Category: erotic story

Stephanie 844-332-2639 Ext 454 

We both had enough to drink but nothing seemed to stop us; while snacking he told me about himself, his boat and he made a point about being a show off. “Doing well, extremely well for myself. There is no way I would show off” he spoke clearly, I could tell this was a very sensitive subject for him. 

I slipped over next to him, moved in closer, leaning my head to the side resting it on his shoulder. He raised his arm and wrapped it around me. “You really can handle yourself; you kept up with me and my drinking” I laughed, unable to hide, his compliment pleased me.  

“Ok, I think my time is up here” he said checking his phone. “Oh alright” I said glancing over, finding my short shorts. “Well, you can only dock here for so long, I have to move my boat. I didn’t say you and I were through” he said smiling, approaching me.  

Continue reading “Martinis & Bikinis pt 2” →

domme blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I’m a domme who loves to punish men who drool over me. I don’t like them, I like that they pay me. Today, I’ve got a new client, a man named Jack. He’s a regular caller, but this is our first time talking. I answer the call with a sultry “Oui Bonjour, Jack.” He stammers, “H-hi, Stella.” I can hear the nervousness in his voice, and it makes my pussy tingle. I love the power I have over these men. “So, Jack, tell me, what do you want to talk about today?” I ask, my voice dripping with seduction. He hesitates then says, “I…I want to talk about…you.”

I laugh, a deep, throaty sound. “Oh, Jack, you’re a naughty boy, aren’t you? You want to talk about me? Well, let’s talk about my body, then.” I describe my curves, my small but full breasts, my tight ass, and my wet pussy. I can hear his breathing quicken, and I know he’s touching his cock. They all sound the same when they touch it. I smile, knowing I have him under my control. “Imagine my hands on your dick, Jack.

Continue reading “I like that they pay me” →

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.

Continue reading “A villainess doesn’t beg” →

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.

Continue reading “Your Go-To Girl” →

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.

Continue reading “Pretty Little Candy Girl Part Three” →

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.

Continue reading “Flooring Estimate” →