Aynsley 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 459

Holy fuck I missed this job. Being a phone sex operator is no joke, and it takes skill, seduction, and a whole lot of dirty talk. But hey, that’s exactly why I’m here, isn’t it? Aren’t you glad I’m back?

After a couple of months abroad, I’m back and raring to go, ready to unleash my inner seductress once more. As I slip into my comfiest, most provocative loungewear, I can already feel the familiar heat of anticipation building within me. It’s like my body is saying, “Alright, Aynsley, let’s get this sexy party started!”

I settle into my cozy little lair, the one adorned with plush throw pillows, soft candlelight, and the faint scent of lavender, all designed to set the mood for the torrid tales I’m about to weave. I fire up the old reliable headset and let my fingers dance across the keyboard, typing out greetings and teasing opening lines for the eager clients who’ll soon be on the other end.

Continue reading “I’m Baaackkk!”

cbt

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. Puppet, a man I barely knew, was insisting I watch him as he pleasured himself. The audacity! I had only met him a few days prior at a mutual friend’s dinner party. But there he was, undressing in front of me, his lustful eyes pleading for me to stay.

“What’s gotten into you, Puppet?” I asked, trying to sound firm despite the nervous flutter in my chest. “We just met. This isn’t appropriate.” But he was relentless. “Just this once, Stella. I promise I won’t ask again,” he whispered, his hands already working to free his erection. “Please, I need to cum. My wife will be home any minute and…and I can’t help myself.”

Continue reading “CBT With Puppet”

Rent’s Due!

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

I squirmed beneath Mitchell’s looming figure, the absurdity of the situation only heightening the searing heat pooling between my thighs. My rent was overdue, and now he stood over me, his rugged features twisted into a snarl of displeasure. A spark of apprehension and raw, primal excitement raced through me as I realized he intended to collect the debt in the most carnal of ways.

“Get on your knees,” Mitchell growled, his roughened tone sending shivers down my spine.

As I complied, his calloused hand grasped the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. The thick bulge of his arousal pressed insistently against my cheek, an unspoken demand. I parted my lips, and he ruthlessly shoved himself past them, the head of his cock nudging the back of my throat.

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family fun

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Jorge was an older gentleman, well into his twilight years, with a certain gravelly charm that always preceded the unexpected. Our conversations, though infrequent, consistently veered into territory most people would never even acknowledge, let alone openly discuss. When he stated that he has a “relationship” with his mother, it wasn’t simply a matter of familial affection or even the typical complexities that often tie adults to their aging parents.

No, the truth, as Jorge once laid out in a matter-of-fact tone, was that their bond had long transcended conventional boundaries. Jorge, as it turns out, liked to fuck his mother. It was a consensual arrangement, he emphasized, a shared intimacy that, while undeniably taboo for all the obvious societal and biological reasons, formed an undeniable, secret world known only to a precious few, myself included.

Continue reading “Jorge Has A Secret Girlfriend”

cuckold

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I have a type. Specifically, I have two types. There’s Type A: The distinguished gentleman, preferably with a full head of silver hair, a penchant for single malt scotch, and a portfolio that could rival a small nation’s GDP. These men are wonderful conversationalists, masters of the five-star reservation, and possess a certain gravitas that only comes with decades of accrued wisdom (and even more accrued wealth). They also, almost without exception, have the libido of a particularly sluggish snail.

Then there’s Type B: The strapping twenty-something, all rippling abs, boundless energy, and an unshakeable belief that life is one long montage from a sports drink commercial. These men are less interested in discussing the nuances of global economics and more interested in, well, nuances. And by nuances, I mean anything that involves their cock.

Continue reading “Richard, The Silver Haired Cuck”

glory hole blog

Jamie 1-844-332-2639 ext 461

“You won’t believe the night I had, Jamie,” Randy’s voice crackled, already a little hoarse, buzzing with the afterglow of his nocturnal adventures. He was a creature of the shadows, and his stories were stained with the same grime. I sat at my kitchen table, the half-eaten remains of a microwave meal cooling in front of me. Randy, on the other hand, was sitting in his car, still slick with the memory of anonymous mouths and urgent hands.

