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Santa bought me a new Lush, all pink and shiny. He said it was for him; no one else was allowed to control me. I tried to be his good little Ho, but the truth is, even Santa knows I’m a naughty fucking Ho. There on his lap, with the Lush deep inside me, Krampus took over via his cell phone behind me!

The buzz was so soft Santa couldn’t hear, but the stain on my cheeks was sure to alert him. I sat up straight and looked all around. Was Krampus looking to tease or aiming to please?

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You'll Never Compare

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We’re together because you’re financially stable and provide me with a sense of comfort I’ve never known before. But you’ll never compare to my ex. Not physically, not in how he fucked me in the bedroom, and never in how I feel for him.

I’m still very much in love with him, and I miss his cock every day. If he and I cross paths, I will cheat on you, and I won’t feel bad for it. You knew what this was coming into it. I look good on your arm, and you love showing me off like some kind of shiny trophy you won just for participating.

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It’s the time of the year when companies throw holiday parties as if getting plastered and sharing cheap gifts with coworkers is something their employees actually want to do. I know my boyfriend sure doesn’t. He isn’t really a people person, more of a homebody, but he hasn’t worked for the company very long and was expected to show up. His Boss had said it would mean a lot to his team.

When he told me about the party, I was excited! We’re opposites in that way, you know? It’s probably one of the reasons why we work out so well together. I took his credit card and spent the day shopping for a party dress, getting my nails done, and even went for a massage. I took the time to pamper myself. If I was going to have to put up with him whining all night that he didn’t want to be there, I at least wanted to look and feel good doing it.

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Seasonal Depression

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It’s that time of year again. The days are shorter, and it always seems dark and gloomy. The cold isn’t just seeping in; it has taken a bone-chilling grip on us, making seasonal depression show its ugly face. The holidays are coming quickly, but you lack the overall cheer you’re supposed to be feeling.

Instead, you feel cold and lonely. Depressed with no reason in sight. Because of the lack of sunshine, now that it’s forever dark. Don’t worry, though; I have a cure for what ails you.

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The man sitting beside me with my feet in his lap isn’t my boyfriend. He’s a friend of a friend, nothing more than a tool to arouse the man who matters most to me. Every nudge of my toes against his swelling cock brings me one step closer to fulfilling my boyfriend’s fantasy.

I smile when his fingers curl around my delicate ankle and his thumb swipes down my sole. He’s pulling the ball of my foot against the shaft of his cock, and I know he wants more. My fingers swipe along the keyboard of my cell, “Tell me you want me to fuck him.”

Continue reading “Fulfilling My Boyfriends Fantasy”

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The state fair midway was bustling with families and friends. Everyone enjoyed the crisp air, signaling the end of a long summer. The sun was just about down, and music mixed in the air. A different song from every carnival ride competed to be heard As if they were trying to lure in riders with their blinking lights. The fun house stood as a signal for the end of the midway. It was massive and screamed with creepy clown music.

“Let’s go in!” Cassie tugged my elbow towards the long line of people waiting to get in. I shook my head as I looked up at the old-looking wooden planks holding it together.

“No, it’s for kids.” She scoffed and pinched my side, saying I was just too scared I wouldn’t make it all the way through without needing the carny to come to pull me out.

Continue reading “Fun House Victim”

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My high heels swung from my right hand as I padded my bare feet down the hotel hallway. Last night’s dress was a tad bit more rumpled from spending the night on a stranger’s floor, and my hair probably looked how the rest of me felt—wrecked. I smiled at the maid, who was gawking at me as I passed. She’s the one who brings breakfast to my boyfriend and me’s room each morning, so she must know I missed it this morning.

My boyfriend is on a work trip out of town, and I love tagging along. It’s a chance to have a new adventure in a new city. Another opportunity to have a new cock, while he is busy making me money. What’s not to like?

Continue reading “Another Night NOT In His Bed”

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You can’t call me because “she’s” there. It’s an excuse I’m growing tired of. When we’re together, you claim I know you better than her. That I give you the things she’d never even think to give you. You’ve said I take you places she’s too afraid to explore. Wifey-poo is terribly selfish and never thinks of your feelings, and yet…

Yet you refuse to leave her. Who do you stay when it’s clear she’ll never be me? Your lazy, uncouth wife will never come close to making you as happy and satisfied as I do. The choice is yours; after all, I’d never force you into something you didn’t want to do, but the longer you stay in your sad, little comfort zone, the better the chance is of you losing me.

Continue reading “She’ll Never Be Me”

I Love How He Screams

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I told you in a previous blog that I acquired a new pain slut; well, the more we play, the more I find I love how he screams for me. I’ve had many callers claim they love pain play and say they want me to hurt their balls, but they balk when it comes down to the execution. Not this fucking toy. He dives in balls first, wanting to obey my every wish.

The first time we spoke, I told him for our next session, I wanted a bowl of ice water and a tube of toothpaste (Actually, I said Icyhot, but someone was a little bitch about that level of heat, so we kicked it down to a minty fresh pain.) Now, I didn’t expect him to obey as most boys never do, but he pleased me greatly when he called yesterday with ALL of his supplies and a few bonus items.

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Creamy Panties

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Sometimes it feels like my clients are more fucking obsessed with panties than any girl I’ve ever met. They want to sniff them, wear them, hoard them! It’s insane how many times I’ve heard cross-dressing and sissy clients alike lament over purging their pantie stash.

One honey little fucker called me the other day, nearly in tears. “I just want to feel sexy and cum in a pair of panties!” He sniffled as my eyes rolled back into my head.

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