Category: phone sex blog

nipple play Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Liam was frantic when he finally showed up for our play date. He was always a little sweaty, but this time he was breathing hard. When I asked, he said it was because he ran all the way to my house, but I like to think it was really just a mix of adrenaline and paranoia from sneaking around. He was, after all, my best friend’s brother.

“I only have forty minutes, Amber. Seriously,” he whispered, backing me against the door and already burying his face in my neck. “Forty minutes is plenty for the main event,” I purred, pushing him back slightly so I could appreciate the view. Liam is a bit of a walking contradiction. He’s a quiet, bookish engineer by day, and a total submission demon by night.

Continue reading “Holiday Nipple Play” →

Valerie 1844-332-2639 Ext 243

Late last night, I was closing up the little local bar I work at. It was just the perverted cook, and I left in the building. I’d just closed the register and put all the chairs on the tables so I could mop when I felt him watching me.

Those little warning hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I tried to hurry up and get out of there as fast as I could without any problems, but when I went to the back to get my purse, he was standing in front of my locker. “You look so good tonight, Val.” He said while reaching down to adjust his pants.

Continue reading “What Are You Gonna Do With THAT?” →

Forcing A Panty Sniffer

Rita 844-33-CANDY Ext 413

AH HA! I fucking caught you! I knew someone was sneaking into my room and rifling through my dirty hamper, I just didn’t know it was a wanna be sissy panty sniffer!

Oh, what’s that? You don’t want to be a sissy? You just love how my musky scent lingers on the fabric after a full day of wear? Sure, sure. And you only slip the panties up your hips because you’re imagining humping your pathetic clit against me while I’m wearing them?

Continue reading “Forcing A Panty Sniffer” →

naughty neighbor

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

My new neighbor moved in the other day. I watched him struggle with a massive sectional sofa for an embarrassing amount of time before approaching him. I wanted him sweaty and a little out of breath. My initial move was classic because it’s always effective: the overly dramatic “lost valuable” scam. For the purposes of “research” (research, being specifically for my wet, throbbing pussy of course), I dramatically misplaced my favorite, irreplaceable, and currently non-existent diamond earring somewhere near his threshold.

“Oh, sir! I’m so dreadfully sorry, but I think the heirloom my great-grandmother gifted me has rolled under your welcome mat!” He immediately stopped struggling with the sofa and scrambled to help me search, completely missing the fact that my entire body language was screaming, “Forget the the diamond, let’s just make poor choices immediately with our clothes off.”

Continue reading “My new neighbor moved in the other day” →

Roxy 1(844) 332-2639 Ext 414

There’s just somethin’ ‘bout a cowboy that I can’t resist. Most of the gentlemen members at the club are older, successful men in designer suits. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a sucker for a sexy, silver haired sugar daddy. But there’s just somethin’ ‘bout a cowboy that makes my pussy pitter patter. So when my friends invited me to the rodeo, I just couldn’t say no. Some women get off to the smell of leather designer shoes and bags. But I get off to the smell of leather cowboy boots and chaps.

It had to be so obvious that I was walking around on the verge of cumming in my panties. All of those cowboy hats and tight asses in wranglers made me so weak in the knees. Watching them riding while roping the bulls at the same time was such a turn on. One of them especially caught my eye. He was the epitome of masculinity. His body was that of a perfectly chiseled hard working cowboy. And his honey colored curls naturally highlighted by hours out in the sun. That boy was HOT!

Continue reading “There’s Somethin’ ‘Bout A Cowboy” →

cock

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I love weiners. Cocks, penises, la queue. Whatever the polite name is, or the dirty one, the object remains the same. For me, it is the center of the world. It’s not just a casual interest; it is an obsession. I remember once, walking through the grocery store. List in hand, I paused in front of the thick packaged sausages. My friend, Élise, was with me. She asked, “Stella, why are you staring at the food?”

I didn’t answer right away because I was too busy looking at the weiners. It sounds silly, I know. A girl obsessed with hot dogs. But they remind me of big, fat, juicy cocks. My stomach was hungry, but that had nothing to do with lunch. This need is so intense! When I see a man, really see him, my eyes skip the face and I ignore the clothes. They go straight to the center of his pants, imagining the veins, the rough heat under there just waiting to fill up a girl like me. It’s an instant turn on!

Continue reading “I love weiners and weiners love me!” →

tits

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’m currently waiting for my date, Bryan, at this dimly lit, slightly too-loud bar, strategically wearing a top that says, “Yes, these are real, and yes, they require their own zip code,” because why hide the goods? Especially when I’m dealing with a titty connoisseur who specifically requested I wear something “supportive but revealing.” If there is one thing you need to know about me, it’s that I am not subtle.

Bryan finally walks in, and let me tell you, this guy doesn’t even bother with eye contact first! Which usually would be a giant red flag for me, but in his case, it’s more like a giant green, flashing signal advertising mutual appreciation for my, uh, “generous” proportions. I knew he was a dedicated breast man from our first phone call when he subtly (or perhaps not so subtly lol) kept dropping hints about “support systems” and his admiration for “natural architecture.” Seeing him now confirms every delightful, slightly unhinged rumor about his specific interests and the inevitable focus of our evening together.

Continue reading “Bryan Is A Breast Man” →

panties

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Miss Anna was getting ready to go out on the town, but she liked to match her panties to her outfits and accessories. She began searching the house looking for a particular pair: they were two toned, lace and caged at the back, perfect for the cheeks.

Continue reading “The Chronicles of Miss Anna’s Panty Slut Pt. 10” →

masturbation

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

It smells in here, like cheap drinks and a lot of dreams. I walked fast through the backstage hall and pushed open the door to my small dressing room. I needed privacy and quiet. But I needed something else, too.

On stage, I am bright lights and fast moves. My smile is for the money. But in this quiet room, the smile is just for me. I looked at the mirror. Glitter was everywhere. I started taking off my outfit. The velvet, the straps, the tight little things. Slowly. I like this part. Peeling off the layers and the feeling of myself, it comes back.

Continue reading “Backstage Masturbation Fun” →

diaper boy

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I still remember the day I met Mark. Tall, dark, and diaper-clad. His pants were noticeably puffy in the crotch, and a wry smile played on his face as he introduced himself. As we struck up a conversation, the puff in his pants grew, revealing a telltale outline. Mark casually mentioned his “accidents” and how they’d been an issue his whole life. He explained that he wears diapers when he’s away from home as a “safety net” in case he wets himself. I was taken aback, but his charming self-assurance put me at ease.

Fast forward a few months, and there I was, the girl who carried diapers in her purse, because you never know when Mark might have an “oops” moment. We’d become quite the pair, giggling through public mishaps and turning nighttime wetting into a playful routine. After Mark’s morning shower, we’d drape him in a fresh diaper, then I’d stroke his cock as he came to the crinkly sound of my hand moving up and down his shaft inside his clean pampers.

Continue reading “Tall, dark, and diaper-clad.” →