Hot Holiday Weekend

Avery 1-844-332-2639 ext. 228

I know this weekend is a long one for Americans, but I had a hot holiday weekend of my own recently. Canadians celebrate some holidays that Americans don’t have. For example, last weekend was the Victoria Day weekend for us. Or what most of us call the May 2-4 weekend. We celebrate by going to the cottage and letting loose. I usually spend it naked, but I can’t speak for every Canadian haha. It’s our unofficial start of the summer and last weekend was a HOT one for me!
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Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403

I don’t know if it’s so chilly where you are this weekend.  But it’s a very chilly and cold Memorial Day Weekend here.  It’s supposed to be the weekend where everyone opens up their pools for summer.  But there isn’t going to be any swimming at the pool this weekend.  Good thing I have lots of great pool memories about previous adventures at the pool.  Like last year I decided to spend some time at the community pool.  I fell asleep soaking up the sun and missed the call that the pool was closing.  The head lifeguard had been checking me out all summer and told the other lifeguards to let me sleep while they cleared everyone else out.

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xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

Liam isn’t my husband, but he’s someone’s husband. That should make him off-limits. The band around his ring finger is supposed to be a warning sign for girls like me. It should yell, “This one is claimed. Back off!” But it screams just the opposite. That ring actually tells me that a man is a provider. A thoughtful, mostly committed man who was tolerated enough to go through with the wedding.

I can see why she said yes. He’s charming and handsome in the most annoying way. Sure, his cock is my favorite part, but we don’t have to tell her that. Not yet. I’m supposed to stay away from his house, but the temptation is too much. I’ve bought a pair of cherry edible panties, and there’s only one husband I want to lick them off me.

Continue reading “Liam and The Edible Panties”

Aynsley 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 459

Aynsley was just a cute college girl, but she had a dirty little secret – she was absolutely addicted to anal sex. At only 20 years old, her tight little pink asshole had already seen more cock than most women experience in a lifetime.

It all started freshman year. Aynsley had been partying, giggling and gossiping until the room started to spin.

“Looks like somebody hit it too hard, huh?” drawled a familiar voice. It was Tyler, the star quarterback and notorious manwhore. He’d been eyeing Aynsley all week.

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Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

This particular night was the roleplay that broke him. He came in cocky. Hands in his pockets, pretending he was in control. I told him to sit. He hesitated. Wrong move. “I said sit!!” My voice sliced through the room like silk over steel. He obeyed. Slowly. I smiled. Good boy.

He wanted to “try something different,” something taboo. I told him I had a fantasy—and tonight, he’d play the part. He didn’t ask questions. That was mistake number two.

I walked around him in stilettos, slow and deliberate, dragging my fingernails across the back of his neck. “Tonight, I’m not your girl. I’m your instructor. And you’re going to learn how to please me properly. You’ve been slacking in your performance… and now, you’re staying after hours.” His breath hitched. His pants tightened. I grabbed his chin and made him look at me.
“I grade on obedience. And right now, you’re failing.” I tied his wrists behind the chair with my silk scarf, slid my thigh over his lap, and whispered all the filthy things he’d have to do to earn extra credit. I traced my tongue along his ear, then slapped his cheek. Gently. Enough to make his Continue reading “The Roleplay That Broke Him”

roommate

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Miss Anna took on a new roommate. He was very shy and quiet, but she always secretly had the hots for him. When night fell, she could swear she heard him stroking away in his room. She was so tempted to knock on the door and ask if she could lend a hand.

There was of course, one thing that really bothered her about him: Every time she went out and came home, she noticed that things from her room would be misplaced. Her shoes, her clothes. She confronted the roommate, asking him if he had guests over. He claimed that his girlfriend had been by and was fixated by her closet, to which Miss Anna stated she didn’t mind, so long as his girlfriend put everything back where she found it.

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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.”

Continue reading “I’ve seen a lot in this line of work”

Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403

Let me tell you about the time I had to save Amber (unknowingly) from a Manticore.

Amber called me and asked me if I could come over to her house to help her with an emergency situation.  Of course, being a good friend and all, I immediately headed over there.  She met me at the door and grabbed my arm yanking me into her house and slamming the door.  “Hurry, follow me to the basement.” Amber said frantically.  I followed her down the stairs and looked around.  I didn’t see anything serious immediately.  But I knew she wouldn’t call for nothing.  Amber led me over to one of the walls which strangly had manacles dangling from the wall.

Continue reading “Zoey Saves Amber from the Manticore Phone Sex”

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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Aynsley 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 459

The moment I walked out of my last final exam, I knew – it was time to party! No more studying, no more stress, no more responsibility. Just a wild summer of non-stop debauchery. And like any self-respecting co-ed slut, I planned to start by getting absolutely fucked silly by the hottest college hunks on campus.

I sauntered into the biggest party of the year, my tight little minidress leaving nothing to the imagination. Every pair of eyes turned my way as I made my entrance. The bass pulsed through my core, making my swollen pussy lips quiver with anticipation.

Continue reading “School’s Out!”