Category: roleplay phonesex

Legs Contest

Posted 13 minutes ago by Amber

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I stood center stage, as the hardwood beneath my heels vibrated with the roar of the crowd. My focus; however, remained entirely on the panel of judges. Specifically, after weeks of studying him in preparation for today, I was focused on Arthur Vane.

Vane may have been a leg contest connsoeur, but he didn’t care about muscle tone or athletic symmetry. It turned out, he had a singular, obsessive weakness…the tactile, liquid sheen of high denier hosiery. Here’s the thing, guys. The winner of the contest was to be awarded a 1 year contract with a top modeling agency, so of course I wanted to win. I needed it!

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You Were Made To Be Mounted

Francie 1844-332-2639 xXx 208

“Wait, I’m not sure.” The quiver in your voice makes my pussy wet. I love that you’re unsure and scared. My hand rubs over your back gently, and I moan. After you slipped that little secret curiosity about being pegged, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about fucking you. I’d convinced you to let me try, but still, you’re hesitant. “You’ll go slow?” You ask me over your shoulder, and I nod. It’s a lie. I have no intention of being gentle or slow once I break into your virgin asshole.

My hand slips over your ass cheeks, and I giggle when they clench. Then I cup your balls, kneading them in my hand as I purr, “You were made to be mounted, baby. Just relax.”

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Black Lover

Avery 1-844-332-2639 ext. 228

I love knowing that my little, white boyfriend is watching me with my big black lover. At first he was too shy to be involved but now he can’t seem to get enough of seeing the real pleasure on my face that only comes from a big cock.

He often stands quietly in the doorway, hands resting in his pockets, as he watches us from across the room. My black lover has me bent over, perfectly in line with his cock, making me beg for him. You can see the faint lines of tension in my shoulders with the anticipation of it all. And I love that when he slides into me it takes my breath away. Every single time! My boyfriend knows this sexual build up in me well as it’s the same before every cuck session.

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Little Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

Last night I went to the cell phone store for an upgrade. Brent, my sugar daddy/landlord, told me to put it on the credit card he gave me. He told me to get the latest version that I had been wanting so badly. I was so excited because I could’ve never been able to afford it myself. The store was really busy. The manager was working his butt off. He kept looking over at me like he felt bad that I had been waiting for so long. Then he finally got a break. The way he looked at me told me it was my turn. Then he walked over to me and asked how he could help. I told him what I wanted. And just like that he was headed to the back to get my new dream phone. I was tingling with excitement. Before I knew it, he was back with my phone. I watched as he opened it. It was so beautiful. He turned it on and asked me to log in so it could transfer the data from my old phone. All of a sudden my nude pics started flashing across the phone, one after another.

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

Here is the link to Macrame Obsession Part 1 https://phonesexcandy.com/macrame-obsession/#more-113988

The fan hitting my white sweat drenched dress was making my nipples hard. And the way it clung on to every curve of my body made it impossible to hide the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra or panties. To make things worse, I was so aroused by watching the instructor tie the knots, that I wasn’t learning how to do it. And now he was calling us up one at a time to test us on the different knots. I was mortified. My heart was racing. The only thing I could do was hope that I could see enough of the students do them that I learned how before my turn. I was trying so hard to pay attention but their backs were towards us so it was hard to see. And the knots were very confusing to me. I was so screwed. When he called my name, I knew everyone could see right through my dress. But at that point, it was my only hope. I thought maybe if I flirted with him, he would go easy on me. But I was wrong. He was not amused.

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Big Blue Balls

*LUCY* 844-332-2639 xxx- 221

Let me get a good look at those big blue balls. Wow baby, when’s the last time you came. I know I told you that you couldn’t cum without me, but you have a really bad case of blue balls. It makes sense though because we’ve been going pretty hard with the tease and denial stuff huh. Emphasis on denial haha. Of course it’s all my fault because when we talk you beg me to drain them, but honestly where’s the fun in that?

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Pamper Fucked

Posted 3 weeks ago by Amber

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Mikey struggle with the tabs on his extra thick pamper. “You’re doing it too tight again,” I teased, sliding off the duvet to help him. Mikey looked up, just in time for me to see his cheeks flushing pink. “I just want it to stay put, Amber. We don’t want a repeat of the accident I had at the grocery store last week.”

I reached out, taking the tabs from his clumsy hands. Once his diaper was secured with a satisfying crinkle-snap, I stood back to inspect my handiwork. “Perfect,” I whispered, ruffling his hair.

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

I just discovered a new obsession with macrame. So when I saw a macrame plant hanger class, I had to sign up. I imagined a group of older ladies. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Most of the people taking the class were in their twenties and thirties, including a few guys.There was a handful of women in their forties and fifties. But the biggest shocker of all was the teacher. I assumed a macrame plant hanger class would be taught by an older hippie woman. That’s what I get for assuming. The teacher looked like one of those male models on the cover of a romance novel. You know the type. Tall, tanned, and muscular with long sunbleached golden hair blowing in the wind. Well, in this case it was getting blown by the fan. But you know what I mean.

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I had spent the afternoon lounging among the mountain peaks, plucking clouds like tufts of cotton, until the tiny, frantic motions of a particularly spirited little man caught my roving eye. He looked like a teeny, tiny spec scurrying across a dinner plate. His frantic gestures only served to heighten my amusement as I reached down with fingers the size of redwood trunks to pluck him from his futile sanctuary.

Cupping my hands around him, I brought him closer to my face. My breath was like a gale-force wind that sent his hair whipping wildly. I couldn’t help but let out a soft, throaty chuckle at the sheer absurdity of his plight. He looked so insignificantly precious, knowing full well that he was entirely at the mercy of my whims.

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I stepped out of the alleyway, with my heels clicking against the concrete. It sounded almost like a siren song for the broken. I wasn’t looking for conversation, I was looking for the magnetic pull of a submissive spirit. You can smell them, really. There’s a specific scent to a man who is tired of his own self-governance. It’s a faint, metallic tang of repressed desperation.

I spotted what appeared to be a perfect specimen near the corner of 4th Street. He standing under the flickering orange glow of a streetlight. Tall, well-dressed in a suit that looked slightly too heavy for his frame, and was clutching a briefcase like a shield. He was trembling, though there was no breeze to speak of. As I approached, I didn’t bother with the softness of a smile. I let my presence be the only thing that mattered.

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