Category: fetish phonesex

Little Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

My new friend Brady works at the coffee shop on campus. I’d seen him there and said hi a few times. But then the other day he told me that he thought my braids were cute, and we started talking. He told me that he had just finished his sophomore year in college. But he decided that what he really wanted to do was go to cosmetology school. So that’s what he’s going to do. I’m going to be his test model, and I told him that he can practice on me anytime. But there’s a catch. He also wants me to teach him how to do his own make up. And he wants me to dress him up.

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You'll Never Fuck a Woman Again

Rita 844-33-CANDY Ext 413

I knew what would happen as soon as you pulled down your pants. That embarrassingly small clit peeks out at me, and I burst into laughter. It was obvious you needed to become pussy-free. I mean, why would you want to continue being such a fucking disappointment to every woman you try to sleep with?

Don’t worry, though. Just because you’ll never fuck a woman again, it doesn’t mean you won’t be having lots of sex. Lots of sex where you ARE the woman!

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Dale was a man of quiet competence, held together by starched collars and a stoic demeanor that begged to be dismantled. I didn’t just want his attention, I wanted his surrender. We’d been flirting (well, he had been anyway) for months and he finally broke the stalemate one evening as everyone else was getting ready to leave for the day.

“Still working, Stella?” he asked. His voice sounded a little more vulnerable than usual. “No, actually,” I replied, standing slowly. “I was waiting for you.” He gave me a puzzled look, but I didn’t fill in the gap. Instead, I let the silence stretch until the air between us felt heavy and electric. “I think you’ve been looking for things you aren’t allowed to find, Dale.”

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Just My Finger

Trans Goddess Alexus 1844-332-2639 Ext 349

Mmm, I know you’re nervous. You’ve never been with someone like me. All those confusing thoughts swirl in your head, making it difficult for you just to enjoy the pleasure I can bring you. Are you a faggot if you let me fuck you? Are you gay if you cum in my mouth or only if you swallow my cum?

Stop thinking and watch me suck your cock. From my knees, I look like any other girl you’ve been with. Soft lips, a wet tongue, hungry eyes staring up at you. The only difference is when I slip just a finger into your ass, it’s to open you up for my shecock.

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Tara 1-844-332-2639 ext 323

There is something fun about having the whole house to yourself. No distractions, no noise, and no pressure to be anywhere else. I enjoy those quiet moments because they give me time to relax and enjoy my playful side.

After work, I usually change into something comfortable, make myself a drink, and turn on music that matches my mood. Some nights I dance around the kitchen while making food, and other nights I stay curled up in bed talking on the phone for hours.

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Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449

I sat on the edge of my bed, slowly pulling the first white thigh-high stocking up my leg. The opaque, silky fabric contrasting sharply with the navy blue of my duvet. I adjusted it over my calf, my fingers lingering at the knee; savoring the soft knitted fabric, before guiding the lace band to rest against my upper thigh. The silicone grip squeezing gently against my skin.

I leaned back, lifting my other leg to repeat the ritual. I took my time, appreciating the texture and the way the stark white highlighted every curve of my legs. After tugging the second one this way, and that to get it just right; I stood and took a good look at myself in the full length mirror.

Bright white thigh-high stockings, matching full coverage undies, and a white plunge bra. I looked amazing. It was always nice to take my time and pamper myself a little while dressing up. I ran my hands down my body, adjusting my bra slightly and then down to pat my ass before putting on the black and white dress I was wearing for the evening.

A key turned in the front door lock.

Smiling to myself

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Panty Drawer

Avery 1-844-332-2639 ext. 228

This is the last time I better catch you going into my panty drawer! I knew someone was sneaking into my room, sniffing and them shooting loads in my dirty panties. But I had no idea it was you.

Now that I’ve caught you in my panty drawer there’s no denying it on your part. Especially since I took pictures of you sniffing them when you weren’t looking. I wonder who I should send them to…?

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Permission

Posted on by Cory

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

“What if I don’t want to?” The moment those words left his lips, they shattered the careful dynamic of our session. My gaze became icy and fixed, watching the way he instinctively shrank as his eyes widened in fear. He knew better than to speak without my permission, yet his tongue had proven unruly.

I circled him, savoring the onset of a hunt, with my hands clasped firmly behind my back as I surveyed the pathetic tension radiating from his naked body. When I finally stopped directly in front of him, I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to. I simply tilted my head, looking down at his bowed crown with a mixture of disappointment and calculated authority. “Do you truly think your opinion is something I require, especially when it is offered so carelessly?” I asked, calmly.

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punishment

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Mommy Anna was planning to have her lover over. She careful curated her plan so that Daddy Ron would end up taking Ronnie out somewhere on a day venture, then she planned to sneak her lover in and spend the day with him in her marital bed.

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

He arrived at ten sharp, wearing an expensive suit and a Rolex that could’ve funded a small country. He smiled in a fake and predacious way when he saw me. “Stella,” he said, “I hear you’re an experience worth every penny.” He placed his leather briefcase on the mahogany desk and opened it, revealing a thick envelope full of cash, a stack of credit cards, and a signed contract. The initial request was that he wanted a session, but I wanted his ego. He just didn’t know it yet.

“Take a seat,” I said, gesturing to the leather chair across from me. The leather squeaked as he obliged, as his posture already flattened under his own weight. I let him linger a moment, watching his eyes dart to the sleek Manhattan skyline through the floor‑to‑ceiling windows. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize that he thought he owned everything that lay beyond that glass.

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