Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203 ☏ ☏ ☏ Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403
Naughty Ronnie and Zoey were playing downstairs in the basement. They began to wrestle, when suddenly Ronnie took a tumble into some old boxes. They happened to be shoe boxes, and to their surprise, they found all of Mommy Anna’s old shoes. They were all high heels, as that’s all she ever wore, especially when she was prowling for her next spanking victim.
Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453
It was a scorching hot summer day. Of all days for my air conditioner to go out. It’s not quick to get an A/C repair guy out during the summer in Texas. It usually takes several days since they get so backed up. But luckily, I know someone that owns an air conditioning repair company. Of course he told me that they were very backed up. But he told me that he could have one of his guys come over this evening when he is finished with all of his appointments. I was very grateful and thankful. But I was wondering how I was going to make it through the day. I took a couple of showers to get wet. Then I put on as little clothing as possible. I had on a little thin spaghetti strap tank top and some thin little shorts. It was too hot for a bra or panties. I turned on all the fans. Sucking on popcycles helped too. Finally I heard a knock on the door. It was such a relief. I couldn’t get to the door quickly enough. When I opened it, before me stood a strikingly handsome young man.
Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403
Your cock gets hard and stiff as you watch me rub the oil on my feet. Lubricating my soles and toes and arches. My skin warming up the oil and getting my tooties all slick and slippery for you. You think about my body heat warming up that oil as I spread it over my feet. Then I pour some of the oil on my hands and rub it all over your cock. I feel your cock twitch in my hands as I stroke it up and down. My oiled hands slide easily up and down the shaft of your swollen aching cock.
1844-33-CANDY ext 260
I didn’t want to think it was jail bait cousin , Seth. It couldn’t be!! NO way! But, my intuition is never wrong. No wonder he is always looking at me very lustfully. It makes sense. Every day he is here, trying to somehow be around me, or in the same room as me. I catch him staring at my boobs, and my butt all the time. What a fucker. I had to catch him red-handed. Continue reading “The Dirty Panties Snatcher”
Mama Felicity 1844-332-2639 Ext 270
I have a bit of a naught fascination. Some may even call it a kink, but I love to get boys really, really hard and as I’m stroking them, beg them to potty for me before making cummies. It’s so sexy watching them become nervous and turned on.
I always used to hear that boys couldn’t tinkle if they were hard, but that’s so untrue. Mommy wants to watch that unpredictable stream flooding from your tip before the eruption of cum follows the relief.
MILF Janine 1-844-332-2639 ext 462
He looked absolutely delicious. Young and tasty, just the way I like them. An older woman like me as a deep seated desire to train the up and coming generation. Past generations have reveled in the inherent power of being a man. But with time, us women have discovered our own power, pleasure and desires. Now, it sits on the shoulders of older women like me to train up the younger men moving up through the ranks of masculinity. No longer will the women who come after me have to fake an orgasm. Any man that lands in my bed learns the art of female pleasure. However, I’ve learned, that training them young has far more benefits than trying to retrain older men.
Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457
I used to babysit for the Gallaghers after school. They lived a few doors down. So I would just go straight there from school. Sometimes they would both work late. And they just needed an after school babysitter for a few hours until they got home from work.
I remember one of the very first times. It was a crisp fall day. We were all in the backyard. They wanted to swing, slide and play in the treehouse. After a little while, I went back inside to make them a snack. I took it out to them. Then when I went back inside the house, Mr. Gallagher was standing there. I jumped. It scared me so badly because I wasn’t expecting him home so early.
“I didn’t mean to scare you Rachel”, he smirked.
“Uh, uh Mr. Gallagher”, I stuttered.
“I know you probably weren’t expecting me home yet. But my meeting ended early. I love your school girl uniform. I’ve always had a thing for little school girls, Rachel”, he whispered in a very creepy way.
Francie 1844-332-2639 xXx 208
My heart raced wildly as I sat on my boyfriend’s lap. His hand was stroking my naked thigh as I bit at my nail in anticipation. “What if he doesn’t reply?” He kissed my neck and swept my hair back to let his lips linger down my shoulder.
“He will. Just wait.” His fingers climbed higher up my inner thigh. “You look so fucking hot in that picture. Any man would be instantly hard, seeing you like that. I shifted nervously on his lap. He dared me to take a slutty photo and text it to my Boss with the caption, “My BF dared me to send this. See you at work on Monday!”
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
It’s not a secret, not really. Not to anyone who’s spent more than an hour with me discussing my dating life. My friends just sigh and nod. But it’s true. Unapologetically true. Some people search for a connection, a meeting of minds, a shared love for obscure indie films. All valid, I suppose. For me? I mean, sure, those are nice bonuses. But when it comes down to it, to that primal, magnetic pull, there’s one non-negotiable. I only like big dicks. Huge ones.
And I don’t mean ‘a little above average, nice.’ I mean, fill-you-up, stretch-you-out, leave-no-doubt big. The way it anchors you, the undeniable mass that makes subtle movements feel like seismic shifts. It’s not just about the numbers, though that’s certainly part of the equation. It’s the feeling of being completely, utterly taken. Of every nerve ending singing a roaring symphony, leaving no void, no empty space.
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
They call me Dr. Cory. I prefer just Cory, though. It feels more intimate. My patients, especially the men, seem to appreciate that. They usually walk in here carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders, desperate for a listening ear, a compassionate gaze. What they don’t see, what they could never see, is the coiled viper beneath the serene exterior. A promise I made to myself years ago, after a man, a grown man, shattered my innocence. My revenge, you see, isn’t loud or violent. It’s surgical. Psychological. It’s how I remain in complete control.
Donald was my latest project. He shuffled into my office, a walking bundle of anxiety and vague dissatisfactions. His tie was too tight, his shoulders hunched, his voice a low monotone as he listed his woes: feelings of inadequacy, trouble sleeping, a general sense of being “stuck.” Typical. The moment he sat down, I knew his path. Regression therapy. The ultimate emasculation. We’re talking diapers, pacifier, babbling…the whole shebang. He was the perfect candidate.