Danika * (844) 332-2639 x 466

I have a thing for older men. It’s been this way for quite some time now, and while I keep this secret from the world, I can’t escape my own intrusive thoughts. Recently, they have been about My Boyfriend’s Dad. I’m sure you can imagine, this is a conundrum. I don’t know when it happened, but the more time I spent at my boyfriend’s house, the more keenly aware of his father I had become. It started with the way he laughed, then I started to notice his alpha-take-charge demeanor. The way his work slacks hugged his ass didn’t hurt, either.

My Boyfriend’s Dad also has a noticeably large cock. Sometimes I think he dresses the way he does just so that I will notice. In the age of the internet, every person that has reached sexual maturity knows there are certain things men and women wear to catch the gaze of the other sex. Like when I came over last weekend to watch the game with them, and this man opened the door without a shirt on, wearing the most deliciously fitted pair of grey sweatpants I have ever seen. There’s no way he didn’t notice me staring.

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Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Henry’s eyes flickered behind the spreadsheets and quarterly reports. Until, inevitably, he received another annoying text from his on/off girlfriend, Kelly, who was angry that he was at the office on a Saturday. “You shouldn’t put up with that,” I said, flatly. “She knows you’re working this weekend. Why does she have to start a fight with you about it?”

He stared at his laptop. “She’s my girlfriend,” he finally muttered, as if the definition mattered more than the drama. I leaned forward and the scent of my strawberry perfume wrapped around the table. I was furious that, yet again, Kelly had a burr up her ass and wanted to make Henry pay for it. Not to mention the fact that it had been a long, sexless winter for me and I was ready and willing to help him forget all about that bitch.

Continue reading “Eliminating Henry’s Bitch Girlfriend”

Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

Some friends and I have been planning a trip to the coast for spring break. So we decided to go shopping for bathing suits. And there was a new store in the mall that we wanted to check out. So we all met up at the food court then headed over there. Guys were staring at us, so we were playing around and teasing them. But what we weren’t expecting was all the young guys working at the store we went to. It does have stuff for guys too. But it was all guys working there. They were watching us pick out bikinis while whispering and giggling. There were only a few dressing rooms but one was oversized so we decided to just go in that one together. That way we could all try on all the different ones and be able to see them on each other. It was fun. We were figuring out which one of us each bikini looked best on. That’s when we realized that there were some cracks in the curtains and the guys were spying on us. So we decided to give them a show. We were basically giving them strip teases.

Continue reading “Planning Spring Break”

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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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

There I was, perched on the edge of a plush velvet sofa in Kayla’s living room. Sammy, our sissy girl was excitedly describing the man she’d chosen to marry. He was a team lead at her workplace and he already had a fiance, but that wasn’t going to stop Sammy. Especially, with Kayla and I there to encourage our little homewrecker virgin whore.

As Sammy talked about how she could see the shape of her future husband’s thick cock through his dress pants every morning, Kayla nudged me and whispered, “We should help her choose her bridal lingerie for the wedding night her pussy will never forget!” I laughed, because even just the thought of our sexy little Sammy bouncing up and down on that cock in virginal lingerie was deliciously mischievous in and of itself. “You’re on, babe,” I whispered back.

Continue reading “Sissy Bride Sammy Steals A Husband”

sea men

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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Mary – 1844-332-2639 x 350

I decided to volunteer at the campus library last week, and I’m so glad I did. I ended up making new memories. It started out as a quiet evening. I had decided to stay late since my bed is so cold with my husband always gone. The campus library at night has a way of making me feel warm and cozy. I also really love helping the Freshmen find their way around. The library is so big and had so many places to hideaway. Every nook was filled with comfort and privacy. I often found myself daydreaming about doing unspeakable things to some of the college students I met there. Even though I volunteer there, I see how the guys on the football team look at me. They even call me a MILF; I secretly enjoy the playful banter.

Continue reading “Creating Memories that Can’t be Filmed”

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.

Continue reading “The Day Before Valentine’s Day”

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.

Continue reading “Tales From The Boardroom”

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.”