Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’ve pretty much always possessed an insatiable, almost legendary, craving for the most magnificent, oversized cocks I could find. It started during a summer trip to a local  beach, where I first laid eyes on a row of men sunning themselves in tight banana hammocks that left little to the imaginations. The sheer scale of their dicks was mesmerizing and I found myself unable to look away!

I meticulously inspected each one, then chose my favorite specimen. That cock was unbelievably succulent and firm, and there was something undeniably thrilling about handling a cock that felt so heavy in my grip. I’ll admit, I took my time with it and didn’t rush through the process because that cock was just too incredible to ignore.

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Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449  

The afternoon sun beat down on the crowded city park, and all my attention was focused on the few inches of shared space on our picnic blanket. Around us, distractions abounded; a group playing volleyball, dogs chasing frisbees. To anyone passing by, we were just two friends enjoying a lazy Sunday.

No one saw the way your bare knee was pressed firmly against mine; an unyielding point of contact that sent my groin throbbing.

You shifted closer, leaning back on one elbow under the shade of a massive tree. The movement caused your sunglasses to slide down the bridge of your nose, exposing intense eyes that locked onto mine. “It’s beautiful out here,” you murmured. Voice low enough that it was almost swallowed by the ambient chatter.

Your hand was doing the real talking.

With agonizing slowness, your fingers trailed up my calf, tracing along the edge of my clothes. My breath hitched, quiet intake that I forced myself to mask by taking a slow sip of my drink. The sheer thrill of the surrounding crowd made my skin prickle with electricity.

Continue reading “Playing In The Park”

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I stood at the kitchen window, watching my husband, Arthur, shuffle across the yard to tend to his prized roses. There was a time when his steady, predictable nature felt like a sanctuary, but lately, that stillness had begun to feel more like a cage. I regularly found myself longing for more. And thankfully, I found it in a much younger man. Our gardener, Juan.

It wasn’t that I sought to destroy what I had built with Arthur, but rather that I felt a desperate need to reclaim a part of myself that had been suppressed by the weight of age and expectation. When I met Juan, his youthfulness was like a mirror reflecting a version of me that hadn’t yet surrendered to the routine of growing old.

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Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449 

The kitchen was entirely too hot. The air was thick with the rich aroma of roasting garlic and a wine reduction. A single bead of sweat traced a slow, agonizing path down the valley of my collarbone, trapped beneath the linen of my apron. I stood at the island rolling out pasta dough, my forearms aching from the effort. Then, a pair of hands slid around my waist.

I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. His chest pressed flush against my back, his body heat radiating through our thin clothing. He leaned over my shoulder; his breath a warm, spiced breeze against my neck that made my breath catch in my throat.

“You’re rushing the dough, dear,” he murmured, his voice was low against my ear.

Before I could reply, his flour-dusted hands covered mine on the rolling pin. He didn’t take over; instead, he guided my movements, forcing a slow and deliberate rhythm that felt entirely too intimate for a kitchen counter. With every forward lean, his hips pressed into mine, an explicit promise disguised as a culinary lesson.

“See?” he whispered, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just beneath my ear. “Patience makes everything sweeter.”

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

My friend decided that she wanted to go all out for her bachelorette party. She wanted to turn it into a girls’ weekend retreat. Her way of looking at it was that this was going to be her last girls’ trip while single. So she wanted to make the most of it. Even though I had so much going on, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And I was so excited for some much needed rest and relaxation. She had lots of fun stuff planned for us. Wine tasting, massages, pole dancing lessons, clay body masks, and more. She even rented a limo, hired a driver, and a tour guide. And she also rented out an entire bed and breakfast for us. It was absolutely stunning. There were brilliant flowering vines billowing over the balconies and framing the breathtaking water fountain. Everything was so perfect. The only thing that seemed a little bit off was the bed and breakfast owner’s husband. There was just something really perverted about him. But we didn’t have time to worry about him. Because it was time for us to go to our pole dancing lesson.

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Phonesex with Felicity 1844-332-2639 x270

This body was built for breeding, and I’m begging you to gift me with your seed. I want you to plant a baby in my womb and spoil me while we watch it take root and grow. Fucking a baby into me is only part of the fun.

You have no idea how horny I get when I’m carrying a baby. I’ll need your cock at all hours of the day and night. Some soon-to-be mommies crave weird combinations of foods, but as for me. I just hunger for more of your cum.

Continue reading “Put A Baby In Me”

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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Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449 

A few months ago, I attended my friend’s wedding. The ceremony was wonderfully simple, and surprisingly quick. The reception, however, was anything but. Course after course, with speeches in between each one. So many toasts, I needed my glass refilled three times. I really hadn’t been expecting to be sitting this long. No matter how I fidgeted in my seat, I couldn’t find a comfortable position. Every few seconds, a sharp, insistent cramp radiated from deep inside; a frantic reminder that I had ignored my body’s signals for far too long during the endless rounds of toasts and boring speeches.

My bladder felt like heavy weight was pressing on it, stretching it to it’s absolute limit. When a pair of strong hands settled on my waist, I let out a small, involuntary whimper.

“Hiding, darling?” My date’s voice was low against my ear. He pulled me against him, and I could feel his warmth radiating off of him.

“Please don’t,” I gasped out, squeezing my thighs together desperately. The movement of his hands sent a fresh wave of pressure through me, making my muscles twitch with the desperate effort to hold back the tide. “I… I need to go, so … “

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Permission

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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Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449 

The rain lashed against the windows of the hotel room, fracturing the city lights into a smattering constellation of refracted lights. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of cedarwood and the tension that had been building between us for months.

I leaned lightly against the built-in desk, my pulse hammering in my throat. My son’s teacher didn’t move; he simply watched me, his gaze heavy and dark. His eyes tracing the way my breath hitched.

“You’re trembling,” he noted, his voice a low, gravelly hum that vibrated right through me.

“It’s cold,” I lied, shifting away from the desk.

He rose then, moving with a predatory grace that made the room feel suddenly too small. When he stopped, he was inches away. Close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off his body. He reached out, his thumb grazing the hollow of my throat, before sliding upward to tilt my head back.

“I don’t think it’s the cold,” Making eye contact, he murmured before leaning down until his lips brushed against the shell of my ear.

I gasped as his other hand found the small of my back, pulling me flush against him. The contact was electrifying

Continue reading “At The Hotel With My Son’s Teacher”