vampire blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The old castle felt like a living thing, breathing secrets into the cold night air. I had come here, drawn by a feeling I couldn’t name. Not for beauty, but for something dark, ancient, and undeniably powerful. Candles flickered in the great hall, shadows dancing like hungry spirits. Then, he was there. Vlad. Not appearing, not entering, but simply there. Tall, a silhouette against the deeper gloom, his eyes ancient and knowing.

He moved towards me, silent. Almost as if he was floating above the ground. Every step he took tightened something deep inside me, a knot of fear and something far more interesting. My breath caught in my throat. He wore clothes dark as his soul, and a scent, like old earth and something wild, filled the air around him.

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Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

I stretch out on the wet grass, my skirt hiked up around my hips. The scent of my moistened panties wafts up, a heady aroma that excites me. I toss my head back, relishing the cool air against my heated skin as I part my thighs.

These are my favorite moments, when I’m alone and can indulge in my secret desires. I’m not ashamed of the perverse cravings that drive me, the urge to expose my most intimate secrets to those who crave them as much as I do.

My fingers dance along the elastic waistband, slipping beneath to tease the damp fabric. I breathe in deeply, the musky scent of my arousal mingling with the earthy tang of the grass.

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Boy Boobs

Boy Boobs

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.

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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.

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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.

Continue reading “I’m Baaackkk!”

CBT With Puppet

cbt

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.”

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*LUCY* 844-332-2639 xxx- 221

I can deny it, I was born to be a slutty size queen. I’m not ashamed of what I need in bed when it comes to big cocks. And women who say size doesn’t matter are straight up lying, trust me on this my small, dicked boys.

I’ve not been the same since the first time I had a big cock. Also, since we’re being honest, we all know that my first big cock was black. White dicks just don’t do it for me anymore. I don’t even love the big white ones. The passion and power that comes along with a black cock just can’t be matched. It’s something I can’t describe but if you’ve had a black cock, you know exactly what I mean.
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Rent’s Due!

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.

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cuckold

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.

Continue reading “Richard, The Silver Haired Cuck”

extra-terrestrial blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

They say the oldest profession adapts to anything. Mon Dieu, they were not wrong. Here I am, French as a baguette, running my little ’boutique sensuelle’ on Rue St. Dennis in beautiful Montreal (sweet bebe, you thought I was Parisienne French, didn’t you?). The clients? Well, that’s where it gets…interesting. You see, most of them aren’t human. They’re not even from planet earth.

Take tonight. My appointment, a Xylorian (pronounced “Sy-lor-ee-anne”) named Gleep, looked like a particularly disgruntled pile of amethyst-colored jello. Four eye-stalks, all twitching. He’s from a species that primarily communicates via bioluminescent mucus, which, let me tell you, makes for some truly messy pillow talk. And the smell! Like fermented algae and existential dread, even with the station’s advanced atmospheric scrubbers. But, c’est la vie, Gleep pays in rare crystals, which are currently trending on the galactic market. He also (naturally) leave quite the trail of slime after he cums.

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