tits

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’m currently waiting for my date, Bryan, at this dimly lit, slightly too-loud bar, strategically wearing a top that says, “Yes, these are real, and yes, they require their own zip code,” because why hide the goods? Especially when I’m dealing with a titty connoisseur who specifically requested I wear something “supportive but revealing.” If there is one thing you need to know about me, it’s that I am not subtle.

Bryan finally walks in, and let me tell you, this guy doesn’t even bother with eye contact first! Which usually would be a giant red flag for me, but in his case, it’s more like a giant green, flashing signal advertising mutual appreciation for my, uh, “generous” proportions. I knew he was a dedicated breast man from our first phone call when he subtly (or perhaps not so subtly lol) kept dropping hints about “support systems” and his admiration for “natural architecture.” Seeing him now confirms every delightful, slightly unhinged rumor about his specific interests and the inevitable focus of our evening together.

Continue reading “Bryan Is A Breast Man”

Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

I couldn’t believe what I saw. When I opened his laptop, there it was. His search history was right there in black and white. He had been searching CEI! I had no idea that he wanted to learn how to eat his own cum. I couldn’t believe that after dating for so long, I had no clue. Why hadn’t he told me? He has to know that I am completely open and adventurous sexually. I’m willing to try pretty much anything once. And I’m a pleaser. So I want to please the person I’m with. I want to fulfill all of their fantasies and explore all of their fetishes. It was all starting to make sense. He had been doing stretching exercises and eating a lot of pineapple. Now I know that he was preparing. He wanted to be able to assume the position to squirt it into his mouth and he wanted it to taste sweet when it did. I was getting so excited just thinking about it. So I decided to surprise him. I wanted to give him what he had been fantasizing about all of this time.

Continue reading “I Saw His Search History”

panties

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Miss Anna was getting ready to go out on the town, but she liked to match her panties to her outfits and accessories. She began searching the house looking for a particular pair: they were two toned, lace and caged at the back, perfect for the cheeks.

Continue reading “The Chronicles of Miss Anna’s Panty Slut Pt. 10”

groupie

Jamie 1-844-332-2639 ext 461

I leaned back against the peeling faux-leather sofa, nursing a flat ginger ale. My eyes weren’t fixed on any one person; they were sweeping, taking inventory of the faces that mattered. The ones leaning over the mixing board, the ones holding the actual contracts. My gaze skipped past the girlfriends, the wives, the stable ones. They were wallpaper.

I live for the proximity. I don’t care about the music, not really. When you’re standing next to someone who is currently being applauded, some of that heat spills onto you. I care about the glow. For a few hours, I’m not just so-and-so from nowhere; I’m Jamie who was with HIM. It’s a borrowed shine, and I’m addicted to the reflection.

Continue reading “I Only Have Eyes For Him…Until I Don’t.”

military man

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

My friend Heather cornered me the moment she heard her brother, Henry, was back in the city. “Amber,” she’d whispered, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “I’m throwing him a welcome home party and need you to be there! He’s been gone for so long, and you know…you know how I feel about you and him. Just…take care of him for me, okay?”

Henry was a ruggedly handsome military man, fresh from some top-secret Pentagon assignment. He was the kind of man who made you forget your own name, especially when he was wearing that crisp uniform. I wandered into Heather’s living room and there he was, looking as fine as ever, surrounded by friends and relatives. The air crackled when he looked in my direction. Heather had given me the go-ahead, a playful shove towards destiny, and my heart was doing a frantic drum solo against my ribs.

Continue reading “Henry’s Welcome Home Party”

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

This year’s Halloween party was going to be unforgettable. I’d planned it carefully, picking the perfect theme and costumes for me and my sissy. I combed through his wardrobe, picking out a skimpy latex mini-dress and thigh-high stilettos. I styled his hair in a messy, sex-kitten updo and applied a bold red lip. My sissy’s curves looked heavenly in that little number. I thought he was the perfect slut for our soiree.

Once he was all dolled up, I set to work on my own look. I opted for a vampy witch costume, black lace and leather, with a strategically placed cutout that showed just a hint of cleavage. We were both going for a wickedly sexy aesthetic, perfect for a night of debauchery.

Continue reading “Sissy Halloween Party”

Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

As I sat in the dark room, I wondered why I agreed to participate in the Beckett’s Haunted Mansion. There was a thunderstorm outside. So lightning would light up the room periodically. When it did, I couldn’t help but get scared of my own reflection in the mirror. The Raggedy Ann costume looked so demented. As did all of the hundreds of dolls around the room. I sat in a corner trembling  as I heard screams from the other rooms. I was to blend in with all of the other dolls then pop out and scare them. But when I heard the door open, I froze. I heard men’s voices. They were laughing and talking about how they’ve always wanted to fuck a doll. I remembered reading about agalmatophilia. Then they walked right up to me. One turned on the flashlight on their phone and shined it right on me. He started touching me and telling the other guys that I was so realistic. Then they started touching me as well. I was too scared to move. Luckily, he put the phone down, so I was able to blink and breathe. But then they began groping me.

Continue reading “Becketts’ Haunted Mansion Part 2”

Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

The Halloween party started to turn really wicked when I headed to the storage room. The staff was pretty overwhelmed. So I was just trying to help out. The bar needed to be replenished. So I headed downstairs and down the long, dark hallway. That’s when I realized that I was being followed by the Grim Reaper. I had seen him around the party, but I had no idea who he was. I should’ve just asked him if I could help him. But he was really freaking me out. The faster I walked, the faster he walked. My heart was racing. Suddenly I realized that I didn’t have my phone. And the music was so loud upstairs that no one would be able to hear me scream. I hadn’t even told anyone that I was going down to the storage room. It felt like I couldn’t get to the door fast enough. But when I finally did, I got in and locked the door behind me as quickly as possible. I had never been that scared in my life. It felt like I was in there forever just waiting for him to leave. And I hadn’t heard a peep.

Continue reading “The Wicked Halloween Party Part 2”

Cuck Conquests

cuck blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I carefully orchestrated opportunities for my new boyfriend to witness my infidelity. I’d invite my conquests over for dinner, making sure he caught a glimpse of them walking up our driveway or lingering in our backyard. The look of anguish on his face was music to my ears, fueling my desire to push him further into despair.

I’d take my lovers to intimate gatherings he’d planned, savoring the jealous glares he sent my way. Our sex life became a battleground, with me alternating between tenderness and cruelty, keeping him perpetually off balance. I reveled in the power I held, knowing that beneath his bravado, he was slowly losing his grip on the relationship.

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witch sex

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

It was Hallowe’en night. Outside, the mortal world celebrated with plastic masks and cheap candy. But I craved a real thrill, a true terror. I had spent seven Hallowe’ens trying to communicate with spirits, but to no avail. Tonight, I wasn’t summoning a familiar; I was calling something hungry from the deepest trench of the underworld.

My voice, raw and aching, delivered the final incantation: “Come, Shade of the Forgotten. Taste me, for I am willing.” The candles—tallow dipped in fat—did not flicker. They simply vanished, plunging the room into absolute, freezing darkness. Then, almost instantly, he materialized. He wasn’t a sheet or a spectral mist. He was the perfect, sculpted embodiment of shadow, a man stitched together from cosmic cold and palpable malevolence.

Continue reading “Sex Witch Hallowe’en”