Category: phone sex blog

Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

From the very first day of kindergarten, I knew that the institutional setting of the public school system was not for me. I continued to get in trouble because I just wanted to get expelled. My parents thought the answer was an exclusive college prep school. But the only thing I liked about it was the cute little schoolgirl uniforms. Well, let’s put it this way, I made it cute by tying the top under my boobs to expose my midriff. And rolling the waist of the skirt up to hike it up as short as possible. And I got some really cute little patent leather mary jane shoes. Of course they enforce a very strict dress code. Even the classic cable knit knee socks have to be pulled taut, straight, and perfectly cuffed.

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Melanie 1-844-33-CANDY ext 463

Gary woke up on a table tied down by his wrists and ankles. He had no clue where he was, but he had a gag in his mouth so he couldn’t ask me. He tried to lift up his head to look around the room, but that was no help either. He was a friend that had come to me previously, begging me for some anal training. I was happy to oblige.

Gary was able to look down at his own body and saw that his puckering asshole was ripe for the taking. I had a smooth vibrator with a narrow-pointed tip, and as it went down, it got wider. He wouldn’t believe the power in the vibration either, but he was about to find out.

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The New Guy

Posted 6 days ago by Anna

Guy

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

One of Mistress Anna’s girlfriends began seeing a new guy. They had invited Mistress Anna out with them to meet this new guy, to which Mistress Anna hesitantly agreed to, as she had many much better things to do. The three of them met for dinner.

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Finger Your Boy Pussy

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639

“Oh my God!” Michael yelled. “I can’t believe you have me fingering my pussy!” I laughed at the astonishment in his voice. It was our first call, and I don’t know what he expected to happen, but when he told me he read my profile and thought it sounded sexy. I knew exactly how this would end.

Michael was face down ass up in his wife’s panties and heels with his fingers stretching out that hungry hole for me. His panties were drenched with precum, and his lips smeared with her lipstick. For someone who wanted to be a sissy girl, I’d say he was well on his way now.

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sea men

Posted 2 weeks ago by Cory

sailors

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

My obsession with sailors and “sea men” began, as all great historical follies do, with a documentary about the Age of Exploration. I found myself utterly mesmerized not by the intrepid captains or the promise of new worlds, but by the burly, salt-crusted men swabbing decks in the background.

There was something about the coiled energy in their forearms and the way their necks met the rough wool of their pea coats. As I’ve always believed, a man who can tie a bowline knot under pressure is a man who could, you know, do a lot of “other” things with equal, competent grace.

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domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The first thing I noticed was the scent of rosemary and cold steel that has seeped into the hallway. Ethan had already begun his morning, the way I taught him to. The brass tray on the footboard of my bed was laid out with meticulous precision. A single red rose, a glass of chilled water, a notebook bound in black leather, and a slender silver key I gave him last winter. He knows the key does not open any lock. It is the symbol of my permission to bear his devotion.

I slipped out of the silk sheets and stepped onto the cold wooden floor. My boots clicked, echoing off the painted walls like a metronome. He was waiting, kneeling at the base of the doorframe with his eyes lowered and his hands clasped behind his back. “Good morning, Mistress,” he murmured.

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Valentine's Day

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, so I’ve been hearing from all of my lovers. The married ones, especially, have been sending me gifts and money. They think they’re buying silence, but the truth is…they’re not. They’re buying the story they tell themselves in the mirror about how they’re still good men, even though they’re fucking filthy cheaters. And me? I’m the price of that delusion.

A serpentine bracelet, diamonds for scales, emerald eyes. It’s from Michael, the cardiologist. His wife posted a photo this morning of the heart-shaped pancakes she made for him. “My rock, my everything,” the caption read. Michael’s hands, the ones that hold human hearts for a living, were trembling when he clasped this expensive bracelet around my wrist. He wasn’t paying for my affection. He was paying to prove to himself that he could still be reckless, even while being overwhelmed by minivans and mortgage payments.

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socks

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404  ☏☏☏ Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Mommy Anna and Sexy little Sister Amber were downstairs talking in the kitchen. Amber went upstairs to grab her new lingerie set and show Mommy Anna, but when she entered her room she gasped: There she found their bad little frilly socks boy! He stole Amber’s pantyhose and her frilly socks and was trying them on in front of the mirror.

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fucking

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The boardroom smelled like espresso and tension. Ethan Carr, the man across the table from me, leaned back in his chair and smiled like he’d already won the merger we were arguing over. I had to remind myself he was the enemy. His company wanted to swallow mine whole. Yet every time he spoke, my pulse did a little somersault.

After hours of circling each other’s bottom lines, we called it a draw. He bought me a drink afterward. His hand brushed mine as he set the glass down. “You’re tougher than you look,” he said. “And you’re full of it,” I shot back, but my smile was weak. We ended up at my place. His laugh was a low rumble as he kissed me. I pulled him closer, as all thoughts of spreadsheets and stock options melted into thin air. He tasted like ambition and something darker…I couldn’t quite name it.

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groupie slut

Jamie 1-844-332-2639 ext 461

They say rock & roll is forever. I’m beginning to believe it. They always called me a groupie, but that word felt too small for what I do. I”m more of a reape. Harvesting not souls, but the electric residue of rock & roll. One night. One body. One debt. Tonight’s offering was a shoegaze frontman named Lysander. His cute face was pretty much always obscured by a curtain of bleached hair and disdain.

I’d been waiting for him, all leather and come-hither, by his tour bus. When he emerged from the stage exit, he looked at me but didn’t speak. He just pulled me into the shadows, as his hands clawed at my tight dress like he was exorcising a ghost. We fucked in the alley behind the dumpster because the rest of the band was already in the bus. He bent me over, dress pulled up. His teeth left a half-moon mark on my shoulder. I didn’t flinch. Instead, I let him do it then watched as he smiled and stumbled back to his bus.

Continue reading “They say rock & roll is forever.” →