“Got a new spot,” he continued, excitedly. “Back of the old cinema, you know the one? Dark. Perfect. There was this big guy, hairy hands. Didn’t even say a word, just went for it.” He launched into the details, the hot breath, the rough stubble, the frantic rhythm against the plywood partition. He painted the scene with such visceral honesty, I could almost smell the stale sex and the cheap cleaner.

Continue reading ““You won’t believe the night I had, Jamie””

Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

“I love pussy hair Julie. It’s such a turn on. I love how it looks, how it feels, how it smells, how it tastes. It’s an addiction, a fetish. I just can’t get enough. But the problem is that these days so many women wax or shave their pussy hair. Or they get permanent hair removal. I don’t understand it. I know. To each their own. But I just don’t get this modern trend. I would love to go back to the seventies. Everyone had big, thick, musky bushes. I miss those good old days.” He confessed.

So I decided to give him what he had been needing and longing for. He told me that he hadn’t been able to enjoy pussy hair in so many years. His wife had gotten permanent hair removal several years ago, even though he had asked her not to. And his mistress gets waxed regularly. She wasn’t open to allowing it to grow out either. The poor guy just wanted to bury his face in a bush. I had a plan. I was going to grow some out for him. But it was going to be a surprise. So I didn’t tell him.

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extra-terrestrial blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

They say the oldest profession adapts to anything. Mon Dieu, they were not wrong. Here I am, French as a baguette, running my little ’boutique sensuelle’ on Rue St. Dennis in beautiful Montreal (sweet bebe, you thought I was Parisienne French, didn’t you?). The clients? Well, that’s where it gets…interesting. You see, most of them aren’t human. They’re not even from planet earth.

Take tonight. My appointment, a Xylorian (pronounced “Sy-lor-ee-anne”) named Gleep, looked like a particularly disgruntled pile of amethyst-colored jello. Four eye-stalks, all twitching. He’s from a species that primarily communicates via bioluminescent mucus, which, let me tell you, makes for some truly messy pillow talk. And the smell! Like fermented algae and existential dread, even with the station’s advanced atmospheric scrubbers. But, c’est la vie, Gleep pays in rare crystals, which are currently trending on the galactic market. He also (naturally) leave quite the trail of slime after he cums.

Continue reading ““the oldest profession adapts to anything””

sexy stepmom

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

My new husband was away on business, so it was just his son Johnny and I in the house for the next 2 weeks. I was looking for something to do, something that would help us feel closer, when it dawned on me. I should teach him how to sexually please a woman! So, I went to my bedroom and put on the sexiest pair of red lace panties and a matching bra, and then added a sheer red robe and black stripper heels. I put my hair up in a messy bun, as I didn’t want to tangle it. This could get wild.

Johnny gulped as I made my way down the stairs. He had been playing video games and was not expecting me to appear in such an outfit. I sat in front of him, on the coffee table, blocking his view of the television. Johnny sat up, looking me up and down as I crossed my legs. “You like what you see, Johnny?” I asked, looking him in the eye. He nodded eagerly as I slipped off my robe, revealing my lacy red bra. I could see the outline of his hard dick

Continue reading “Teaching My Stepson Johnny How To Please Me”

voyeur ********* play story

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

“Jackson, you’ve been a very bad boy…” I purred into the microphone, my voice a low, seductive whisper. Jackson’s eyes darted around the room, searching for the source of my voice. He knew I was watching, but he didn’t know how. I could see the panic in his eyes. The fear of being caught! What a fantastic way to keep him in line, I thought to myself. No one likes a confident sub!

“On your knees, Jackson,” I commanded. He hesitated for a moment before looking towards the door where his wife was busy in the kitchen. “Now,” I added, my tone leaving no room for argument. He dropped to his knees, as his heart pounded in his chest. I could see it, the way his shirt moved with each beat, the way his breath hitched in his throat. I watched as he reached for his belt, his hands shaking as he undid the buckle.

Continue reading ““You’ve Been a Very Bad Boy, Jackson””