Timmy and Tommy's Race To Cummies

Valerie 1844-332-2639 Ext 243

Timmy and Tommy kneeled naked before my group of girlfriends. The twins have always been so competitive, but the pressure was on. Poor Timmy gets so nervous when girls are watching him tug his penis, probably because it’s a little smaller than his brother’s, with a curve in it.

“I actually prefer a little bend.” Shannon giggles and leans her elbows on her knees to watch the two closer, but her gaze is more focused on Timmy’s cock. The attention makes his chest rise and fall, and I notice his erection falter. He’s so shy. From behind him, I run my hand through his hair and tilt his head back to look up at me.

“Don’t forget, boys, whoever makes cummies last has to lick up all of the mess.”

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Jessy 1844-33-CANDY ext 305

I heard Harold’s key in the door, but I didn’t move. I was too involved with my legs spread getting the best pussy eating of the week, which was usually his job as my obedient cuckold. He must have heard me moaning downstairs because after he closed the refrigerator, he made his way upstairs. I wasn’t about to move and it didn’t even matter that I left the door open. As soon as Harold came in , I told him to take off his fucking clothes and to kneel beside the bed. As soon as he dropped his pants, I could see his hard, shrimp dick sticking up like a door knob. Gary, kissed my ass cheeks, as I turned over and reached into the nightstand for Harold’s pink cock cage. I slipped it onto his baby carrot cock, turned the lock and settled back onto the pillow.
Gary laughed and made a comment about how small Harold was in comparison to him. I had to giggle at his clit stick too. It got me more excited to know that he was going to see Gary pound my pussy into oblivion. He rammed his cock into my snatch from behind hard,

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The Milking Stable

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

Grunts, groans, and mumbles for mercy echoed off the clinical walls of my milking Stable. My high heels strike the tile as I wander the rows confidently, checking that all the machines are working properly. Six rows of six cumcows are lined up under the bright lights. A wall of screens constantly streams a variety of porn, not that it matters. The vacuum pump of the teat covers clamped around their cocks would coax their cum out, whether their meat was stiff or not.

Which seems to be the problem with cumcow number 4C. His vacuum pump is working away, but has slipped off his limp penis. The whirring and slurping of the empty teat cover as I hurried over to him. “What have we here?” I ask, even though the gag in his mouth prevents him from answering me. “Did we milk you dry?”

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Fairy

TS Alexus 844-332-2639 EXT 349

Frotting with a fairy. (Sigh) I bet when you first looked at me, the last thing you thought you would hear yourself say to me is, “Your cock is so much bigger than mine!” But here we are. Your smaller cock in my hand mashed up against the throbbing thick meat of my shecock. I’m stroking us together while verbally abusing you, and you are struggling not to cum all over the velvety smooth head of my cock.

Using both of my hands, I lock our cocks together. My slender, feminine hips humping my hard cock up and down between my fingers and your smaller dick. It feels good. You had no idea you were a fairy bitch until I put you in your place.

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gooner

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was on the laptop in lingerie, as usual. Today’s appointment had just logged on. He wasn’t anything special, not like some of the others who tried to project an air of mystery or charm. This one was just average. Beige. The kind of man you’d pass on the street and forget instantly. He called himself “Braveheart’ in the chat, which felt ironic given how timid his actual keystrokes felt. He wasn’t a high roller, but consistent. Enough to make the time worthwhile. He didn’t want much in terms of conversation, and the pictures he requested were merely a precursor, an hors d’oeuvre to the real meal.

What he truly craved, what he paid for, were the words. Not just any words, but those specific phrases, strung together just so, meticulously crafted and delivered with a precise cadence. The ones that unlocked something in him, a sort of mental key turning in a lock. “Get worse, loser.” I’d type them out because I didn’t need to see his face to know what was happening on his end. The slight delays in his replies,

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findom

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I reclined on my velvet chaise lounge, my ruby-red dress hugging my curves just right. My lips, painted the same shade of red as my dress, curled into a wicked grin as I watched Tobias. He stood before me, his eyes filled with desire and longing, his chiseled body tensed with anticipation. He thought I liked him, but oh, how wrong he was. I liked that he paid me. Tobias was a man of wealth, and I was a woman of power. He was my plaything, my puppet, my pet. Our one rule was that he could pump, he could stroke, but never ever would he be allowed to cum. He couldn’t touch me, but I could touch him. I was his goddess, his queen, his mistress. He was my submissive, my slave, my whore.

