Category: phone sex blog

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The red ink on the quarterly audit report glared at me like an accusation. I really fucked up the company’s accounting, which made it look like we were laundering money. Wonderful. I heard footsteps as Mr. Sterling, the firm’s CEO, walked into my cubicle. His shadow seemed to engulf my entire desk. “Amber,” he said, as his voice dropped an octave. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

I swallowed hard. My palms were sweating. “I…I thought it was a rounding error?” The look on his face assured me he was not in the mood for forgiveness. “It’s a disaster,” he sighed, as he dropped a heavy folder onto my desk. “I suppose I have no choice but to let you go. HR is finalizing the paperwork as we speak.” Let me go? My rent was due in three days! Panic surged through me. I couldn’t afford to lose this job.

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Resort Confusion

Mama Felicity 1844-332-2639 Ext 270

My husband, Darren, was surprised with an all-inclusive resort vacation. The only catch was his best friend, and his wife would be joining us. I wasn’t thrilled about having to entertain on my vacation, but I couldn’t say no to the idea of white sands and bottomless fruity cocktails.

When we arrived and checked into our suite, I realized the other couple’s room was right across the hall. It seemed silly, but I was too tired from traveling to argue. Darren and the other couple wanted to start the vacation right away, and they dug into the wet bar while I settled into our room. Hours later, when the bedroom door opened, and a body slipped into bed with me, obviously, I thought it would be Darren, not his best friend.

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Needy Sluts

Posted 3 months ago by Rita

Needy Sluts

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

I’m a busy girl. I don’t have time for all the needy sluts clamoring for my attention. One of my favorite ways to keep the horny toys occupied while I go about my business is to handcuff him to a rolling office chair with his pants down to his ankles. I use packing tape to secure a silver bullet to the underside of his hard cock. Not high enough for the toy to buzz the V in the base of his head, but just under it. The remote is also taped to the inside of his thigh. So accessible… If your hands aren’t cuffed behind your back!

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Cock pit

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Miss Anna took a job as a stewardess. She figured she could make some extra money and travel for free. She would flirt with any hot passenger she could find, until one day she was paired up with a really hot pilot. He was young, handsome, and new at his job. She made sure to wink at him and brush up against him any chance she got.

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The first one caught my eye at 2 am. A tweet that read, “I’m lost. Need a hand to hold.” The author’s thin‑lined profile picture was of a man with a half‑smile, signed with his handle @MourningMoth. I replied, not with a greeting but with a command. “Close your eyes. Breathe. Count to three, then type ‘ready’.” The reply came instantly. They usually do.

From there, the dance began. I instructed him to write down his limits, his safe words, and the things that made the darkness feel comfortable. He obeyed and explained that each line he typed was a confession he could not make to anyone else. Of course it was! lol

Continue reading “Lost Subs on X” →

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I stood at the grease-stained counter, twisting my purse strap until my knuckles turned white. Across from me stood Elias Miller. He looked as though he was carved out of rusted scrap metal and bad intentions, as he tapped a thick, calloused finger against the invoice for my car service.

“That’ll be eight hundred and forty, Amber,” he said. He didn’t look up. He didn’t have to. The silence in the shop was heavy, filled only by the smell of burnt rubber and motor oil. I swallowed hard, as the sudden dryness in my throat made it difficult to breathe. “Elias, I…I don’t have it. Not today. I thought I had another week before payment was due.”

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

“Let’s go to the rodeo, Julie!” A friend was visiting from out of state and had always wanted to go to the rodeo. She couldn’t believe that I had never been. It just wasn’t my thing. I didn’t even own a real pair of cowboy boots. But she wasn’t having it. She took me to a cowboy boot store that was a giant warehouse. There were rows and rows of cowboy boots as far as my eyes could see. It was so overwhelming. But before I knew it, I was high on the leather perfumed air. And all of the different styles, colors, and patterns were getting me so excited. But then I saw the ones. I knew the moment I laid eyes on them that I had to have them. And I got so turned on when I put them on. All of a sudden, the thought of going to the rodeo was quite arousing.

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Puppet Master

Posted 3 months ago by Stella

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The only light in my apartment is a single bulb swinging from a loose cord. Puppet, my nickname for the man who walks the line between devotion and dread, is already waiting in my living room with his shoulders hunched as if he’s bracing for a storm he cannot see. His eyes remain fixed on the floorboards and I can hear his breath. It sounds shallow, like the rhythm of a heart that beats faster when it knows it is being watched.

“Stella,” he whispers, trembling. I smile and he flinches. The movement is tiny, but enough to tell me he is listening. The rules between us are more of a contract that’s etched in ink and fear. Obey, or the consequences will be more than a bruised ego. He knows the price of disobedience. Exile, humiliation, the kind of silence that follows you into the night.

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Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The night I first saw my new little sissy girl, Chrissy, she was perched on a cracked stool with her legs crossed so tightly that she seemed to be holding herself together with nothing but sheer will. Her hair was a clumsy knot of pink and violet extensions and her makeup was more of an attempt than it was a success. She had thick eyeliner that drooped, lipstick that was smeared, and her blush was in all of the wrong places. Her too‑small dress clung to her body like a second skin. She was, indeed, a bit of a hot mess.

We got to talking and she nervously asked me the magic question that all of my sissy girls eventually ask. “Do you think you could help me become beautiful?” There was something raw in the way she asked, though. She was very clearly yearning to be seen by a different kind of audience. She wanted not just beauty, but the kind of beauty that opened doors. The kind that turned the heads of men whose pockets were fatter than their morals.

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S.W.A.K

Posted 3 months ago by Francie

xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

Do you remember when you started writing your first love notes? How you’d spill your secrets with ink, confident no one but the intended eyes would read them. Did you scribble “S.W.A.K” on the back, or was that something just girls did? Do you remember what it stood for?

Sealed with a kiss. Your confession of love and lust may have been sealed with a press of your lips to the envelope, but I hate to tell you the girl you sent it with shared your words. Even then, you were nothing but a laughing stock to women.

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