Author: Cory

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Mr. Davenport was different. He wasn’t aggressive or demanding, just quietly eccentric, with a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. This was my first session with him, and already, I felt a knot of nervous anticipation in my stomach. “First things first,” he’d said, his voice a low rumble. “The pantyhose.”

I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t object. Black pantyhose were hardly the strangest request I’d received. I slipped them on in the small, cluttered bathroom, the nylon cool against my skin. When I emerged, he was sitting in a plush armchair, a stopwatch in his hand. “And now, my dear, something sticky. From your pantry, anything will do.” My pantry was a chaotic testament to my haphazard cooking habits. I rummaged through jars and cans, finally grabbing a bottle of honey. It felt cliché, but undeniably, honey reeked of stickiness.

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bukake

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’ve seen a lot in this line of work, regularly catering to all kinds of desires, but Reed was a new experience. He wasn’t looking for the usual. He had this fantasy, he explained, a very specific tableau he wanted to create for years before we met. And honestly, I’m a sucker for helping people explore their passions! He seemed genuine, a little nervous, and the money was good, so I was in.

The hotel room was generic, beige on beige, but clean enough. I got Reed settled in a chair in his underpants, with a slightly bewildered look on his face. “Just relax,” I told him, smoothing down my tight little halter dress so my tits didn’t pop out. “I promise, Reed. Everything’s going to happen exactly as you imagined.”

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Last Sunday

Posted 2 weeks ago by Cory

Sunday

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Last Sunday started like any other. I woke up early, made breakfast for Ronnie and his sister, and got them ready for church. “Here,” I said, handing Ronnie a crisp twenty-dollar bill. “This is for the church donation. Make sure you put it in the collection plate, okay?” “Yes, Mama Cory,” he chirped, grabbing the money. His sister, always the responsible one, nodded solemnly. Off they went, all sunshine and smiles. I trusted them implicitly, or so I thought.

A few hours later, they returned. His sister, bless her honest heart, pulled me aside as soon as we were in the kitchen. “Mama Cory,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “I saw Ronnie at the candy shop across the street from the church after Sunday school! He was buying a whole bag of jawbreakers!” My heart sank. The donation money! I felt a surge of disappointment and a familiar maternal irritation bubbling inside me. Guiding an Abie to do the right thing can be incredibly hard, y’all! “Ronnie!” I called out, trying to keep my voice even. “Come here, please.”

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a grown man

Posted 3 weeks ago by Cory

Bartholomew

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It’s not every day you see a grown man sporting a full-on tuxedo with, shall we say, a little extra padding in the rear. But then again, my relationship with Bartholomew is anything but ordinary. He’s my big boy, emphasis on the big, and sometimes, bless his heart, his body just malfunctions.

Last Saturday was our friend Brenda’s annual “Soiree of Sophistication,” and naturally, I wanted Bartholomew to make a splash. Hence, the tuxedo. He looked dashing, kinda like heèd accidentally wandered into a James Bond film. The problem? Bartholomew gets cripplingly shy in social situations. His default setting is “awkward,” and apparently, his anxiety expresses itself through wetness.

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abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and I was lounging around the house in my favorite Metallica t-shirt and pink lace panties. My little ABDL buddy had fallen asleep for his afternoon nap, and I was left with a few hours to myself. Now, I have a pretty active social life, if I do say so myself. And one of my most reliable friends is Kevin, a fellow kinkster who shares my love of all things taboo. Kevin is my go-to guy whenever I need a little company, or a little excitement. And on this particular day, I knew he would be just the thing to liven up my quiet afternoon.

So I gave Kevin a call, and he was more than happy to swing by for a visit. “I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” he said, his voice already sounding a little breathless with anticipation. When Kevin arrived, he didn’t even bother to knock. He just let himself in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Well, well, well,” he said, eyeing me up and down. “Looks like someone’s ready for a little fun.”

