Category: phonesex slut

sea men

Posted 4 months ago by Cory

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.” →

pantyhose

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I’m standing in the produce aisle, when a familiar voice calls my name. I turn and there he is. Jake, the boy who used to sit two seats away from me in English class. I used to let him dry hump me in his car. He’s older now, but the same mischievous glint flickers behind his eyes.

“Amber?” he asks, as a grin spreads across his face. I can’t help the sudden rush of nostalgia and before I know it, we’re wrapped in a brief, tight hug that feels like the world has tilted back to those late‑night study sessions. “Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

Continue reading “Pannnnnyhoooose Jake” →

big tits

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

There was a time when I’d try to wear loose-fitting clothes to minimize the attention, but it seemed like the more I tried to hide them, the more my giant tits seemed to, well, bulge out. I’d get comments from strangers, some of whom would be kind enough to offer me “helpful” advice on how to reduce their size (and others who, um, offered to test their firmness as if I couldn’t see their boners growing in their pants).

One of the most memorable experiences I had was during a family vacation to the beach. I opted for a bright pink bikini with a built-in bra, which seemed like a good idea at the time (spoiler alert: it wasn’t). As I was applying sunscreen, I noticed a group of guys staring at me from a nearby beach umbrella. That was when my quick-witted brother jumped in and started doing a play-by-play commentary of the scene, complete with over-the-top sports announcer voice and ridiculous sound effects.

Continue reading “Attention to Titties” →

slut

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

As my friends and I walked down the street, laughing and chatting, we were suddenly stopped by the host of “SilverFox Express.” The show was notorious for its raunchy content, where Max, a man in his 50s, would take a younger woman on a series of sexual adventures and callers would bid on what they’d do next. It was all about shock value and pushing boundaries. My friends all pussied out, but I was so ready to get started! Max sure was a hottie after all and I couldn’t wait to get down n’ dirty with him.

Max was charming and flirtatious. I found myself easily playing along, laughing and teasing him in front of the camera, while he told viewers about how much he liked my perky tits and ass. I was determined to be the best guest the show had ever had. After a few minutes of flirty, sexy banter, the bids started rolling in. “Remember, folks. Amber gets to keep whatever you bid, so make sure to pay the lady well for her efforts! I can already tell that she’s got some tricks up her sleeve!”

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The Bellagio

Posted 5 months ago by Amber

vegas

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The other day, Ethan called via video chat. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said with a grin. “I’m at the Bellagio. You have time for some fun?” Behind him, the iconic fountains erupted in perfect, choreographed chaos. “Did you seriously just call me from Vegas?” I laughed, “You KNOW how badly I wanna go!”

He tilted his phone, giving me a panoramic view of the fountains. Then, without a word, he shifted the camera. The fountain’s roar faded into a soft, low hum as the focus snapped to him. He was standing in a plush, midnight‑blue suit, with the jacket unbuttoned just enough to reveal the crisp line of his chest.

Continue reading “The Bellagio” →

Isabelle 1844-33-CANDY Ext 464

I spent the whole day teasing my neighbor like the slutty bratty girl that I am in my tiny bikini and cut-off shorts as I garden. The way he kept “accidentally” walking by as I kept bending over as I was pulling the weeds was adorable. His wife was home too, which made it even more deliciously naughty.

Tonight I’m feeling particularly bratty and decided to wear my shortest skirt with no panties to the corner bar. keeps looking down when I “accidentally” drop my napkin, and I slowly bend down to pick it up. I’ve already gotten three free drinks in an hour; I swear I’m the luckiest.

Continue reading “confessions of a slutty bratty princess” →