PHONESEX

(844)-332-2639 ext 398

I might have the best neighbors ever. Yesterday, I ran out in my robe to grab my mail and accidentally locked myself out. No one else was home and I didn’t even have my phone to call for help. That’s how I ended up half naked on my neighbors porch, asking for him to let me in. He said his wife was at work, but that I could call my parents with his phone. And when he heard it would be a few hours before anyone could come home with a key, he invited me to wait it out there. He even brought me orange juice. 

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Ronald is successful and entirely too confident for his own good. He sits alone at the mahogany bar, swirling a strong drink, vibrating with the kind of arrogance that begs to be shattered. What he doesn’t seem to realize (yet, anyway) is that I know exactly what men crave. They crave the illusion of control, right up until the moment I strip it away.

As I slide onto the stool beside him, his gaze instantly drops to my legs. I see the spark in his eyes and know that he’s looking at my shiny black pantyhose. As I shift my weight and cross my legs, the faint hiss of fabric rubbing against fabric is audible only to us. The sound mimics the tightening of a knot.

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Legs Contest

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I stood center stage, as the hardwood beneath my heels vibrated with the roar of the crowd. My focus; however, remained entirely on the panel of judges. Specifically, after weeks of studying him in preparation for today, I was focused on Arthur Vane.

Vane may have been a leg contest connsoeur, but he didn’t care about muscle tone or athletic symmetry. It turned out, he had a singular, obsessive weakness…the tactile, liquid sheen of high denier hosiery. Here’s the thing, guys. The winner of the contest was to be awarded a 1 year contract with a top modeling agency, so of course I wanted to win. I needed it!

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was standing in the aisle of my favorite grocery store, staring down a mountain of bulk-sized diapers and an alarming amount of diaper rash cream. Just as I reached for a box of premium-brand pull-ups, a very handsome man appeared beside me. I looked up to find a grin on his face that suggested he knew exactly what was happening in my world of ABDLs.

“Hosting a birthday party?” he asked, as he glanced from my face to the mountain of plush, absorbent goods piled high in my cart. I felt my cheeks flush, but I leaned into it and smirked, while tossing my hair over my shoulder. “Some of my guests are just notoriously messy,” I said, as I innocently batted my eyelashes at him.

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

My collection of toys is a gallery of exquisite agony and, to be entirely honest with you, I love it. Each object holds its own place in my heart; however, there are two in particular that I love the most. There’s a heavy, weighted flogger constructed from braided leather that feels like a conversation with gravity every time I use it. I’ve also recently acquired a set of glass blown dilators that shimmer like trapped lightning under the dim glow of my crystal chandelier.

When I’m here in my dungeon, I’m not Stella the accountant, or Stella the daughter, or Stella the woman who worries about the passage of time. I’m only known as Mistress Stella, the creator of sensations. I love the way the room seems to inhale when I’m ready to play. There’s a specific kind of power in being the stillness at the heart of the storm, and I relish every moment of it. I pick up a single, slender crop, testing the weight of it against my palm. The leather is supple, worn smooth by years of practiced intent.

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Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

He was between my thighs, exactly where he liked to be, with his face pressed into the fabric of my silk robe. I stared at the ceiling, as my eyes traced the cracks in the plaster. I felt nothing but a cold, clinical detachment. Jakob was a man of specific, diminishing appetites. He adored the feeling of being small, of being conquered, of being treated as nothing more than a footstool. For a while, the novelty had been enough. But novelty is a fleeting currency and…well…I had spent every last cent of it.

“Is that all you’ve got, Jakob?” I asked, not so innocently. He knew he couldn’t provide the raw, overwhelming friction I craved. He was a plaything, not a partner, and I was starving. “I’m going out,” I said, rising from the edge of the bed. Jakob stayed knelt on the floor, with his hands folded neatly in his lap, looking up at me with that signature blend of adoration and anxious eagerness. “Will you be late, Amber?” he asked.

Continue reading “I felt nothing, so I cucked him”

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

If you haven’t guessed by now, I am entirely, unapologetically obsessed with dicks. There is something about a cock in my mouth that feels like a symphony to my senses. I like to take my time selecting the perfect specimen, then warm it up just enough so the precum begins to glisten. The weight of a thick juicy cock in my hand, and the smooth, firm texture in my mouth always promises pure satisfaction for both of us.

I remember the first time I realized how much I truly loved sucking on cocks. It wasn’t just the flavor of the cock itself, but the physicality of sucking one that really sold me on it. I met a guy at a small bistro in NYC and soon found myself slowly and seductively going down on him under the table, letting the taste of his precum linger on my tongue. That man’s thick creamy cum burst forth, coating my tongue with his salty goodness. I wasn’t just tasting it, I was intimately exploring every inch!

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

He’s trembling on the cold linoleum floor, with his head bowed and rope coiled around his wrists. His eyes keep darting to the edge of the room where a single candle sputters. He was supposed to be silent, yet he laughed. I warned him, earlier. “Speak when I say.” He chose not to listen.

The candlelight dances across his features, painting them in shades of guilt and anticipation. “Come,” I command. He stands, but his gaze does not meet my eyes. I circle him, as the leather strap in my hand swallows the light. “Listen,” I say, as my fingertips brush the strap’s surface. His head snaps up, and his eyes are wide and pleading. I lay the strap across his chest. “Your mistake was not in the sound you made, but in the thought that you could speak without consequence.”

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ass fucking

(844)-332-2639 ext 398

Think fast! You’re my ride share driver after a long night out getting clubbing and making myself horny. Would you rather get 5 stars or use 3 holes? My favorite kind of drivers know they can get both. I climb into the backseat of your car in a skin tight dress that already makes your cock excited. It’s so short that it rides up my thighs when I sit. You can see my pretty lace thong peaking between my thighs every time my legs shift a little bit. But of course, you wouldn’t take advantage of the situation until I give you no choice.  Continue reading “Milan’s Naughty Ass Fucking in the Backseat”

xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

As a beta male, there is just nothing you can do when he comes for what he wants. That lack of confidence and ability to tolerate confrontation is the reason he has my wrists tied over my head with me seated between his long legs. He stormed into the house and simply said he was going to show you what we’d been doing behind your back.

A small glimmer inside of me hoped you would stand up for our relationship and tell him no. I wanted you to get mad and stake your claim on me. Hoping you would tell him I’m your girl and that he couldn’t have me, but you didn’t.

Continue reading “Your Girl But His Slut”