“Take off your clothes, Tobias,” I commanded, my voice as smooth as silk. He obeyed without question, shedding his designer suit piece by piece until he stood before me in all his naked glory. His cock was already hard, twitching with need. I

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Sweet Tooth

ruined orgasm

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I’ve had my fair share of unusual requests, but none quite like Axel’s. He had a sweet tooth, a vivid imagination, and a love of ruin. Our conversations were never dull, but this one took an interesting turn. “Amber…Let’s put honey in the back of your pants and lay down,” he said, his voice low and sultry. I raised my eyebrows, surprised by his request. “And then what?” I asked, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice.

“Then, I want you to grab some caramel sauce and drizzle it down the front of your pants,” he replied. I bit my lip, considering his words. I followed his instructions, giggling the entire time. The honey was sticky and sweet against my skin, and the caramel sauce was warm and inviting. I could feel my heart racing as I laid down on my bed, waiting for Axel’s next command. “Now, Amber, I want you to rub your clit for me,” he said, his voice husky. I did as he asked, letting out a moan that I hoped would satisfy him. I could hear the pleasure in his voice as he told me not to cum…Not yet, anyway.

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asmr

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

“Okay, Zoey, are you sure about this?” I asked, fiddling with my headset. Zoey, perched on the edge of my desk amidst a chaotic pile of chips bags and candy wrappers, grinned. “Absolutely, Amber,” she winked. You see, we’d recently stumbled upon the ASMR fetish community somewhat accidentally, after both of our TikTok FYP’s were filled with videos of whispering voices and the strangely compelling sounds of people eating. Zoey, ever the entrepreneur, had the brilliant idea that we should use this to our advantage – you know, being PSO’s and all. “Food-focused ASMR calls,” she’d declared, eyes gleaming. “We’ll be the queens of the crunch!”

And so, here we were. The first video call came through Teams, after a quick DM with “CrunchKing69.” “Hello?” I said, my voice a little too excited. Zoey was already unwrapping a bag of spicy ramen noodles. “H-hello,” a nervous voice replied. “Is…is this the, uh, ASMR call?” “Youuuuu betcha,” Zoey purred, before chomping hard on the crunchy noods. The sound filled the room, and we could see CrunchKing69 drooling on the other end while stroking his dick. Next, it was my turn. I grabbed a

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Drop for Me

Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

“Drop for me, now look at me.” That’s all I said. And he did—immediately. Eyes wide, curious, a little unsure. He didn’t know what he was getting into. Not really. But I could already see it in his face… the want. The need to surrender. “Breathe in,” I whispered, stepping closer. “Nice and deep. Now out.”

I kept my voice slow, soft, steady. Each word like honey, dripping into his mind. His shoulders relaxed. His chest rose and fell like waves. Perfect. “That’s it,” I cooed, brushing my fingertips lightly across his cheek. “With every breath, you sink a little deeper. Your thoughts are getting quieter. The only thing you hear is my voice.”

He nodded, blinking slow. He didn’t even realize how gone he already was. “Good boy!” That phrase always does something to them. And him? He shuddered—just from that. His cock twitched, already hard, aching, begging. I didn’t touch him. I didn’t need to.

“Every time I say the word drop, you’ll fall a little further. Letting go of everything but me. Every time I say it, you’ll crave my control more. My voice is your command, your permission to let go.” He swallowed. His lips parted. Continue reading “Drop for Me”

pinged

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The notification pinged, a shrill, digital cry slicing through the quiet hum of Mark’s cheap laptop. He knew what it was before he even glanced at the screen. A DM from me. Or, more accurately, the DM. He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the trackpad. It was Tuesday. Rinse day. The day his meager freelance earnings evaporated, funneled willingly into the digital abyss of my demands. He’d managed to tuck away a tiny bit extra this week, clinging to the hope of finally replacing his cracked phone screen. Now, that same phone mocked him from the corner of his desk, a constant reminder of his weakness.

Mark sighed, a sound like air leaking from a punctured tire. He knew the rules. He lived by them. Or, rather, he lived for them. The thrill of the chase, the delicious self-loathing as he emptied his digital wallet, the fleeting sense of purpose it gave him. It was pathetic, he knew. Utterly and completely pathetic. He clicked the DM.

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