wetting in public

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was just minding my own business, while trying to navigate the bustling aisles of the local superstore. Which, let’s be honest, is already a comedic goldmine on any given day. My basket was precariously stacked with various impulse buys when I noticed a dude a few feet ahead of me acting a little…uh…shifty.

He was wearing these beige cargo shorts. In hindsight, they didn’t exactly help camouflage the emerging situation. He kept adjusting his stance, almost like he was doing a subtle, internal dance battle with himself. I initially just thought he had a really itchy butt. Or was perhaps auditioning for a very niche interpretive dance troupe in the cereal aisle. But then I spotted a distinct, darkening patch at the front of his shorts.

Continue reading “Cleanup In Aisle 7”

witches

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Our potent little jar of moon-kissed herbs and dewdrop essence sat between us on the worn oak table. The “magic salve,” as we called it, was a concoction born of generations of hedgewitch wisdom, designed not just to heal the skin, but to awaken the spirit. Beside it, our broomsticks lay ready. Not the bristly kind for sweeping the hearth, mind you, but slender, polished hazel branches, each one unique, chosen and carefully prepared for this very purpose.

With a shared, knowing smile, Kayla and I began the ritual. Dipping the tips of our broomsticks into the shimmering, emerald green salve, we coated them generously. The scent was earthy patchouli, sweet jasmine, and something wilder, like fresh rain on ancient moss. Then, with a slow, deliberate grace, we inserted our broomsticks into our dripping wet pussies, pulling and pushing them in and out of our fuck holes as we moaned with pleasure, ensuring all of the salve

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

“Dr. Julie, Can you help me? I have a confession to make. I’m a married, straight man. But I have a deep, dark secret that I’ve never admitted to anyone before. Not even myself. I’m not sure if it’s a fantasy or a fetish. But I can’t stop thinking about it, no matter how hard I try. I’m so ashamed to admit it, but I fantasize about cock. I dream about what it tastes like, what it would feel like in my mouth, even what it would feel like inside of me. But I love my wife Dr. Julie. I’m so confused. Why do I want to drink cum so badly? The thought of a face, ass, and mouth full of cum turns me on more than anything else. I feel guilty admitting that when I have sex with my wife, I fantasize about cock. What’s wrong with me, Dr. Julie? I feel so flawed. Can you cure me?”

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domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

He was already there, kneeling in the center of the dark space. His back was too straight, his assigned sissy maid uniform too soft, too pink. This submissive, this sissy bitch, was waiting for me. I liked that I could feel his fear, even from across the floor. It was a good scent.

My heels clicked sharp and slow on the cement tiles. I walked a full circle around him, never touching, just watching the subtle way his whole body tensed and trembled. He kept his eyes locked on the floor, afraid to look at his mistress. Bon. Good manners are everything.

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abdl mommy

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Right now, my patience is wearing thin, stretched to its absolute limit by Timmy’s repeated defiance. Though, he pretends not to notice the storm gathering in my eyes. He knows what he did, and I know he knows, which only makes this impending conversation all the more serious. My heart aches for the difficult lesson that is about to unfold. His naughtiness this morning wasn’t a small oversight or an accidental spill; it was a deliberate act of rebellion. And it was a direct challenge to my authority and the rules we’ve so carefully established for his own well-being!

Despite my clear instructions to always tell Mommy when his diaper was getting full, especially after waking up and having his morning bottle, he decided to ignore me entirely. Instead of asking for a change, he chose to play in his messy diaper, leaving a trail of tell-tale smears on his favorite blanket. And, even worse, on the clean, plush carpet by his oversized crib.

Continue reading “Testing Mommy’s Patience”

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

I woke up to the feel of his warm breath on my neck, a gentle nuzzle from G as he stirred beside me.  I turned to face him, my hand drifting down to wrap around the hefty length already rigid and eager beneath the sheets. Oooh! I get to start today with my very favorite: morning blowjobs!

“Ahh, Di,” he groaned, eyes darkening with lust as I began to stroke him slow and steady. “You always know just what I need.”

I smiled, my fingers dancing along the ridges and veins pulsing beneath my touch. G’s cock was a work of art, thick and long with a velvety texture that drove me wild. Last night’s tequila haze still lingered in the back of my mind, but as I took him into my mouth, all rational thought dissipated.

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big dick

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.

Continue reading “Evan Has a Big Dick”

Make Me Moan

Aynsley 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 459

As I lay sprawled across my college bed, I couldn’t stifle the needy whimper that escaped my lips. My boyfriend, Asher, stood before me, his intense gaze flicking between my flushed face and the evidence of my desire between my thighs.

I’d been craving his touch all day, a constant ache deep within my core. Now, with him so close, I wanted nothing more than for him to devour me whole. To lose himself in the slick heat of my pussy, to make me cry out his name until my voice was hoarse.

“Aynsley, you’re dripping,” Asher murmured, his fingers tracing the swollen lips of my aching sex. “I can hardly stand it.” His eyes darkened with lust as he dragged his thumb through my wet folds, circling my clit with deliberate slowness.

I bucked my hips, seeking more of that maddening pressure. “Please, Asher,” I breathed, my hands tangling in his hair. “Make me moan. I need it so bad.”

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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”