motorcycle slut

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

A black leather jacket, worn just right, hugged his wide shoulders. Dark jeans, heavy boots. His hair was long, pulled back in a knot, and he had a look in his eyes that said he knew things I didn’t. A scar cut a thin line through his eyebrow. He was a bad man, I thought. And my stomach twisted with a strange, dark excitement.

He didn’t look at anyone else. His eyes, dark like midnight, found mine across the room. A slow, knowing smile reached his lips. My heart, which had been so bored just moments ago, started to beat against my ribs. I didn’t smile back, just held his gaze like a silent dare.

Continue reading “Fucking Me In Leather On His Motorcycle”

 

Brandi 1-844-332-2639 ext 417

The casino is all glitter and noise on the surface–flashing lights, endless laughter, the clink of glasses and chips. But tonight, I wasn’t interested in the surface. I wanted what waits in the shadows. I wanted to see what was behind the casino walls.

There’s a door most people never notice, tucked into a corner where the music softens. I slipped through it, heart racing, heals clicking softly against the marble floor. The door was so tight, my dress caught on the plaster wall and tore. I ripped at it and small hole formed. I rubbed at the fabric between my fingers to see if it would continue to tear as the night went on. A little piece of thread floated out of the hole, so I tore at that but it made the tear larger. I hurried down the corridor to the last door and pushed my way through. Continue reading “Behind the Casino Walls”

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.

Continue reading ““the oldest profession adapts to anything””

whore

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Ah, the whispers. They follow me, rustling through the market stalls, fluttering down cobbled streets. “La Française,” they hiss, as if my origin were a mark of evil itself. “That tramp. She’s a lady of the night, you know.” And then the little tittering laughs, like dry leaves moving across the pavement.

Me? I just tuck a rogue curl behind my ear, adjust the scarf I found near the canal – a surprisingly chic silk, mind you – and flash them a smile. A wide, toothy grin that usually makes them flinch. Because, mon chéri, they’re right. Every last word of it. They call me Stella. Or sometimes, if they’re feeling particularly brave and convinced of their own moral superiority, “that hussy.” I don’t mind. A name is a name, and a hussy, well, a hussy knows how to live.

Continue reading ““La Whore Française””

Casual Kevin

cheating blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Kevin and I, we’d been “casual” for a few weeks, which in the real world meant “hooking up whenever his girlfriend, Honey, was out of town or at her pottery class.” My apartment was literally next door, so the commute was minimal, the discretion even less so. We both knew it was a terrible idea, but his charm was a potent, morally bankrupt force, and my willpower was…well, let’s just say it was on sabbatical.

This particular Tuesday, Honey was supposedly at a weekend-long retreat for artisanal candle makers. Kevin, ever the opportunist, had texted me at 10 AM. By 10:30, I was letting myself into his place, the familiar scent of his expensive coffee and my own impending bad decisions hanging in the air. We’d started in the kitchen, migrated to the sofa, and eventually, in a moment of utter, ill-advised passion, found ourselves butt naked, fucking on the bathroom floor.

Continue reading “Casual Kevin”

sph

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

My phone buzzed, displaying a name I’d purged from my active memory: Max. We used to date, for a brief, almost embarrassing, period. That was, until I discovered just how minuscule his dick actually is. We’re talking the size of a chapstick tube, maybe even a used one at that. Our relationship, if you could even call it that, ended abruptly after I realized my needs were just going to gather dust, indefinitely.

His voice on the other end was a pathetic, wavering mess. He started apologizing, rambling about how he’d messed up, how he missed me, how he’d changed. He even dared to beg me to take him back. My mind, however, was already back in my apartment, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I’d actually have to fake it again. The answer was a definitive, resounding no. I can’t date a guy who is utterly incapable of satisfying me! And what did he mean by “changed”? Did he have a donor cock surgically attached to his tiny little weiner?

Continue reading “I Wish Max Had a Bigger Dick”

Tiny Tim

bethany054.jpg (400×600)

Bethany 1844-33- CANDY ext 260

He was super embarrassed. Cheeks red, and flushed. I could tell he was a bit insecure when I approached him and casually asked to suck his cock. He was really cute, with eyes that glowed. He has these blue / ice colored eyes that seem to look right through you. Memorizing. Hypnotic. Tiny Tim.

Continue reading “Tiny Tim”

slut

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I’ve always had a reputation for being a bit of a free spirit. I was born in Quebec, and maybe that’s where my love for adventure comes from. We all know the Quebecois are fond of adventures! I’ve never been afraid to explore my desires, and that’s exactly what brought me to this small, romantic town on the coast of Italy last week. I’d been wandering the winding streets, taking in the sights and sounds, when I stumbled upon a quaint little cafe. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries wafted through the air, and I couldn’t resist stepping inside.

As I entered, I noticed a handsome man sitting alone at a table near the window. His eyes met mine, and I felt a spark ignite within me. He smiled, and I found myself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I approached him, my hips swaying seductively as I walked. “Mind if I join you?” I asked, my French accent on full display. He grinned and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Please, do,” he said, gesturing to the empty chair across from him.

Continue reading “My Reputation Precedes Me”

cock carnival

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

On my tropical vacation last week, I’d somehow stumbled upon this adults-only amusement park called “Erotica Land.” It wasn’t advertised on any mainstream tourist sites, more like a whispered legend passed between hostel-dwellers. Intrigued, and admittedly a little bored, I found myself walking through its surprisingly tasteful, yet undeniably suggestive, gates.

The park was a kaleidoscope of risqué rides and themed attractions, but one particular monstrosity dominated the skyline: a colossal, undeniably phallic structure that twisted skyward. A neon sign at its base pulsed with a name that made me snort-laugh: “The Cocktival.” I couldn’t resist. As I got into the line, a theme park employee, looking suspiciously like a retired burlesque dancer, handed me two items. “For the cream, sweetie,” she purred, pressing a sealed condom and a pair of industrial-strength swim goggles into my palm. My eyebrows shot up. This was going to be an experience.

Continue reading ““Erotica Land.””

A BBC Dream

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Bethany

1 844-33-CANDY ext 260

I was looking up at him, stroking my tongue up and down his cock. Suck his balls, slurping them in my mouth, as my chin drips in a slobbery mess, and I deep throat that big black cock. I was making a huge mess on the hottest athlete in college. Sexy, sick pack abs, big bubble firm ass, juicy lips, and dreamy eyes. He knows exactly how to do it. The best.

He picks me up in his arms.  This man is FINE as fuck!! He slowly strokes his fat black cock inside my tight little hole. Very gently, he’s giving me the long, deep strokes all through my walls. Each stroke he moves his hips, and his fatty bounces up ! OH MY GOSH he has the perfect body. A BBC dream. This will send a shiver down your spine. The best sex with man I have ever had was with BBC.

Continue reading “A BBC Dream”