gooner

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was on the laptop in lingerie, as usual. Today’s appointment had just logged on. He wasn’t anything special, not like some of the others who tried to project an air of mystery or charm. This one was just average. Beige. The kind of man you’d pass on the street and forget instantly. He called himself “Braveheart’ in the chat, which felt ironic given how timid his actual keystrokes felt. He wasn’t a high roller, but consistent. Enough to make the time worthwhile. He didn’t want much in terms of conversation, and the pictures he requested were merely a precursor, an hors d’oeuvre to the real meal.

What he truly craved, what he paid for, were the words. Not just any words, but those specific phrases, strung together just so, meticulously crafted and delivered with a precise cadence. The ones that unlocked something in him, a sort of mental key turning in a lock. “Get worse, loser.” I’d type them out because I didn’t need to see his face to know what was happening on his end. The slight delays in his replies,

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Over The Edge

Over The Edge

Trans Goddess Alexus 1844-332-2639 Ext 349

I instructed you to strip naked and lie on your back with your head hanging over the edge. Your whole body trembled as you removed your clothes and dropped them on the dingy hotel floor. This was your first time with a cock. You wanted it to be with a transwoman so that you could feel less gay about your desires.

I’m sure you expected to arrive at the hotel room and be in charge. Thinking since you’re paying for the experience, you would get to decide how it all goes down. But that isn’t the case. I’m not going to let you just get on your knees and give me some hesitant, dry blow job while you cum in your pants. No, Sir. I’m going to take your mouth over the edge.

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Fall For Francie xXx 844-332-2639 xXx 208

Honestly, it’s fucking pathetic. You motion for me to sit on your lap and whisper foul things in your ear. With every degrading, humiliating word that spills from my pretty pouted lips, your dumb dick gets harder and harder. Oh, does the addicted loser wanna touch it? Rub it? It isn’t like it’s big enough for you to actually stroke it.

Handsex is the only kind of sex you’ll ever get, so I hope you’re good and used to it. It’s drizzle some lube over your pencil-thin nub and get to work. The longer you edge, the more money I make.

Continue reading “Handsex Is All You Get”