Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413
I bet you’ve wondered a time or two why boys even have boobs. They serve no functional purpose. Not like female breasts, which nourish babies and make boys stupid when they see them. So, what other reason could men possibly have tits for if they aren’t meant for me to abuse them?
To pinch, pluck, or clamp the tender little peaks until they feel overwhelmed with pain and pleasure.
Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403
“Mommy Anna! Mommy Anna!” I cried running into her bedroom. “Big brother took my birthday money and he won’t give it back!” I sobbed frantically. Mommy picked me up and put me on her knee hugging me and patting my back soothingly. When I calmed down, she told me to tell her exactly what happened. I told her that I’d been counting my birthday money when my big brother came into my room. He took my money right from my hand and told me he was claiming his big brother tax. I told him there was no such thing. But he told me to shut up and he deserved my money for having to put up with such a bratty little sister.
Aynsley 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 459
Holy fuck I missed this job. Being a phone sex operator is no joke, and it takes skill, seduction, and a whole lot of dirty talk. But hey, that’s exactly why I’m here, isn’t it? Aren’t you glad I’m back?
After a couple of months abroad, I’m back and raring to go, ready to unleash my inner seductress once more. As I slip into my comfiest, most provocative loungewear, I can already feel the familiar heat of anticipation building within me. It’s like my body is saying, “Alright, Aynsley, let’s get this sexy party started!”
I settle into my cozy little lair, the one adorned with plush throw pillows, soft candlelight, and the faint scent of lavender, all designed to set the mood for the torrid tales I’m about to weave. I fire up the old reliable headset and let my fingers dance across the keyboard, typing out greetings and teasing opening lines for the eager clients who’ll soon be on the other end.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. Puppet, a man I barely knew, was insisting I watch him as he pleasured himself. The audacity! I had only met him a few days prior at a mutual friend’s dinner party. But there he was, undressing in front of me, his lustful eyes pleading for me to stay.
“What’s gotten into you, Puppet?” I asked, trying to sound firm despite the nervous flutter in my chest. “We just met. This isn’t appropriate.” But he was relentless. “Just this once, Stella. I promise I won’t ask again,” he whispered, his hands already working to free his erection. “Please, I need to cum. My wife will be home any minute and…and I can’t help myself.”
Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248
I squirmed beneath Mitchell’s looming figure, the absurdity of the situation only heightening the searing heat pooling between my thighs. My rent was overdue, and now he stood over me, his rugged features twisted into a snarl of displeasure. A spark of apprehension and raw, primal excitement raced through me as I realized he intended to collect the debt in the most carnal of ways.
“Get on your knees,” Mitchell growled, his roughened tone sending shivers down my spine.
As I complied, his calloused hand grasped the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. The thick bulge of his arousal pressed insistently against my cheek, an unspoken demand. I parted my lips, and he ruthlessly shoved himself past them, the head of his cock nudging the back of my throat.
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
Jorge was an older gentleman, well into his twilight years, with a certain gravelly charm that always preceded the unexpected. Our conversations, though infrequent, consistently veered into territory most people would never even acknowledge, let alone openly discuss. When he stated that he has a “relationship” with his mother, it wasn’t simply a matter of familial affection or even the typical complexities that often tie adults to their aging parents.
No, the truth, as Jorge once laid out in a matter-of-fact tone, was that their bond had long transcended conventional boundaries. Jorge, as it turns out, liked to fuck his mother. It was a consensual arrangement, he emphasized, a shared intimacy that, while undeniably taboo for all the obvious societal and biological reasons, formed an undeniable, secret world known only to a precious few, myself included.
Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203
Mommy Anna was so impressed with how well-behaved Victoria Kate had been the past couple months. She still had Victoria Kate’s phone in her possession, confiscated from her, and Mommy saw that Victoria Kate’s exes kept sending her dick pics. Mommy Anna simply tossed the phone and told herself: ‘’oh no my Victoria Kate will never see you or your pathetic cocks’’.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
I have a type. Specifically, I have two types. There’s Type A: The distinguished gentleman, preferably with a full head of silver hair, a penchant for single malt scotch, and a portfolio that could rival a small nation’s GDP. These men are wonderful conversationalists, masters of the five-star reservation, and possess a certain gravitas that only comes with decades of accrued wisdom (and even more accrued wealth). They also, almost without exception, have the libido of a particularly sluggish snail.
Then there’s Type B: The strapping twenty-something, all rippling abs, boundless energy, and an unshakeable belief that life is one long montage from a sports drink commercial. These men are less interested in discussing the nuances of global economics and more interested in, well, nuances. And by nuances, I mean anything that involves their cock.
Sissy Mistress Janine 1-844-332-2639 ext 462
I identified him for what he truly was the moment I laid eyes upon him. It existed in the sway of his hips, the delicate manner in which he held his hand out, and the soft, effeminate tone of his voice. First, I let him know that I knew his secret even if he wasn’t aware of it himself. Then I tucked his hand into the crook of my arm, patting it reassuringly. I told him to put himself in my very capable hands. His sissy training started right then and there. When he didn’t put up even a little bit of resistance, I knew he was truly ready.
Jamie 1-844-332-2639 ext 461
“You won’t believe the night I had, Jamie,” Randy’s voice crackled, already a little hoarse, buzzing with the afterglow of his nocturnal adventures. He was a creature of the shadows, and his stories were stained with the same grime. I sat at my kitchen table, the half-eaten remains of a microwave meal cooling in front of me. Randy, on the other hand, was sitting in his car, still slick with the memory of anonymous mouths and urgent hands.
“Got a new spot,” he continued, excitedly. “Back of the old cinema, you know the one? Dark. Perfect. There was this big guy, hairy hands. Didn’t even say a word, just went for it.” He launched into the details, the hot breath, the rough stubble, the frantic rhythm against the plywood partition. He painted the scene with such visceral honesty, I could almost smell the stale sex and the cheap cleaner.
Continue reading ““You won’t believe the night I had, Jamie””