bbl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

As I walked around my neighborhood the other day, I caught a glimpse of a man near the corner café. His coffee cup was practically suspended mid-air as his gaze drifted downward, completely forgetting the conversation he was having with his companion. It was a look I had grown accustomed to ever since I had my BBL last summer.

I didn’t feel like a victim of unwanted attention or anything. Rather, I felt like a masterpiece on display. Some only wanted to admire it, while others longed to touch it…taste it…fuck it…some even wanted to smell it! Which was fine by me, as I’d spent years living as a flat booty babe who could only dream of the day when I’d strut through the city and watch the world tilt on its axis just to get a better look at my fat ass!

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Little Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

I knew it was coming sooner or later. It’s no secret that I don’t do well in his class. I knew I was failing, again. So I decided to take things into my own hands and be proactive. The only way he’s going to pass me is if I do sexual favors for him. I didn’t want to wait for him to start demanding. I was surprised that he hadn’t already. But when class was over, he just stepped out of the room. So I got under his desk and waited for him to return. It’s a thing we do. I get under his desk and give him a blow job while he sits there. But students started pouring in for the next class before he did. Then I finally heard the door close. A woman’s voice began explaining that she would be teaching the class because Mr. Beckett had an appointment. I couldn’t believe it. It was Mrs. Beckett, his wife. How was I going to explain this? She had already caught us in the past. So of course she was going to know exactly what was going on. But the three of us have also done things together.

Continue reading “I Knew It Was Coming”

Junie 1844-332-2639 ext 397

I was going about my day like usual. After my run, I slipped off my shoes to air out my sweaty feet. Stretching out on the lawn the way I always do. That’s when I noticed a small blister forming, nothing major, just enough to make me pause and absentmindedly rub my foot, trying to ease the sting.

Nothing particularly exciting.

Then my phone lit up.

Continue reading “My Neighbor the Sweaty Feet Worshiper”

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.

Continue reading “I really fucked up at work today”

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.”

Continue reading “scrap metal and bad intentions”

Danika * (844) 332-2639 x 466

There is something inherently sexy about spring. The sun revives us, the earth itself working to become fertile; plants and birds alike come to life. There are numerous texts throughout history that speak of fertility rituals across every culture. I would like to focus on a particular work that is fueling my current fantasies. The Histories by Herodotus speaks of Sacred Sex Temples in Mesopotamia. At the start of spring, it is said that women would go to these sacred temples and wait until a man offered her money in exchange for access to her body. He would then fuck her in the sacred temples as an offering to the goddess Inanna.

I can’t even begin to tell you how wet it makes my panties, how much I want to touch myself at the thought of offering myself to a stranger in a Sacred Sex Temple.

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phone sex

 

Milan 844-33CANDY Ext. 398

 

Barely legal sex is way too much fun! Especially, when you can find a very good girl who likes to do very bad things. The type of girl who always follows directions, so when you tell her to get down on her knees in front of you, she’s down before she can even give it a second thought. The type of girl that you only have to teach once, before she’s swallowing you whole with her eyes screwed shut and spit dripping down her chin.

 

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Seducing My Son

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

“Hey, Mom,” my son announced as he walked into my bedroom. “I wanna know why you’re fucking the neighbor instead of Dad.” He looked at me, smirking, as if he was in full control of the situation. I sat on the bed and cleared my throat. “Honey, your father hasn’t touched me in years. Stay out of it, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into…” He shook his head and laughed, almost manically. “No, Mom. Tell me WHY…or else, I’ll tell Dad what you did.” I gasped. “Oh no, you won’t!”

He mocked me, suggesting that the only way to keep him silent was to give him a reason not to tattle to his father. So, I did what any respectable mother would do. I seduced him. “How do you know I fucked the neighbor?” I asked, as I unbuttoned the first few inches of my blouse. He looked me straight in the eye and said “I watched.”

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Wedding Season

Roxxxy 1(844) 332-2639 Ext 414

Wedding season is upon us. So the bachelor parties have been picking up. So far, I’ve been hired to do a few over the next couple of months. Most of them hire two or three dancers. But last weekend I had a solo gig. It turned out to be the craziest bachelor party that I’ve ever done. And it made me wonder if I should ever do one alone again. When I arrived, the butler showed me to the elevator. He told me that the party awaits me in the basement. The elevator took me to the cold, dark underground floor. I stepped out into a dark hallway and heard a faint mumble. I followed the sound to a huge, heavy, wooden door at the end of the hall. When I pulled the door open, it was so loud inside. Music and belligerent men yelling and being rowdy pierced the air. I quickly realized that it was a sound proof basement. The guys were young, early twenties, pumped with adrenaline and testosterone. You know, spoiled rotten, entitled types. They’ve grown up with way too much money and think they can do whatever they want.

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BALL DRAINING

(844-332-2639) ext 398

 

March is the hottest month for hoop bunnies like me. The taller the player, the bigger the cock. That’s why I’m celebrating March Madness on my knees. I plan to dribble on as many balls as I possibly can. It’s not hard to find horny players. After a game,players go out to get fucked up and celebrate another win. Their veins are pumping full of adrenaline and testosterone. And their riding the fuck out of the winners’ highs. They deserve a quality ball draining to help them blow off steam. It’ll help them focus on the next game. I’m more than happy to show my team support. 

 

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