Category: Uncategorized

Magnetic Connection Part Two

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-332-2639 Ext 357

There are questions a girl should ask before she gets into a car with a stranger; magnetic connection or not. Like, maybe his fucking name! Did I ask him? Nope, sure the fuck didn’t. His warm hand pushed me forward, and as if I were the puppet and he was the master, my feet obeyed. We weaved through the bar and out into the cool spring evening. The street was busy, but I was safe, I told myself as we moved down the sidewalk and walked towards his car.

He didn’t speak, but the scent of his aftershave made my nose arch toward his neck. I was so drawn to him that the warning bells clanging in my brain did nothing to stop me when he pulled open the passenger door, and I slipped inside. He leaned into the car and drew the seat belt between my breasts to strap me in. His playful blue eyes met mine, and he purred, “Safety first.”

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  Punishing A Little Theif

Lea 1844-332-2639 Ext. 244

One year, I had this job at the corner gas station. It was a good gig till I got fired for punishing a little. This lil hoodrat would come through after school, pants hanging lower than his tight little ass. He’d have to hold his belt when he waddled to keep them from falling to the floor.

I knew he was too young to be buying adult beverages but that didn;t stop the slick dick from trying. He would turn on the charm, smile at me, and say, “Just this today, Mrs. Lea.” I’d take it from him and tell him to get, but one day, he got real brave.

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xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

I can not tell you how pathetic this caller is. The one thing he’s good for is a fucking laugh. He always rings me up when he’s feeling needy for something a grown man should never want. Taboo is one of my favorites, so typically, I’d be excited to discuss those forbidden desires, but here’s the thing. This dumdum likes to chant the stupidest stuff to blow his load.

“Dumdum wants to cumcum! Dumdum wants to cumcum” I mean, how the FUCK does a woman take that seriously? I guess that’s why his tastes are for jailbait.

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Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357

He stood at the dark window, scowling at the freshly falling snow outside. I slipped up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. My hands rubbed his bare chest and pulled his hard body back against my soft chest. My lips brushed lightly against the back of his neck. “Snow, in the last week of March,” the last words of his sentence were echoed inside of the glass in his hand as he drained the last of the amber-colored liquid.

“Come to bed,” I snickered, placing light kisses across his shoulder. He scoffed, not at me but at the winter wonderland outside, and didn’t budge, as if the heat of his glaring would melt the offending white stuff before it had a chance to stick.

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Sissy Saves The Crops

Ronnie 1844-33-CANDY Ext 443

Now that daylight savings has begun, it’s time for me to plant my own little garden. Daddy allows me one chance every year to show him I’m responsible enough to take on more chores around the farm. And every year, I fail. See, he gives me this plot of land and expects me to harvest the crops I’ve tended over months since daylight saving, but nothing ever grows!

Nothing ever grows because of the little devils with wings! They pick the earth clean of my seeds before the little darlings can sprout roots! Not this year, though! I have a plan to stop them from holding me back!

Sissy saves the crops!

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Steak And Blow Job Day!

Kinky Krysta 1844-332-2639 Ext.410

As soon as I heard Daddy’s truck pull into the drive, I ran outside with my little bare feet and the plastic plate of food I’d grilled up just for him. “Daddy! Daddy!” I squealed as he climbed down from the lifted truck. The little fake grilled steak had slipped off my plate from all my bouncing, but I picked it up super fast and dusted it off. Putting it back on the plate before he could see I’d dropped it.

“Hey Princess, what do you have there?” Daddy asked as he scooped me up into his arms. I proudly showed off the plate of toy green beans, mashed potatoes, and a grilled steak.

“It’s Steak and blow job day, just for you!”

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Mila 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 220

You probably know you’re a dirty pervert. That’s why you’re here anyway. And that perverted mind comes up with such disgusting things to do to ladies like us. I know it, I have seen it with my own two eyes. But, nothing like this has ever even crossed my mind. You sit there, logged into your desktop. The monitor displays a grid of boxes. All showing different angles of the same thing. My apartment. It was a struggle to sneak in while I was gone and hide them without making me think that anyone had disturbed my home. But you were on a mission.

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Mila 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 220

Can’t you imagine having the chance to play with me? I mean, you do have the chance. You just need to pull the reins and fall into it. I bet you lurk these pages, always too scared to set up a call but you peruse the blog posts. Seeing all the fun we get up to in calls. And yet you still choose to sit there! Unsatisfied! You’re doing it to yourself. And why? What exactly are you scared of? Falling off the deep end and satisfying those deep dark desires you have? Why bother continuing to hide them when you could embrace them?

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Dangerous

xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

Walking home, all alone, I was blissfully unaware that I was being followed. Skipping along the side of the road in my pleated schoolgirl skirt and knee-high stockings, the music in my ears was all I could think about. I didn’t consider the fact that my white cotton panties showed every time I kicked my knees up to skip or how dangerous it was to be unaware.

I think it was when I stepped onto my porch, that first step, that I realized something was off. A sixth sense kicked in as I pushed the key into the door. Much too late, however, to save me from the dangerous man who had followed me home.

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Panty Pervs At The Laundry Mat

Robotic Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

The washing machine in my apartment building stopped working, and our cheap-as-dirt slumlord hasn’t even attempted to replace or fix it, so my roommate, Kelly, and I decided we couldn’t put it off any longer. We’d have to go to the laundry mat. I’d never been to one, and the idea of my underthings tumbling around in the view of strangers made me feel a little icky. However, it didn’t seem like I had another choice at the moment.

We piled up our laundry baskets, a bottle of detergent, and a plastic baggy of dryer sheets into the car, then raided my piggybank for quarters. Kelly drove us as I tugged at the tiny booty shorts riding up my ass. I had nothing else to wear until my things were cleaned. As we parked in front of the shady building with people loitering outside, I began to feel more uncomfortable. I didn’t know there would be so many pervs at the laundry mat.

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