Category: roleplay phone sex

sea men

Posted 2 days 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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domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The first thing I noticed was the scent of rosemary and cold steel that has seeped into the hallway. Ethan had already begun his morning, the way I taught him to. The brass tray on the footboard of my bed was laid out with meticulous precision. A single red rose, a glass of chilled water, a notebook bound in black leather, and a slender silver key I gave him last winter. He knows the key does not open any lock. It is the symbol of my permission to bear his devotion.

I slipped out of the silk sheets and stepped onto the cold wooden floor. My boots clicked, echoing off the painted walls like a metronome. He was waiting, kneeling at the base of the doorframe with his eyes lowered and his hands clasped behind his back. “Good morning, Mistress,” he murmured.

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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” →

dumb loser betas

Posted 1 week ago by Cory

gooner triggers

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’ve spent countless nights convincing loser betas that I was the answer to all their problems. I had mastered the art of making them believe that I was the only one who truly understood them. They would pour their hearts out to me and tell me all about their boring jobs, their lackluster love lives and their overall sense of inadequacy.

And I would listen, nodding sympathetically, all the while thinking about how they’re nothing more than pussy-free losers with zero hope in finding a girlfriend, or even a one-night stand for that matter, and how I was going to manipulate them into funding my next shopping spree or vacation. I mean, let’s be real, these guys were losers and they knew it. They were desperate for attention. And I was more than happy to provide that attention, for a price of course!

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Goddess

Francie 1844-332-2639 xXx 208  ☏☏☏ Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

After Anna was lucky enough to taste Ocean Goddess Francie and swallow her whole, Francie took her by the hand, and they walked together towards warmer pastures. The snow had indeed melted and Francie led her to a beach that glittered under the moonlight.

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potty abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Kevin hadn’t “pottied” in three days. THREE DAYS. He claimed he was “saving up for a big one.” I didn’t know what that meant at the time, but let’s just say I know now. And I’d rather not discuss it over dinner. When I finally cornered him in the living room, surrounded by crumpled diapers like a hoarder’s confession, he gave me those big eyes and whispered “I wike diapers, Cory.” Try as I might, he really didn’t want to use the potty.

Changing him was always a challenge. Last time, he flopped dramatically onto the changing mat I laid out and whined that the powder irritated his “tushie sensors.” I’m not kidding. Actual phrase. I tried to stay professional, like a diaper-disposal Navy SEAL, but then he giggled and let one rip simultaneously while I had his legs in the air, and I lost it. I mean, I didn’t get angry or anything. Instead, I laughed like a maniac, which only encouraged him to do it again. Sigh.

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homework

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Little Anna came home from school. She went straight upstairs and pretended to get a head start on her homework. When Daddy called her down for dinner she lied and said she would eat later and that she wanted to finish her homework first. But what she really was doing was trying on slutty outfits to meet a boy she liked from school.

Continue reading “Dirty girl Gets caught” →