Category: fetish phone sex

blowjob

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I was walking through the park when I saw him. He was leaning against a black iron lamp post, looking like he’d been dragged out of a noir film. Trench coat, brooding features, and eyes like shards of obsidian. As I moved past him, he tracked me with his gaze. “You’re going to get soaked,” he said. “I like the rain,” I replied, slowing my pace.

“So do I,” he said with a smirk. The first drop hit, then a dozen more, followed by a sudden, heavy downpour. We both retreated into an empty alcove just as the downpour turned torrential. He gave me a cheeky grin, but wasted no time. When he kissed me, it wasn’t gentle. It was more like a collision of teeth and heat that tasted like impending ruin. His hands found my waist, pulling me so hard against him that I felt the solid line of his cock hardening through his pants.

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

The moment he stepped across the threshold of my apartment, his gaze fixed firmly on the floorboards as if they held the secrets to his inevitable surrender. I sat reclined in my leather chair, watching him with a calculated stillness that seemed to draw the breath right out of his lungs. It’s always fun, being hired to ruin a powerful man. I knew full well that he craved the structure I provided more than he craved his own autonomy.

His movements were awkward and hesitant, like a silent plea for acknowledgement written across his flushed features. I tapped my fingers against the arm of my chair and demanded he look me in the eye. As his chin slowly tilted upward, I saw the raw, exposed vulnerability that flickered behind his tired eyes. He was mine in every sense of the word. A polished instrument of devotion that required my constant, firm guidance to function at peace.

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lover

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Mistress Anna was seeing a business man. At first, he spoiled her rotten with gifts, and flowers and attention like no one had ever before. He was a filthy degenerate of a fetishist, and she fulfilled his every single need.

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probably a CEO

Posted 5 days ago by Stella

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I don’t even look up from my laptop as I hear the hesitation in his footsteps. I know exactly the type of man who is standing on the other side of my mahogany door. It’s a man of stature, probably a CEO or a surgeon. Someone who spends his days forcing the world to bend to his will. Here; however, he is anything but.

“Come in,” I say, calmly. His posture is already collapsing into the familiar slouch of a man desperate to be relieved of his own authority. He is shaking, just slightly. I love that tremor. It’s the sound of a man discovering that the weight of the world is too heavy and he’s finally found someone who can crush him under it. And, boy, do I love crushing a man.

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Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449 

 

Do you have a go-to snack in the kitchen? Something a little sweet, that can be grabbed out of a jar, and eaten quickly as you do other things. Mine is marshmallows or chocolate chips. Both are easy to eat on the go, and satisfy, albeit temporarily, a sweet tooth. Imagine my surprise when a friend came over who had never indulged in a sweet snack from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” My friend asked as I popped a handful of marshmallows in my mouth.

“Having a snack?” I responded, glancing over at my friend across the island countertop. “Would you like some?” I stretched my hand out, offering a handful of nearly gooey marshmallows to him.

“I’ve never had these. What are they?” He gingerly picks one up and gives it an experimental squeeze.

“You’ve never had marshmallows before?” I was dumbfounded.

“No. Growing up we ate mostly rice and vegetables. Occasionally we’d get to have meat. What is a marshmallow?” He responded, continuing to squish the malleable treat in his fingers.

“It’s kind of sweet? Sort of chewy and gooey. It’s very sticky when it melts.” I tried to describe it. I had no clue what…

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On Top Of The Mesa

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

The truck rumbled to a stop at the top of the Mesa, and he reached over to touch my cheek. I was looking out the windshield, in awe of the landscape under the setting sun. “It’ll be cold once the sun goes down.” His fingers trailed down my throat and tugged the collar of the jacket I wore. “Zip this up.” I nodded, and my fingers deftly tugged the zipper from my hips to my throat without ever looking away from the view before me.

I heard him chuckle and finally pulled my gaze away from the burning sky to focus on his face. “Ready, baby girl?” He slipped out of the truck when I nodded, but left the driver’s side door wide open. I watched him move around to the passenger side, then he pulled my door open. I turned my body to melt into his chest and slink down his front until my feet hit the dust-covered rock surface of the Mesa. His long fingers curled around my wrist and pulled my fingers to his mouth. “Be careful of the edge.” The look in his eyes was serious before he released me to explore.

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Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

“Amber,” Kevin had whispered. His hands trembled as he knelt on my bistro rug. “I’ll do anything you want. I’ll quit my job, I’ll learn to braid your hair, I’ll even stop complaining about the thermostat.” I simply stared at him, with a deep, existential exhaustion. Kevin was a lovely guy. He was a “picker-upper” of dropped grocery bags and a “text-you-back-in-thirty-seconds” kind of soul. But he was also essentially the guy who looked to me for validation every time he successfully navigated a social interaction.

My dating life had become a parade of men who treated me like a fragile porcelain doll placed on a mantle. They were terrified of upsetting me, terrified of taking the lead, and frankly, terrified of the very thing that made a woman’s pulse actually race. Last week, a beta named Marcus had tried to “ask for consent” to hold my hand while we were mid-kiss. My response was to ask if he wanted me to fill out a consent form. He left, feeling insulted. lol

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a ritual

Posted 1 week ago by Stella

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I’d met him in an underground club where the bass rattled your teeth and the air tasted of ozone and cedar. He was a creature of sharp angles, layers of charcoal linen, and eyes that held the flat, impenetrable darkness of an abyss. When he touched me, it felt like an invitation to a ritual I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy.

Tonight, the room was lit only by a cluster of wax candles that wept long, distorted trails of onto the floorboards. I stood in the center of the room, feeling my heart beat frantically drum against my ribs. Silas moved behind me. His hands felt cold against my skin, sending a jolt of ice-cold electricity down my spine.

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Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449  

I promised to help a friend with his studies and agreed to meet him at a nearby cafe. I got out of my car and checked my phone to see if he had already snagged a booth. A message popped up; clicking it open, I read.

‘I’m in a booth straight back, to the right.’ I smiled at his perfect timing and made my way through the parking lot, following his directions to the booth once I was inside. Walking up to the table, my pace slowed. His bag, laptop and several books were spread across the whole table; leaving me nowhere to sit. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting this.” I smiled walking closer, “Where am I supposed to sit?

He looked up and smiled back. “Oh yeah. Sorry. Why don’t you sit here?” He brought his hands out from under the table to gesture to his side of the table. I quirked an eyebrow at him and put my purse on the chair opposite him before turning to sit next to him. I felt one of his hands slide up my skirt and pull my panties to the side, and the other on my hip guiding me to sit in 

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You Say You Need a Woman

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

Here you are again. Wandering into the chatroom with a wallet full of bills just aching for someone to pry them out of your hands. Your cock throbs with loneliness, and when asked how you are, you say, “In need of a woman.” Good thing you know right where to find one.

The sweetness you crave, the loving stroke of feminine fingers, is just a processed payment away. Only, youre a glutton for punishment, and you like to pretend you don’t understand how pay-to-play works. Someone’s been a very bad boy and isn’t going to get what he wants if he doesn’t give up what we need FIRST!

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