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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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Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

It was the first day of class with my naughty professor. I wasn’t sure what to expect. But he wasn’t acting weird at all. So I thought maybe we can just move forward and put all of the crazy stuff that happened last year behind us. I was so relieved when the bell rang, and he went about his business. Then right as I was approaching the door, I heard him yell my name. My heart sank and I froze. For a minute, I contemplated just acting like I didn’t hear him. But I knew that would just make things more difficult for myself. So I turned around and walked over to his desk. That’s when I couldn’t believe my ears. He told me that his wife wanted to make dinner for me because they just wanted the three of us to have a fresh start. Whew, that was a huge relief. I happily agreed to join them for dinner.

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I Love Fall!

Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

I was so excited to volunteer at this year’s Fall Festival! Fall is my favorite time of year. The crisp cool mornings and evenings. All of the colorful fall leaves. The aphrodisiac smell of cinnamon sweets baking in the oven. The excitement of Halloween approaching. All of the festive fall décor. And the coziness of snuggling up with a great movie on a cold Autumn night. I love it all! So when Mr. Covington personally asked me if I would like to help out with the Fall Fest this year, I was honored! He owns the venue and organizes the event every year.

When I arrived, Mr. Covington asked me to help him in the pumpkin patch and corn maze. He wanted my opinion on where to place the bales of hay for resting areas along the maze. He was making sure everyone made it through while I was taking pictures of kids, pets, and families in the pumpkin patch. After it was over, he asked me to walk through the maze to check for any lost belongings or anything else.

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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.

Continue reading “Fucking Me In Leather On His Motorcycle”

 

Brandi 1-844-332-2639 ext 417

The casino is all glitter and noise on the surface–flashing lights, endless laughter, the clink of glasses and chips. But tonight, I wasn’t interested in the surface. I wanted what waits in the shadows. I wanted to see what was behind the casino walls.

There’s a door most people never notice, tucked into a corner where the music softens. I slipped through it, heart racing, heals clicking softly against the marble floor. The door was so tight, my dress caught on the plaster wall and tore. I ripped at it and small hole formed. I rubbed at the fabric between my fingers to see if it would continue to tear as the night went on. A little piece of thread floated out of the hole, so I tore at that but it made the tear larger. I hurried down the corridor to the last door and pushed my way through. Continue reading “Behind the Casino Walls”

vampire blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

The old castle felt like a living thing, breathing secrets into the cold night air. I had come here, drawn by a feeling I couldn’t name. Not for beauty, but for something dark, ancient, and undeniably powerful. Candles flickered in the great hall, shadows dancing like hungry spirits. Then, he was there. Vlad. Not appearing, not entering, but simply there. Tall, a silhouette against the deeper gloom, his eyes ancient and knowing.

He moved towards me, silent. Almost as if he was floating above the ground. Every step he took tightened something deep inside me, a knot of fear and something far more interesting. My breath caught in my throat. He wore clothes dark as his soul, and a scent, like old earth and something wild, filled the air around him.

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Rachel 1*844*332*2629 Ext 457

It was back to school week at work. I was excited to dress in the sexy little schoolgirl uniforms. But I wasn’t excited that I really am going back to school. I thought I was going to be able drop out. But my uncle made a deal with me. He will pay my rent if I take at least two classes. But I didn’t want to think about that. I just wanted to concentrate on work and having fun. The guys were loving the uniforms. And I was making some big tips. But then he walked in and spotted me immediately. My professor from last year! I didn’t feel like dealing with him. But at least I wouldn’t him as a professor this year… or so I thought.

He requested to sit in my section. One thing I knew for sure is that he would tip well. So I was okay with that. But his perverted comments and demands were bringing back all the memories from last school year. He basically treated me like he owned me because he kind of did. I was failing his class miserably. So he passed me in exchange for sexual favors.

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

My high school boyfriend and I met at the beginning of our sophomore year. We were so in love and couldn’t get enough of each other. When we met, we were both virgins. We would kiss and make out behind the school building whenever we got a chance. But usually all we could do was play with each other under the desks. We would feel each other, on the outside of our clothes. It was so exciting to feel how hard he would get in his jeans. I rubbed him, and he loved it. It would make me so wet and horny. So I decided to start wearing things that would give him easier access. But it was really for my own pleasure. I started wearing short little skirts. That way he could actually put his hand under them and play with me through my panties. Then one day it happened. He made me cum. When I looked over at him, he looked amazed at the fact that I was cumming. His face turned bright red, and he started sweating profusely. I felt his cock get harder than a rock. Then he started cumming so hard. His jeans were drenched.

Continue reading “My High School Boyfriend”

Brandi 1-844-332-2639 ext 417

The waitress was cute so you gave her a hefty tip. There’s a moment when the air shifts—when the waitress bends just a little too close, when her hand brushes yours on the table, when her smile looks more like a dare than politeness. When she clearly wants more!

That’s when you know this isn’t just dinner.

She’s serving you drinks, yes, but she’s also serving you possibilities. She sees the way you watch her. She notices how your eyes follow her hips when she walks away. And she likes it. She wants you to know that dessert isn’t on the menu—but she’s more than willing to offer it anyway.

Continue reading “When the Waitress Wants More Than a Tip”

glory hole blog

Jamie 1-844-332-2639 ext 461

“You won’t believe the night I had, Jamie,” Randy’s voice crackled, already a little hoarse, buzzing with the afterglow of his nocturnal adventures. He was a creature of the shadows, and his stories were stained with the same grime. I sat at my kitchen table, the half-eaten remains of a microwave meal cooling in front of me. Randy, on the other hand, was sitting in his car, still slick with the memory of anonymous mouths and urgent hands.

“Got a new spot,” he continued, excitedly. “Back of the old cinema, you know the one? Dark. Perfect. There was this big guy, hairy hands. Didn’t even say a word, just went for it.” He launched into the details, the hot breath, the rough stubble, the frantic rhythm against the plywood partition. He painted the scene with such visceral honesty, I could almost smell the stale sex and the cheap cleaner.

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