Category: erotic story

Stand There and Take It, For Me

Mama Felicity 1844-332-2639 Ext 270

“Please, Mama.” He whined as his cock bobbed pathetically. “I can’t take it anymore!” The snivingly bitch wasn’t even crying real tears. My hand swatted out again. Striking the head of his erect penis and sending it flying.

Precum splattered at our feet and over his naked tummy. Thankfully, his arms were tied above his head, or he might do something stupid like try to stroke himself to orgasm. “I’ll slap it as many times as I like. It amuses me. Stand there, and take it for me.”

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xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

Mom already has a little pool tote packed and is waiting on me, but I can’t decide on which bikini I wanna tease you with. We’ve been neighbors for a few years, and you’ve finally invited us to spend the day enjoying your big pool. I know my mom thinks you like her, but obviously, you’d want someone my age. Someone to keep you young!
Jessica, my mom, keeps telling me to hurry up and that being late when the house is right next door is inexcusable. I picked a tiny red bikini a friend left at the house last summer. It’s a little too small for me; it shows way more tits than she would ever allow and rides up my ass like a thong.

I yank on some jean cut-off shorts to cover it and a white button-up blouse. Next, I run into my flip-flops and jog down the stairs, telling her I’m ready. I see her bag and ask what she could need when it’s right next door. Mom’s wearing a sensible black tankini, but her massive tits still threaten to spill over the top. The back is all open, showing her smooth skin, and she has a sheer black wrap skirt around her hips, giving just a hint of her thick thighs as she walks. She looks down in the bag and shrugs. “Towles, sunscreen, clothes to change into if we get cold.”

Continue reading “Shrunken Little Pool Toy” →

ass

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

His deep blue eyes, wide with a mixture of shock and fervent admiration, were locked onto me. A villainess doesn’t beg. She commands. That primal scent, a mix of leather and something else entirely, intensified. His earlier indignation had vanished, replaced by an unmistakable hunger. He was no longer the man about to call the authorities; he was merely a man. A man caught in the web I had so carefully, so deliberately, spun.

I straightened slowly, the motion deliberate, the ripped catsuit revealing just enough, yet leaving the rest to his imagination – or perhaps, his memory. The stiletto heels clicked again as I turned, a slow pivot that allowed the light to glide across the gleaming patent leather, across the exposed curve. I didn’t need to speak. The silence was louder than any words. It was filled with the thrum of his heartbeat, the rapid, shallow breaths he couldn’t quite control.

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Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

I’ve seen you at the club a few times, and the girls always get giddy when they see you walk in. They suspect there is a wealth of cash to be pulled from you, BUT you have a reputation for slipping away before it can get too good. You keep a tight leash on your wallet, but the strippers are always happy to take what they can get either way. 

I am standing just before the exit when I see you scan the room and act as though you’re going to leave. Realizing your go-to girls aren’t milling about the stage area or sitting on laps. The ATM is right by the door, and I lean my body against it. Lengthening out my little core and popping out one hip. I’m wearing black sheer stockings that are bold against the paleness of my thighs; the garter belt holding them up frames a shimmery red pair of cheeky panties, and my bra has lots of straps to catch your eye as they stretch over my cleavage. I’m twirling a lock of strawberry blonde hair around my finger, and I hum when your gaze starts at my heels and SLOWLY devours up the length of my body.

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Stephanie 844-332-2639 Ext 454

Sipping a martini in my pink and white polka dot bikini with short shorts over my bikini bottoms and flip flops, I was enjoying the weather, the people and of course the scenery. It had only been two hours since I arrived at the bar down by the river docks.

The bar faced the river docks and I was on the far end of the bar settled on a leather but cushy bar stool. Boat owners would dock their boats all the time, some blaring music, some full of party animals, some just couples, just a variety. In my entire two hours I watched two different boats dock, stay a bit then take off.

I turned away from the river and hopped on my cell, taking short videos for my social media. Showing off my bikini, the background scenery and the serene mood I was in. I took a photo holding up the peace sign when the bartender approached me and sat a martini down in front of me.

Continue reading “Martinis & Bikinis pt 1” →

Pretty Little Candy Girl Part Three

Trans Goddess Alexus 1844-332-2639 Ext 349

Amber didn’t sniffle or cry as I pushed her into the house—my brave little candy girl. The cabin was a single dusty room with a bathroom off to one side—a small kitchenette tucked under a small window. The twin-size bed had no sheets or pillows. “Get naked.” I barked, which made Amber flinch.

I couldn’t decide if I was happy or annoyed that she wasn’t fighting me more. Adrenaline had built up in my veins, waiting for this moment, and I was buzzing off the possibilities. Her being compliant hadn’t been a situation I considered.

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gooner

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Across the digital ether, I was spending my day with a loser. We all know the type. He wasn’t anything special or out of the ordinary, just your average gooner who’d found my corner of the internet. He paid me for my time, of course. What he bought, primarily, was attention. Curated, commodified attention. Sometimes a few pics—nothing too wild, just enough to keep the illusion alive. But what he really wanted, what he truly craved above all else, were those trigger words.

You know the ones I mean. Those exact phrases, spoken or typed, that would unravel some tightly wound spring inside him. Words that would trigger him to stroke and edge himself stupid, lost in his own private loop of self-abasement and gratification. I, the puppeteer, tugging on invisible strings with carefully chosen syllables. He, the puppet, dancing to a rhythm only he could hear.

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Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

I’d been looking to replace my floors for a while now. The house was remodeled before I moved in, but the guy doing it was cheap, and the floors had taken a beating. They were peeling in places and separating in others, but the cost was out of this world. There was no way I could replace the entire flooring of my house at once. I’d kind of forgotten about the idea and was dealing with the horrible floors until I found out one of my guys worked for a flooring company. Jokingly, I mentioned he could come over and give me a better estimate. I reminded him I’d do anything for a discount! I think he was trying to stay professional because he asked what kind of material I was looking for, and I said something that would clean up easily because I’m known to make a filthy mess.

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Stephanie 844-332-2639 Ext 454

After inviting me over, I didn’t hesitate or think twice. I arrived wearing a short black dress that showed off my thighs, back, and cleavage, which hugged at the waist, complete with basic black sandals. I knocked twice before the door flew open. He stood holding a bottle of wine. “You look real good.” he complimented, stepping back, letting me in. “Thank you.” I was barely inside when he slid next to me, backing me into the living room. He then closed the door and wrapped an arm around me.

“So you’re dressed like you are ready to go somewhere,” I sighed. His lips brushed my neck, and then he started to kiss me. “Oh, I just felt like it.” “I like that,” he said and proceeded to kiss my neck some more. I leaned my head to the side, allowing his kisses. It wasn’t until he slid his hand up my thigh that I realized he was still holding the bottle of wine. I reached for it to help free his other hand when he pulled his arm back.

Continue reading “The Hung Narcotics Dealer pt 1” →

sissy

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It started a few months ago when Violet, my beautiful, curvy sissy, had a little accident in public. She had been holding it in for hours, but the pressure became too much, and she couldn’t help but let go. She called me in a panic, ashamed and embarrassed, and I could hear the tears in her voice. I knew exactly what she needed. I calmly instructed her to go to the nearest public restroom and wait for me.

When I arrived, I saw her standing there, red-faced and trembling, her eyes filled with fear and anticipation. I didn’t waste any time. As punishment, I made her get on her knees, pull up her skirt, and lick my feet clean. The humiliation of the situation sent shivers down her spine, and I could see her body trembling with a mixture of shame and excitement.

Continue reading “Violet had an accident…again” →