breeding kink

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Mr. Sterling was from out of town, his accent a low, rumbling melody that hinted at old money and even older secrets. I’d been working on the Harrington merger for months, flying back and forth, enduring endless conference calls with Mr. Sterling and his team. And, today, we’d finally sealed the deal.

“Stella,” he’d said, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “a deal this significant deserves a proper celebration. I’d be honored if you’d join me for dinner.” I hesitated for a split second, the professional in me battling the flicker of intrigue. But the thrill of closing such a massive deal, coupled with his undeniable charisma, won out. “I’d love to, Mr. Sterling.”

Continue reading “Doing Business With Mr. Sterling”

Monster Hunting With Francie And Zoey

Francie 1844-332-2639 xXx 208

“Got the hundredth time,” Zoey whined as she stepped over a large tree root, careful not to trip. “Vampires aren’t real, Frannie. We aren’t going to find a monster! Can we please go back home?” I waved my hand behind me to hush her. We’d been on the trail for a little over an hour, and we’d have already made it to Dracula’s lair if my damn cell service hadn’t gone out.

We were searching blind now that the sun had set, but we were close. I could feel it. Just ahead, framed by large weeping willows, was the maw of a cave. The one I’d been researching. The one where Dracula had set up his home for the last bit of the current century. “There!” I hissed and felt Zoey crash into my back as I stopped abruptly. She let out a squeak when we collided, and the sound caused a cloud of bats to erupt from the mouth of the cave! Their wings caused a rush of warm air so strong it knocked us to the ground. While Zoey flung her arms up to protect her hair, I looked up. Amazed by Dracula’s creatures’ wings and little fangs as they darted off into the night, leaving their Master unprotected.

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wetting in public

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was just minding my own business, while trying to navigate the bustling aisles of the local superstore. Which, let’s be honest, is already a comedic goldmine on any given day. My basket was precariously stacked with various impulse buys when I noticed a dude a few feet ahead of me acting a little…uh…shifty.

He was wearing these beige cargo shorts. In hindsight, they didn’t exactly help camouflage the emerging situation. He kept adjusting his stance, almost like he was doing a subtle, internal dance battle with himself. I initially just thought he had a really itchy butt. Or was perhaps auditioning for a very niche interpretive dance troupe in the cereal aisle. But then I spotted a distinct, darkening patch at the front of his shorts.

Continue reading “Cleanup In Aisle 7”

Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

I went to a crazy college party over the weekend. You’ll never believe what happened. First of all, I couldn’t believe that the party was across the street from the Becketts. The Becketts are my professor and his wife. I started wondering if they knew my friend’s parents. And I started getting worried that they may tell them that their son had a party while they were out of town. I even worried that they may have their phone number. But I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want any questions asked about how I know where the Becketts live. I haven’t told anyone about my naughty little relationship with them last year. No one knew I was doing things with him in order to pass his class. Then his wife found out and got involved. I thought that was all in the past. But sure enough, he ended up having to step in for the professor that was going to teach the class I’m taking this year. And they invited me over for dinner a couple of weeks ago. That’s when Mrs. Beckett pulled me aside, slid her hand up my thigh….

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witches

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Our potent little jar of moon-kissed herbs and dewdrop essence sat between us on the worn oak table. The “magic salve,” as we called it, was a concoction born of generations of hedgewitch wisdom, designed not just to heal the skin, but to awaken the spirit. Beside it, our broomsticks lay ready. Not the bristly kind for sweeping the hearth, mind you, but slender, polished hazel branches, each one unique, chosen and carefully prepared for this very purpose.

With a shared, knowing smile, Kayla and I began the ritual. Dipping the tips of our broomsticks into the shimmering, emerald green salve, we coated them generously. The scent was earthy patchouli, sweet jasmine, and something wilder, like fresh rain on ancient moss. Then, with a slow, deliberate grace, we inserted our broomsticks into our dripping wet pussies, pulling and pushing them in and out of our fuck holes as we moaned with pleasure, ensuring all of the salve

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abdl mommy

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Right now, my patience is wearing thin, stretched to its absolute limit by Timmy’s repeated defiance. Though, he pretends not to notice the storm gathering in my eyes. He knows what he did, and I know he knows, which only makes this impending conversation all the more serious. My heart aches for the difficult lesson that is about to unfold. His naughtiness this morning wasn’t a small oversight or an accidental spill; it was a deliberate act of rebellion. And it was a direct challenge to my authority and the rules we’ve so carefully established for his own well-being!

Despite my clear instructions to always tell Mommy when his diaper was getting full, especially after waking up and having his morning bottle, he decided to ignore me entirely. Instead of asking for a change, he chose to play in his messy diaper, leaving a trail of tell-tale smears on his favorite blanket. And, even worse, on the clean, plush carpet by his oversized crib.

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big dick

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

We’d been flirting for weeks. I pulled open the door, a smile already playing on my lips. Evan stood there, shorter than me by a few inches, his dark hair a little rumpled, eyes crinkling at the corners. He was cute, undeniably, with an effortless charm that hid a surprising intensity. I always had a soft spot for guys I could look down on, literally. There was a confidence in him that transcended stature, and it was utterly captivating.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a low rumble that always sent a shiver down my spine. “Hey yourself,” I replied, stepping back to let him in. We didn’t bother with small talk. His gaze locked onto mine, a silent conversation passing between us that rendered words obsolete. His hands found my waist, warm and firm, pulling me closer until my body was flush against his. A soft gasp escaped my lips as his mouth descended, hungry and urgent. It was everything I’d imagined, and more.

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The Casino

finally

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Miss Anna got a gig at a local Casino as a Cocktail waitress. She prowled around every night amongst high rollers and whores looking for someone to play with. Finally, she stumbled upon a kind gentleman. She offered him a drink, and he obliged.

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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.

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slut blog

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

It was just another Friday afternoon when my phone started buzzing with an urgent message from Grandpa’s life alert system. My heart pounded as I ran to his house, fearful of what condition he would be in once I arrived. By the time I burst through the door, Kayla, the life alert dispatcher, was already on the phone. “Amber, can you see your grandfather?” she asked, her voice steady yet concerned.

There, on the floor, was my elderly grandpa, clutching his penis and writhing in discomfort. “Yep, I’ve got him in sight,” I replied, scanning the scene with a mix of horror and curiosity. Kayla instructed me to wet the tip of his penis with my saliva, explaining that it would make the process easier. I leaned in and gently moistened the affected area by spitting on it. Grandpa let out a pained groan but relaxed his grip slightly.

Continue reading “Grandpa’s Fallen…And He Can’t Cum!”