Tag: phonesex

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.”

Continue reading ““Speak when I say.”” →

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” →

Pamper Fucked

Posted 1 week ago by Amber

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Mikey struggle with the tabs on his extra thick pamper. “You’re doing it too tight again,” I teased, sliding off the duvet to help him. Mikey looked up, just in time for me to see his cheeks flushing pink. “I just want it to stay put, Amber. We don’t want a repeat of the accident I had at the grocery store last week.”

I reached out, taking the tabs from his clumsy hands. Once his diaper was secured with a satisfying crinkle-snap, I stood back to inspect my handiwork. “Perfect,” I whispered, ruffling his hair.

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

I just discovered a new obsession with macrame. So when I saw a macrame plant hanger class, I had to sign up. I imagined a group of older ladies. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Most of the people taking the class were in their twenties and thirties, including a few guys.There was a handful of women in their forties and fifties. But the biggest shocker of all was the teacher. I assumed a macrame plant hanger class would be taught by an older hippie woman. That’s what I get for assuming. The teacher looked like one of those male models on the cover of a romance novel. You know the type. Tall, tanned, and muscular with long sunbleached golden hair blowing in the wind. Well, in this case it was getting blown by the fan. But you know what I mean.

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I had spent the afternoon lounging among the mountain peaks, plucking clouds like tufts of cotton, until the tiny, frantic motions of a particularly spirited little man caught my roving eye. He looked like a teeny, tiny spec scurrying across a dinner plate. His frantic gestures only served to heighten my amusement as I reached down with fingers the size of redwood trunks to pluck him from his futile sanctuary.

Cupping my hands around him, I brought him closer to my face. My breath was like a gale-force wind that sent his hair whipping wildly. I couldn’t help but let out a soft, throaty chuckle at the sheer absurdity of his plight. He looked so insignificantly precious, knowing full well that he was entirely at the mercy of my whims.

Continue reading “Eating A Teeny, Tiny Man” →

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I stepped out of the alleyway, with my heels clicking against the concrete. It sounded almost like a siren song for the broken. I wasn’t looking for conversation, I was looking for the magnetic pull of a submissive spirit. You can smell them, really. There’s a specific scent to a man who is tired of his own self-governance. It’s a faint, metallic tang of repressed desperation.

I spotted what appeared to be a perfect specimen near the corner of 4th Street. He standing under the flickering orange glow of a streetlight. Tall, well-dressed in a suit that looked slightly too heavy for his frame, and was clutching a briefcase like a shield. He was trembling, though there was no breeze to speak of. As I approached, I didn’t bother with the softness of a smile. I let my presence be the only thing that mattered.

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Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I recently met a guy named Mark at the local amusement park. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and entirely too tense. He was trying his best to chat me up in line, but as soon as we were suspended at the top of the roller coaster, he became strangely quiet. “You’re trembling, Mark,” I murmured, slightly amused by how timid he suddenly appeared. He swallowed hard. “It’s just…it’s a long drop, Amber.”

“Is it?” I turned my head slowly, looking him in the eye entirely unbothered. “Look at me.” He hesitated, then slowly turned his head. His eyes were wide and darting from side to side, probably looking for the type of reassurance that I wasn’t going to provide. My fingers traced the line of his jaw before settling firmly on his chin. I didn’t pull him close, I just held his head in place, forcing him to keep his gaze locked with mine.

Continue reading “Finger fucked on the roller coaster” →