Tag: phonesex

Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

“Dr. Julie, what should I do?” Those words just kept playing over and over again, through my head. We had fallen hard for each other. I had known each him for quite some time. But after his wife broke his heart, one thing led to another. And our professional relationship crossed the line. I was in deep. He had invited me to a luxury beachfront resort for the weekend. I couldn’t believe that he had gotten us a private cabana! We were having the most amazing evening. Dinner at the rooftop restaurant was so romantic. Then we took a quick dip in the private pool. We had to quickly retreat back into our cabana and our personal hot tub because of his raging boner. And before I knew it, the hot tub jets were sending me into complete ecstasy. That’s when all of a sudden, he asked if we could talk about his fetish. I had completely forgotten about his fetish! It’s as if my brain was on rewind and I saw it all over again. Our whirlwind romance had clouded my mind with too much dopamine. But he had indeed mentioned a fetish.

Continue reading ““Dr. Julie, What Should I do?” Part 4″ →

Casual Kevin

Posted 1 month ago by Cory

cheating blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Kevin and I, we’d been “casual” for a few weeks, which in the real world meant “hooking up whenever his girlfriend, Honey, was out of town or at her pottery class.” My apartment was literally next door, so the commute was minimal, the discretion even less so. We both knew it was a terrible idea, but his charm was a potent, morally bankrupt force, and my willpower was…well, let’s just say it was on sabbatical.

This particular Tuesday, Honey was supposedly at a weekend-long retreat for artisanal candle makers. Kevin, ever the opportunist, had texted me at 10 AM. By 10:30, I was letting myself into his place, the familiar scent of his expensive coffee and my own impending bad decisions hanging in the air. We’d started in the kitchen, migrated to the sofa, and eventually, in a moment of utter, ill-advised passion, found ourselves butt naked, fucking on the bathroom floor.

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Under-the-Desk Toe Sucker

Goddess Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

I tapped the ball of my left shoe impatiently into my under-the-desk toe suckers’ crotch. The soft surface was stiffening with every anxious tap. My legs were crossed, and my right high heel was dangling from my toes just in front of his face. I knew he could feel my anxiety; that’s why he is here. To destress me when work makes me want to pull my hair out.

“For fucks sake.” I huffed as my email pinged, and the reply I’d been waiting on was being taken in a different direction than it needed to go. “How stupid can you be?” I asked my screen and felt my under-the-desk toe suckers’ hands grip my right ankle. He slipped off my shoe and kissed the bottoms of my nylon toes. The slight tickle pulled me back into my seat, and I closed my eyes.

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anal

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I had been hired to take over the management of a failing company, and the first person on the chopping block was Chris. He had only been there for a few weeks, but wow, he was bad at his job! I called him into my office, and he stood there nervously as I told him he was on thin ice. But then, I had a change of heart. Perhaps I could fix him.

“Chris,” I began, “I’m going to give you one chance to keep your job.” He looked at me with wide eyes, hopeful that I wasn’t going to fire him. “I want to stay here,” he said, “I like my job and all. What do you need me to do to make things right?” I leaned back in my chair with a smirk playing on my lips. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” he promised. Famous last words, I thought to myself.

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giantess

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

They say I’m an Amazon, a Giantess, and they’re not wrong. At six-foot-seven, I literally tower over most people in our world, especially the ‘Littles’ like my Dad. He’s not just short; he’s perfectly proportioned, just small. Like a doll-sized person. And in our world, women like me? We run the show. We always have.

I was supposed to be packing for university, dreaming of dorm life and lecture halls. But Dad was panicking. “Who’ll help me reach the top shelf, darling? Or drive me to the market? Or even get me up onto my bed?” He meant it. He really can’t manage those things alone. His little hands struggle with the steering wheel, and a standard bed frame is like a mountain. So, he made me an offer: stay home, and I’d be in charge. The house, the finances, everything. For an allowance, of course. A sizeable one. That clinched it. College could wait.

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The Bad Doctor

Posted 2 months ago by Diana

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

I’m not proud of what happened, but desperate times call for desperate measures. My expensive insurance won’t cover the medication I so desperately need. The doctor’s harsh words still echo in my mind: “Sorry, Diana, but that medication is out of your network.” As I gripped the armrests of his plush office chair, tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Without that medicine, my chronic condition would worsen, leaving me debilitated.

That’s when Dr. Thompson leaned in, his voice husky with a promise. “If you let me take care of you in a more…personal way, I’ll provide you with the medication for free.” My heart pounded as I processed his proposal. Could I really resort to such a transactional agreement? But the desperate woman in me knew I had no choice.

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sph

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

My phone buzzed, displaying a name I’d purged from my active memory: Max. We used to date, for a brief, almost embarrassing, period. That was, until I discovered just how minuscule his dick actually is. We’re talking the size of a chapstick tube, maybe even a used one at that. Our relationship, if you could even call it that, ended abruptly after I realized my needs were just going to gather dust, indefinitely.

His voice on the other end was a pathetic, wavering mess. He started apologizing, rambling about how he’d messed up, how he missed me, how he’d changed. He even dared to beg me to take him back. My mind, however, was already back in my apartment, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I’d actually have to fake it again. The answer was a definitive, resounding no. I can’t date a guy who is utterly incapable of satisfying me! And what did he mean by “changed”? Did he have a donor cock surgically attached to his tiny little weiner?

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Tinkering Trio

Francie 1844-332-2639 xXx 208

My step-dad is having his weekly poker night in his tinkering room. He builds all kinds of weird things in there. He’s been begging me to hang out with him in there so we could bond, but I don’t care about all the weird science things he messes with. Mom is gone for the weekend, and I can hear his ***** friends laughing and joking as they play their stupid card game.

All of a sudden, the power throughout the whole house flickers and goes out. At the same time, the noise from the tinkering room goes silent. After a few seconds, I hear the backup generator roar to life, and a few lights come back on. When the sounds of grown men playing their games don’t start back up, I wander down the hall to find out what happened.

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abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I remember the first time I truly embraced my role as an ABDL Mama. It wasn’t some grand revelation under a disco ball, it was more like a slow, creeping realization. Things began innocently enough, with a few playful indulgences. But before I knew it, my linen closet was less about sheets and more about industrial-sized diaper bundles. And my mornings routinely kicked off with a debate over whether the “baby” preferred his pureed squash or a somewhat lumpy oatmeal.

The alarm clock wasn’t just ringing anymore; it was practically a lullaby for grown men in footie pajamas, and I frequently found myself trying to decipher complex grunts and gurgles. To anyone else, they would sound like a malfunctioning plumbing system but, to me, they were clearly demands for more juice. My grocery runs became legendary. Gone were the days of buying kale and quinoa! My trips to the grocery store are more about a veritable convoy of baby wipes, oversized onesies, and enough powdered formula to feed a small army. An army that, conveniently, always needed a nap after consuming said formula.

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slut

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I’ve always had a reputation for being a bit of a free spirit. I was born in Quebec, and maybe that’s where my love for adventure comes from. We all know the Quebecois are fond of adventures! I’ve never been afraid to explore my desires, and that’s exactly what brought me to this small, romantic town on the coast of Italy last week. I’d been wandering the winding streets, taking in the sights and sounds, when I stumbled upon a quaint little cafe. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries wafted through the air, and I couldn’t resist stepping inside.

As I entered, I noticed a handsome man sitting alone at a table near the window. His eyes met mine, and I felt a spark ignite within me. He smiled, and I found myself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I approached him, my hips swaying seductively as I walked. “Mind if I join you?” I asked, my French accent on full display. He grinned and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Please, do,” he said, gesturing to the empty chair across from him.

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