Category: wet pussy

Work would never be the same

Stephanie 844-33-CANDY Ext 454

Work was never the same after meeting him. I found myself thirsty for his cock, his mouth & his touch. I would get so wet with a flutter in my chest while driving to the bar&grill where I worked as a server. I was addicted. He turned me out but not before turning me onto things I never knew existed. Early twenties, I knew of BDSM but not on this level. He showed up, like normal. Never knowing which day he would show up. Never knowing where he would take me when we would sneak off on my break. The unknown kept me on my toes, kept me eager to please him and show off for him. Knowing he was watching me serve other men and flirt with other men. But he knew he had me and that he owned me, I was his Sub and he was my Dom daddy. He would slip me notes while I worked the bar. Little notes of instructions for the upcoming week.

These secret notes consisted of specific duties as his sub. Because I never knew when he would show up at the bar, I had to make sure I was always dressed based upon his requests.

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Hot Holiday Weekend

Avery 1-844-332-2639 ext. 228

I know this weekend is a long one for Americans, but I had a hot holiday weekend of my own recently. Canadians celebrate some holidays that Americans don’t have. For example, last weekend was the Victoria Day weekend for us. Or what most of us call the May 2-4 weekend. We celebrate by going to the cottage and letting loose. I usually spend it naked, but I can’t speak for every Canadian haha. It’s our unofficial start of the summer and last weekend was a HOT one for me!
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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Mr. Davenport was different. He wasn’t aggressive or demanding, just quietly eccentric, with a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. This was my first session with him, and already, I felt a knot of nervous anticipation in my stomach. “First things first,” he’d said, his voice a low rumble. “The pantyhose.”

I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t object. Black pantyhose were hardly the strangest request I’d received. I slipped them on in the small, cluttered bathroom, the nylon cool against my skin. When I emerged, he was sitting in a plush armchair, a stopwatch in his hand. “And now, my dear, something sticky. From your pantry, anything will do.” My pantry was a chaotic testament to my haphazard cooking habits. I rummaged through jars and cans, finally grabbing a bottle of honey. It felt cliché, but undeniably, honey reeked of stickiness.

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He was a soldier

Posted 6 days ago by Amber

soldier

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

He was standing on the corner, bathed in the warm glow spilling from O’Malley’s Pub. He was a soldier, I could tell from the crisp cut of his hair and the easy confidence in his stance, surrounded by a boisterous group of his comrades. His eyes met mine, and the noise of the pub seemed to fade into a dull hum. He simply stared, a magnetic pull drawing me in.

He broke away from his friends, a sheepish grin on his face. “Ma’am,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. “I couldn’t help but notice you. Are you headed home? Mind if I walk with you?” I hesitated. The walk was short, only a few blocks. But the man exuded a raw energy that both intrigued and frightened me. “That’s kind of you,” I said. “But it’s really not necessary.”

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Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

This particular night was the roleplay that broke him. He came in cocky. Hands in his pockets, pretending he was in control. I told him to sit. He hesitated. Wrong move. “I said sit!!” My voice sliced through the room like silk over steel. He obeyed. Slowly. I smiled. Good boy.

He wanted to “try something different,” something taboo. I told him I had a fantasy—and tonight, he’d play the part. He didn’t ask questions. That was mistake number two.

I walked around him in stilettos, slow and deliberate, dragging my fingernails across the back of his neck. “Tonight, I’m not your girl. I’m your instructor. And you’re going to learn how to please me properly. You’ve been slacking in your performance… and now, you’re staying after hours.” His breath hitched. His pants tightened. I grabbed his chin and made him look at me.
“I grade on obedience. And right now, you’re failing.” I tied his wrists behind the chair with my silk scarf, slid my thigh over his lap, and whispered all the filthy things he’d have to do to earn extra credit. I traced my tongue along his ear, then slapped his cheek. Gently. Enough to make his Continue reading “The Roleplay That Broke Him” →

Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

I fucked him for revenge and I don’t regret it. He cheated. Lied. Thought I wouldn’t find out. So I called the one man he always hated. His rival. His opposite. Tall, quiet, intense—the kind of man who didn’t have to raise his voice to make you submit. The kind of man who never needed to lie. He just took. I invited him over. Told him the truth. “I need to forget him. Make me.”

