Tag: phonesex

mom

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It’s a confession I never expected to hear, not even from Julio. We’ve been friends since college, seen each other through bad breakups, questionable fashion choices, and career crises. We’re the kind of friends who can sit in comfortable silence for hours, knowing the other is just there. But this? This was uncharted territory.

“I know it sounds wrong,” Julio mumbled, swirling the ice in his drink. We were at O’Malley’s, our usual haunt, the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses providing a thin veil of normalcy around the confessional booth we’d inadvertently created. Julio, with his easy smile and genuine concern for others, was suddenly someone I barely recognized. He sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. “It started a few weeks ago. I was helping Mom clean out the attic. You know how she is, holding onto everything.”

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met gala

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Under the bright lights of the Met Gala, I stood, a vision in silver, my mermaid gown shimmering, my hair adorned with tiny silver flowers. Willie, my ABDL boyfriend, looked dashing in his silver suit, his eyes sparkling with excitement and nervousness. We were nobodies, but tonight, we were the stars, our futuristic attire capturing the attention of every photographer on the red carpet.

As we posed for the cameras, Willie leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. I thought he was going for a sexy nibble, but instead, he whispered, “I’ve had an accident.” Trying not to show my shock as my mind raced with the implications, I reassured him, my voice steady, “It’s okay, baby. We’ll handle it.” We made our way into the venue, our strides confident despite the situation. We bumped into an old friend, who, after a quick explanation, led us to the washroom.

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

Candy Girl Trivia Game Night Tonight!!! Let’s see who knows us best! The questions will be quite simple. All you have to do is study our bios. The answers are all there. There will be twenty two questions. One for each Candy Girl. All you have to do is be the first one to answer with the correct Candy Girl’s name and you get the point. The person with the most points that has not already won a game this month will be the winner. And the winner gets a FREE 15 minute call with the Candy Girl of their choice. But you must choose a Candy Girl that is also participating in the game.

Look over the Candy Girl’s bios to prepare for the game. And I’m sure you will learn things that you never knew before. Learn more about each Candy Girl, our specialties, or shall I say Specialtease? Find out what our favorite roleplays, fetishes, and fantasies are. But you will probably be so horny by the time the game starts. You’ll be a bunch of hard, dripping cocks. Just be careful because we all know you guys can only think with one head at a time.

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Wiener Party!

Posted 5 days ago by Diana

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

You ever go to a Memorial Day BBQ and it turns into a real WIENER PARTY? The smell of burgers and hotdogs wafting through the air. I was a little tipsy from rose and my sundress was clinging to my curves. “I’m going to grab another bottle for us,” I called out to my friends as I headed into the garage, desperate for a moment of shade.

The garage was cool and dim, the treadmill and weights lined up against the walls. I made my way to the fridge in the corner, bending down to rifle through for another cold one. Suddenly, I heard the door click shut behind me. I turned around and nearly dropped the bottle when I saw who it was.

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blog

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 1 week 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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Do I Or Don't I GAME NIGHT With Kayla Cumsalot

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

Ok, ok, OKAY! So you think you know me. After so many years of spilling your fantasy and secrets, you think we’re close. Some of you even believe there is more than just a hot, filthy, naughty call between us now and again, but…have you ever considered I tell you what you wanna hear? That maybe I feed you the version of me that keeps you crawling back to me, instead of what’s REALLY going on in my deviously manipulative brain? Do you actually know me at all? Well, we’re about to find out!

I’ve compiled a list of “Do I or Don’t I’s,” and we’ll see which players know the real Kaykay best! Some are kinky and some are not. Depending on how well you’ve listened to me during our sessions or what you’ve seen on my Twitter, this could be super easy or SUPER hard!

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

“Dr. Julie, I have a question. I enjoy edging over and over again. Sometimes for days. My balls get so swollen and full. And my cock aches. But I don’t let myself cum. Is that ok? I don’t want to do anything that will cause harm to my body,” he inquired with genuine concern.

It may be okay to edge a few times in a day and then cum that same day. But I wouldn’t advise any longer than that. Studies show that men who ejaculate daily, or at least 21 times per month are 30% less likely to develop prostate cancer. This is because when seminal fluid sits in the prostate gland for too long, it can potentially cause a build up of harmful substances. It is of utmost importance to keep your prostate gland thoroughly flushed out. Prostate stimulation or “milking” during ejaculation facilitates this by fully releasing the seminal fluid stored in the prostate gland. This also intensifies the pleasure felt during ejaculation. Stimulating the prostate can also help decrease inflammation, improve erectile dysfunction, help with difficulty using the restroom, and be beneficial for an enlarged prostate gland.

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bukake

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’ve seen a lot in this line of work, regularly catering to all kinds of desires, but Reed was a new experience. He wasn’t looking for the usual. He had this fantasy, he explained, a very specific tableau he wanted to create for years before we met. And honestly, I’m a sucker for helping people explore their passions! He seemed genuine, a little nervous, and the money was good, so I was in.

The hotel room was generic, beige on beige, but clean enough. I got Reed settled in a chair in his underpants, with a slightly bewildered look on his face. “Just relax,” I told him, smoothing down my tight little halter dress so my tits didn’t pop out. “I promise, Reed. Everything’s going to happen exactly as you imagined.”

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pinged

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The notification pinged, a shrill, digital cry slicing through the quiet hum of Mark’s cheap laptop. He knew what it was before he even glanced at the screen. A DM from me. Or, more accurately, the DM. He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the trackpad. It was Tuesday. Rinse day. The day his meager freelance earnings evaporated, funneled willingly into the digital abyss of my demands. He’d managed to tuck away a tiny bit extra this week, clinging to the hope of finally replacing his cracked phone screen. Now, that same phone mocked him from the corner of his desk, a constant reminder of his weakness.

Mark sighed, a sound like air leaking from a punctured tire. He knew the rules. He lived by them. Or, rather, he lived for them. The thrill of the chase, the delicious self-loathing as he emptied his digital wallet, the fleeting sense of purpose it gave him. It was pathetic, he knew. Utterly and completely pathetic. He clicked the DM.

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