Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

Here is the link to Macrame Obsession Part 1 https://phonesexcandy.com/macrame-obsession/#more-113988

The fan hitting my white sweat drenched dress was making my nipples hard. And the way it clung on to every curve of my body made it impossible to hide the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra or panties. To make things worse, I was so aroused by watching the instructor tie the knots, that I wasn’t learning how to do it. And now he was calling us up one at a time to test us on the different knots. I was mortified. My heart was racing. The only thing I could do was hope that I could see enough of the students do them that I learned how before my turn. I was trying so hard to pay attention but their backs were towards us so it was hard to see. And the knots were very confusing to me. I was so screwed. When he called my name, I knew everyone could see right through my dress. But at that point, it was my only hope. I thought maybe if I flirted with him, he would go easy on me. But I was wrong. He was not amused.

Continue reading “Macrame Obsession Part 2”

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

He was between my thighs, exactly where he liked to be, with his face pressed into the fabric of my silk robe. I stared at the ceiling, as my eyes traced the cracks in the plaster. I felt nothing but a cold, clinical detachment. Jakob was a man of specific, diminishing appetites. He adored the feeling of being small, of being conquered, of being treated as nothing more than a footstool. For a while, the novelty had been enough. But novelty is a fleeting currency and…well…I had spent every last cent of it.

“Is that all you’ve got, Jakob?” I asked, not so innocently. He knew he couldn’t provide the raw, overwhelming friction I craved. He was a plaything, not a partner, and I was starving. “I’m going out,” I said, rising from the edge of the bed. Jakob stayed knelt on the floor, with his hands folded neatly in his lap, looking up at me with that signature blend of adoration and anxious eagerness. “Will you be late, Amber?” he asked.

Continue reading “I felt nothing, so I cucked him”

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

If you haven’t guessed by now, I am entirely, unapologetically obsessed with dicks. There is something about a cock in my mouth that feels like a symphony to my senses. I like to take my time selecting the perfect specimen, then warm it up just enough so the precum begins to glisten. The weight of a thick juicy cock in my hand, and the smooth, firm texture in my mouth always promises pure satisfaction for both of us.

I remember the first time I realized how much I truly loved sucking on cocks. It wasn’t just the flavor of the cock itself, but the physicality of sucking one that really sold me on it. I met a guy at a small bistro in NYC and soon found myself slowly and seductively going down on him under the table, letting the taste of his precum linger on my tongue. That man’s thick creamy cum burst forth, coating my tongue with his salty goodness. I wasn’t just tasting it, I was intimately exploring every inch!

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Your Mouth Is a Cunt

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

My finger traces the outline of your lower lip. Drool cascades down your chin as the open-mouth gag keeps your hole stretched wide. There are tears of struggle leaking down your cheeks, and more blink free when I glide two of my fingers along the surface of your tongue and right down your throat. My fingers wiggle in the back of your throat, and I release an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

“You’re still gagging way too easily.” I snatch my fingers free and wipe your spittle on your cheek. Mixing it with your tears. “Fuck his cunt again.” I bark at the throat-training bull standing beside me.

Continue reading “Your Mouth Is a Cunt”

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

He’s trembling on the cold linoleum floor, with his head bowed and rope coiled around his wrists. His eyes keep darting to the edge of the room where a single candle sputters. He was supposed to be silent, yet he laughed. I warned him, earlier. “Speak when I say.” He chose not to listen.

The candlelight dances across his features, painting them in shades of guilt and anticipation. “Come,” I command. He stands, but his gaze does not meet my eyes. I circle him, as the leather strap in my hand swallows the light. “Listen,” I say, as my fingertips brush the strap’s surface. His head snaps up, and his eyes are wide and pleading. I lay the strap across his chest. “Your mistake was not in the sound you made, but in the thought that you could speak without consequence.”

Continue reading ““Speak when I say.””

Handful

TS Alexus 844-332-2639 EXT 349

So you are looking for a girl you can bring home to your Mom? I’m not her, but you are too stupid to realize that until it’s far too late. I’m more than a handful in more ways than one. Starting with the obvious, does your Mom know how much you love TS cock? I’d bet she doesn’t. Should you bring me home to meet her, I can guarantee to fill her in.

Fill her in and fill her up with this big, beautiful shecock. Continue reading “I’m More Than a Handful”

Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449 

The heat of the midsummer street festival was suffocating, a swirling vortex of neon lights, loud music and a thousand moving bodies. I slipped through dense clumps of strangers, my pulse hammering a frantic rhythm in my chest. I had a head start, but not a large one. Somewhere in this suffocating press of people, he was looking for me.

My skin was flushed, slick with a fine sheen of sweat that made the humid air cling to me like a second skin. Every brush of a shoulder, every accidental bump from the crowd sent a jolt of pure adrenaline straight down my spine. It was a dizzying game of hide-and-seek. I darted between a group of laughing tourists and a couple locked in a breathless embrace, using their proximity as a temporary shield.

I stole a glance back over my shoulder. Through a parting in the crowd, our eyes locked. A sharp thrill shot through me. He had spotted me. The predatory smirk on his lips told me everything I needed to know about what would happen if those hands caught me.

Panic and desire flared in equal measure, a heady mix that made my knees weak. I bolted…

Continue reading “Music Festival Hide-n-Seek”

Pamper Fucked

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Mikey struggle with the tabs on his extra thick pamper. “You’re doing it too tight again,” I teased, sliding off the duvet to help him. Mikey looked up, just in time for me to see his cheeks flushing pink. “I just want it to stay put, Amber. We don’t want a repeat of the accident I had at the grocery store last week.”

I reached out, taking the tabs from his clumsy hands. Once his diaper was secured with a satisfying crinkle-snap, I stood back to inspect my handiwork. “Perfect,” I whispered, ruffling his hair.

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I stepped out of the alleyway, with my heels clicking against the concrete. It sounded almost like a siren song for the broken. I wasn’t looking for conversation, I was looking for the magnetic pull of a submissive spirit. You can smell them, really. There’s a specific scent to a man who is tired of his own self-governance. It’s a faint, metallic tang of repressed desperation.

I spotted what appeared to be a perfect specimen near the corner of 4th Street. He standing under the flickering orange glow of a streetlight. Tall, well-dressed in a suit that looked slightly too heavy for his frame, and was clutching a briefcase like a shield. He was trembling, though there was no breeze to speak of. As I approached, I didn’t bother with the softness of a smile. I let my presence be the only thing that mattered.

Continue reading “a siren song for the broken”

Reverse Potty Training

Anna 1-844-332-2639 EXT 203

Mommy Anna had Sissy Baby Tami awake from the nursery. Tami tried to rub her eyes
and asked Mommy what she was doing. Mommy Anna told her that today they would be doing
special reverse Potty Training. “What’s that?” said Tami.

Continue reading “Sissy Baby Tami’s Reverse Potty Training”