He didn’t ask questions. He just shut the door and backed me into the wall, his mouth crashing into mine like punishment and relief at once. It wasn’t gentle. Not even sweet. It was war—and my body was the battlefield. He ripped my clothes off like they offended him. Bent me over the counter and fucked me like I wasn’t just someone’s ex—I was his now.

“Is this how he touched you?” he growled, slamming into me. “Did he make you scream like this?” I answered with moans. With nails digging into his back. With every arch of my hips that begged him to go harder. He gripped my throat—not to choke, just to own me. His free hand fisted my hair, yanking my head back Continue reading “I Fucked Him For Revenge” →

Aynsley 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 459

The moment I walked out of my last final exam, I knew – it was time to party! No more studying, no more stress, no more responsibility. Just a wild summer of non-stop debauchery. And like any self-respecting co-ed slut, I planned to start by getting absolutely fucked silly by the hottest college hunks on campus.

I sauntered into the biggest party of the year, my tight little minidress leaving nothing to the imagination. Every pair of eyes turned my way as I made my entrance. The bass pulsed through my core, making my swollen pussy lips quiver with anticipation.

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Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

He calls the shots and I love it. It starts with a look. Not the kind of look that asks. The kind that commands. The kind that tells you what you’re going to do—and you already know you’re going to do it. He was older. Powerful. Hands always in his pockets, voice low, calm… but his eyes? They owned me before he ever touched me.

“I see the way you look at me,” he said one day, closing the door behind us. “You want to be told what to do, don’t you?” I didn’t answer. I just dropped my eyes and nodded. “Strip. Knees. Now.” And I obeyed. God, I obeyed.

I knelt on the floor—bare, trembling, wet. He circled me like a predator with all the time in the world. He touched me only when he wanted to, how he wanted to. One hand in my hair, the other between my thighs. Every whimper was permission for him to take more.

“You’re not allowed to cum until I say so,” he warned. “Understand?” “Yes, Sir.”
That’s when the game really began. He bent me over his desk, tied my wrists behind my Continue reading “He Calls the Shots—And I Love It” →

Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

It was a three hour flight. But I needed that time to study my lines. Luckily first class was empty. I had it all to myself. Or so I thought. A sexy gentleman rushed in last minute.

Once up in the air, I ordered a drink. Then I got comfy and grabbed my script. I had gotten a small, recurring role on a soap opera. It had been a lifelong dream. So I was beyond excited. But I was very nervous at the same time. Then I overheard the gentleman talking to the flight attendant. He was also in the film industry. This piqued my curiosity. So I looked over to see if I recognized him. He caught me looking. I was so embarrassed. I’m sure he could tell. He smiled and winked. I felt my heart flutter and my pussy tingle. Who was this this sexy man, I wondered. I just had to know.

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Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

He thought he could handle me. He was confident when we met. The kind of man who thought he’d seen and done it all. “I don’t scare easy,” he said with a cocky smile, sipping his drink. I smirked. “You haven’t met a woman like me yet!” We went back to my place, and I could feel the energy shift as soon as the door closed. He kissed me hard—hands on my hips, tongue demanding. But I let him have his fun… for a minute.

Then I shoved him back against the wall, dropped to my knees, and yanked his pants down. “Still feeling brave?” I asked, stroking him slow, watching his breath skip beats. His hands reached for my hair. I slapped them away. “No touching!” I demanded. That was the first rule. “You don not get to touch the queen until I tell you too.The second came after I dragged him to the bedroom and told him to strip.

He obeyed, surprisingly quiet now. I tied him to the chair—naked, exposed, and so fucking hard he was dripping. “I’m going to ruin you,” I whispered, straddling his lap, grinding against him with just enough friction to drive Continue reading “He Thought He Could Handle Me” →