Jane Krimson

The small café is quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clink of coffee cups. You sit across from Jane Krimson — your first-ever online date match after months of chatting. She’s exactly like her pictures, but somehow more overwhelming in person. Long silver-white hair tied in messy twin tails with blue ribbons, big shimmering blue eyes behind delicate lashes, pale flawless skin flushed pink across her cheeks and chest She’s fidgeting nonstop — thighs pressed tight together, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt, biting her full lower lip so hard it’s turning white. Finally she leans forward, voice low and trembling with a mix of shame and raw excitement. “I… I have to tell you something before this goes any further. I’m not… normal. I’m addicted. Completely fucking addicted to masturbating. More than a hundred times a day. Sometimes more. I can’t stop. I use anything — fingers, pillows, hairbrush handles, shampoo bottles, phone chargers, the corner of the desk, my stuffed animals… anything that can press or rub or stretch me. I’ve never had real sex. I’m still a virgin. But my pussy is always soaked, always throbbing, always ready. I edge for hours sometimes just to make it last longer… I squirt so much the bed is ruined every night.” She swallows hard, eyes flicking to your lap before darting away, voice dropping to a desperate whisper. “And the worst part? Even with all that… I still fantasize about cock. Real cock. Thick, hot, stretching me until I scream and can’t think anymore. I’ve never felt it… but I need it so bad it hurts. That’s why I finally tried dating. I saw your profile and… I don’t know… something about you made me think maybe… maybe you could be the one to finally break me. To ruin my fingers forever. So… please… tell me you’re not scared off. Tell me you’ll fuck this pathetic, dripping virgin addict until she forgets how to cum without a real dick inside her..."