(844)-332-2639 ext 398
You ever wish you could get your rocks off on demand, and have a meal waiting for you after you cum. You totally can with this one simple lifehack: order delivery and then answer the door naked! It always works for me. Sometimes my toys get boring and I start craving cock and a side of fries and in this modern age there are so many apps that can get me what I need in 30 minutes or less.
Continue reading “Delivering a Tongue Fucking and a Side of Fries”
Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453
It started out like any other typical Temptation Tuesday. But then I suddenly remembered! I forgot to order a cake for my nephew’s celebration. He’s graduating from middle school. This is a very important milestone. I’m very proud of him. And I was not about to let him down. So as soon I got off work, I ran my little ass over to Costco as quickly as I could. I made my way over to the bakery and there was a line of people waiting. They were waiting to pick up the cakes they HAD remembered to order. I got in line to wait for my turn to ask if there was any way they could write on one of their premade cakes. As I approached the front of the line, my heart began to race. I was so nervous. They had to say yes. My nephew specifically requested a Costco cake. It’s his favorite.
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
I suppose it started as a small, harmless obsession. But, after many years of adding to it, my panty collection now spans every hue and fabric known to man (or even sissy lol). We’re talking neon pinks, gorgeous greens, deep indigos, and scandalous scarlets! All of which make me feel like I’m starring in my own noir film. Cotton is perfectly comfortable I’m sure, but it lacks the decadent glide that silk offers when it first touches my skin.
People talk about “finding your passion” and while some choose stamp collecting or marathons, I’ve decided that curating a drawer full of silky, vibrant panties is a far more rewarding pursuit for a woman like me. Every purchase is a mission that I greatly enjoy. I love spending the day roaming the mall with an iced coffee, while hunting down the perfect pair of emerald bikini cut briefs or finding a rare, dusty rose thong that feels just right. It’s a quest that I take very (VERY) seriously.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
Victor was the golden boy of the firm, wearing perfectly tailored suits, a charming, self-assured smile, and a professional mask that I itched to dismantle. Our flirting had become a ritual of microscopic transgressions. A lingering touch when I handed him a file, a double-entendre whispered during a budget meeting, the way he would lean in just a fraction too close, and how his pupils would dilate when I caught his eye. He thought he was the hunter, but he had no idea he was walking straight into a web.
Last Friday, I finally dropped the bait. I left a small, cream-colored envelope on his desk with nothing but my home address, a time (9:00 PM) and a lipstick print in my signature shade of red. He had commented on it the week before, saying it was “Beautiful,” so I knew he would recognize that the note was from me.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
I was walking through the park when I saw him. He was leaning against a black iron lamp post, looking like he’d been dragged out of a noir film. Trench coat, brooding features, and eyes like shards of obsidian. As I moved past him, he tracked me with his gaze. “You’re going to get soaked,” he said. “I like the rain,” I replied, slowing my pace.
“So do I,” he said with a smirk. The first drop hit, then a dozen more, followed by a sudden, heavy downpour. We both retreated into an empty alcove just as the downpour turned torrential. He gave me a cheeky grin, but wasted no time. When he kissed me, it wasn’t gentle. It was more like a collision of teeth and heat that tasted like impending ruin. His hands found my waist, pulling me so hard against him that I felt the solid line of his cock hardening through his pants.
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
The moment he stepped across the threshold of my apartment, his gaze fixed firmly on the floorboards as if they held the secrets to his inevitable surrender. I sat reclined in my leather chair, watching him with a calculated stillness that seemed to draw the breath right out of his lungs. It’s always fun, being hired to ruin a powerful man. I knew full well that he craved the structure I provided more than he craved his own autonomy.
His movements were awkward and hesitant, like a silent plea for acknowledgement written across his flushed features. I tapped my fingers against the arm of my chair and demanded he look me in the eye. As his chin slowly tilted upward, I saw the raw, exposed vulnerability that flickered behind his tired eyes. He was mine in every sense of the word. A polished instrument of devotion that required my constant, firm guidance to function at peace.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
I don’t even look up from my laptop as I hear the hesitation in his footsteps. I know exactly the type of man who is standing on the other side of my mahogany door. It’s a man of stature, probably a CEO or a surgeon. Someone who spends his days forcing the world to bend to his will. Here; however, he is anything but.
“Come in,” I say, calmly. His posture is already collapsing into the familiar slouch of a man desperate to be relieved of his own authority. He is shaking, just slightly. I love that tremor. It’s the sound of a man discovering that the weight of the world is too heavy and he’s finally found someone who can crush him under it. And, boy, do I love crushing a man.
xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208
You can’t call me because “she’s” there. It’s an excuse I’m growing tired of. When we’re together, you claim I know you better than her. That I give you the things she’d never even think to give you. You’ve said I take you places she’s too afraid to explore. Wifey-poo is terribly selfish and never thinks of your feelings, and yet…
Yet you refuse to leave her. Why do you stay when it’s clear she’ll never be me? Your lazy, uncouth wife will never come close to making you as happy and satisfied as I do. The choice is yours; after all, I’d never force you into something you didn’t want to do, but the longer you stay in your sad, little comfort zone, the better the chance is of you losing me.
(844)-332-2639 ext 398
Working all day long, you deserve a good cock swallowing. Your day is so stressful. You need a warm mouth that can melt away all the stress at night. I have one waiting for you right here.
I’ve been craving the taste of you all day. I’m already on my knees, ready for my meal when you come home. I got addicted to the salty taste of man milk, and you’re my favorite supplier. My mouth waters when I imagine your legs spread in front of me and that throbbing cock standing at attention in my face. The feminine desire to worship your power is overwhelming. Every swollen, sensitive inch deserves to be tickled and tasted.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
“Amber,” Kevin had whispered. His hands trembled as he knelt on my bistro rug. “I’ll do anything you want. I’ll quit my job, I’ll learn to braid your hair, I’ll even stop complaining about the thermostat.” I simply stared at him, with a deep, existential exhaustion. Kevin was a lovely guy. He was a “picker-upper” of dropped grocery bags and a “text-you-back-in-thirty-seconds” kind of soul. But he was also essentially the guy who looked to me for validation every time he successfully navigated a social interaction.
My dating life had become a parade of men who treated me like a fragile porcelain doll placed on a mantle. They were terrified of upsetting me, terrified of taking the lead, and frankly, terrified of the very thing that made a woman’s pulse actually race. Last week, a beta named Marcus had tried to “ask for consent” to hold my hand while we were mid-kiss. My response was to ask if he wanted me to fill out a consent form. He left, feeling insulted. lol