Quinn was a hot mess – and she loved every minute of it. The 18-year-old teenage bimbo had the body of a goddess, with perky tits, a tight snatch, and a bubble butt that could stop traffic. But her airheaded, slutty persona often got her into trouble.
Like the time she got so distracted making a sandwich that she left her vibrator buzzing away in her pussy while she noshed on the couch, not realizing the whole building could hear her juices squelching obscenely. Or when she forgot she wasn’t wearing panties and flashed her bare cunt to the mailman. Oh well, as long as Quinn got her holes filled in the end, she didn’t much care about the details.
Her apartment was a disaster, panties and dirty dildos strewn about, half-drunk bottles of lube everywhere. Poor Quinn was a space cadet, always getting wet and slipping her implants a few inches further into bimbo territory. It made her a bit of a trainwreck, but also a slutty dream – her vacant eyes were always half-lidded, thinking about getting fucked.
She’d pass out anywhere, anytime, as long as a hard cock was nearby. On the subway, in line at the bank, hell, she even dozed off on top of a stud in a public restroom once, smearing her cum on his dick. Quinn just had no filter, no sense of shame. The bimbo slut was always down to fuck.
Quinn lived in a fantasiescape, an anime lover’s dream – cat-ears and maid outfits, always in cosplay. She giggled like a loon and spoke in a baby voice. Her favorite phrase? “Quinn wants it!” When she demanded cock, the world just had to oblige.
But woe to the dude who tried to get dominant with her – the moment things got too intense, this bimbo would go from eager slut to pouty little girl. “Quinn’s head hurts! Quinn needs num-nums!” She’d whine, until the man just had to baby her and give her a lollipop to shut her up. Then she’d wriggle free, laughing. Gotcha!
Her sex drive was unreal. She’d fuck anything that moved. Women, men, trannies, animals (not really, but a bimbo can dream!) – as long as it had a dick, Quinn was on it. She wasn’t fussy. Any crevice would do in a pinch.
In public, in private, Quinn was an insatiable whore, hungry for cock. She’d leave her holes gaping and used, a sloppy mess, and then just forget what happened. Like, what’s this white stuff dripping down my thighs? Hmm.
Quinn’s brain was mush, her cunt was always wet. She couldn’t remember her own name. But she always knew what she wanted – Quinn wanted to be a little cock-drunk cumdump, and she always got it. A true airheaded fucktoy for all the studs.
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