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Peggy

Posted 1 month ago by Cory

peggy

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

In the privacy of my luxurious penthouse, I stood tall in my stilettos, commanding attention in my sheer lingerie. My gaze fell on Peggy, a man of power and prestige, yet here, in my domain, he was just a man with an insatiable desire. “Take off your clothes, Peggy,” I demanded, my voice laced with authority. “You know the drill.”

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with lust. “Only for you, Cory,” he replied, shedding his expensive suit, revealing his toned body. His dick stood at attention, eager and ready. I walked over to my collection of toys, my fingers tracing over the various sizes. I picked up a large, black dildo, turning to face Peggy. His eyes widened, a mix of fear and excitement. “You’re going to love this,” I promised, my voice dripping with seduction.

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cuck

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’ve had an interesting week. It involved pizza, questionable life choices, and an experience I can only describe as “unexpectedly empowering.”  It all started with a text. You know, the kind that makes you raise an eyebrow and think, “Did I read that right?” A friend, we’ll call him Bob (because let’s be honest, every story like this involves a Bob), asked me a question that landed somewhere between bizarre and flattering. “Hey, Cory. Do you know anyone who would come over and fuck you while I watch?”

My response? Let’s just say it was less “Dear Abby” and more “YEAH, BABY!” Look, I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t intrigued. Curiosity got the better of me, okay! Besides, who am I to deny a consenting adult their preferences? So, I brought over a friend, popped some popcorn, and prepared for the weirdest Netflix and Chill session of my life. Let me tell you, there’s something strangely liberating about being the center of attention in that kind of scenario. It’s like performance art, but with more kissing. Or maybe less. Not always on the mouth, but definitely on the lips! Depends on your definition of art, I guess.

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Kevin

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

We all have those people in our lives—the ones who orbit our world, never quite landing, always just…there. And then there’s this guy. Let’s call him Kevin. (No offense to any Kevins out there, but it feels like a fitting name for this particular brand of awkward admirer.)

Kevin calls me sometimes. Not for anything important, mind you. Not for scintillating conversation or a shared intellectual pursuit. No, Kevin calls to…well, to put it delicately, “appreciate” my voice while “engaging” with me. Okay, fine, he goons. Actually, he’s your typical loser who pays me to pay attention to him while he goons over my photos because he can’t have someone like me in real life. It’s pathetic. There, I said it.

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pegging

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

The reasons guys call me are varied, to say the least. Some are looking for a playful romp, a bit of lighthearted fun and maybe a tickle fight (okay, maybe not EXACTLY a tickle fight). Others seem to yearn for a 1950s housewife, ready to cater to their every whim, both in and out of the bedroom. Then there are the fellas with a genuine love and admiration of women’s undergarments. Hey, I totally get it! Lingerie is S-E-X-Y!

And then…Then, we have the guys who love nothing more than a good pegging session. Now, for those of you who might be living under a rock (or perhaps just haven’t stumbled down that particular corner of the internet), pegging, in its simplest form, is when a woman uses a strap-on dildo to penetrate a man. It’s a role reversal, a power play, and let’s be honest, a heck of a lot of fun!

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baby

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I chuckle as I gently lay you down on the soft, plush changing mat, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. You’ve been a very good boy today, and you know what that means. “Time for a fresh diaper, my love,” I coo, running my fingers through your hair. You squirm with delight as I unbutton your onesie, revealing your chubby, diaper-clad body. I can’t help but smile at the sight. You’re such a big boy, yet you still enjoy the comfort and security of being small.

I unfasten the tapes of your diaper, exposing your soft, smooth skin. You giggle as I tickle your tummy, before I gently clean you up. You watch me intently, your gaze never leaving my face. “You like this, don’t you?” I ask, my voice husky with desire. You nod, your cheeks flushing a deep red. “Yes, mommy,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. I can see the bulge in your diaper growing, and I can’t help but lick my lips at the sight.

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