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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blog

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.

Continue reading “Mr. Davenport was different”

Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

I was minding my own business at my new job and guess who came in. My professor and his wife. Long story short, they gave me a big tip to go back to their place when I got off work. With much trepidation, I decided to just do it. I didn’t want them to cause any issues to jeopardize my new job. Plus, I needed the money.

When I arrived, my professor answered the door which was out of the ordinary. Then he sent me back to their room. When I walked in, there she was. She was wearing black leather short shorts, bustier, and thigh high boots. And she of course had her whip. My heart dropped because I didn’t know what was going to happen. They were both acting different than usual. She told me to strip down or she’d rip my clothes off. So I did as I was told. Then she said “Tonight it’s my turn with Little Rachel.” I hadn’t seen that coming. And to be honest, I was scared of what she had in mind. She walked over to the drawer and grabbed some handcuffs and a strap on dildo.

Continue reading “Guess Who Came In… Part 2”

Do I Or Don't I GAME NIGHT With Kayla Cumsalot

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

Ok, ok, OKAY! So you think you know me. After so many years of spilling your fantasy and secrets, you think we’re close. Some of you even believe there is more than just a hot, filthy, naughty call between us now and again, but…have you ever considered I tell you what you wanna hear? That maybe I feed you the version of me that keeps you crawling back to me, instead of what’s REALLY going on in my deviously manipulative brain? Do you actually know me at all? Well, we’re about to find out!

I’ve compiled a list of “Do I or Don’t I’s,” and we’ll see which players know the real Kaykay best! Some are kinky and some are not. Depending on how well you’ve listened to me during our sessions or what you’ve seen on my Twitter, this could be super easy or SUPER hard!

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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!”

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

Lick those lips and prep those fingers, my little pervert piggy. Your pathetically throbbing erection is quivering in your hand, waiting for my divine command. Well, you got it. I allow you to continue your degrading self-pleasure.

Now, stroke that pinky prick with force, faster, faster you filthy worm! You know you’re nothing more than a set of balls and a dick for me to drain. Your only purpose in my presence is to make me money. You’re one of my top clients after all. I should be flattered, shouldn’t I?

Continue reading “Keep Stroking Gooner”