Category: oral

Kara 1-844-332-2639 ext 306

Who doesn’t love hot chocolate? I’m talking about the finest chocolate one could have. My golden brown skin, 5’6” petite frame, legs perfect for wrapping around your waist. Not to mention the most perfect perky tits a man would want. They complement my pretty face oh so well. This hot chocolate needs some special cream to add more flavor. The kind of cream only produced from that hard, thick, veiny cock that belongs to you. Once you get a taste of my hot chocolate, the sweetest chocolate treat, your cock will harden instantly. Your fat, thick head will swell and you will want to bury every inch of yourself deep inside my warm, wet love cave.

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Kara 1-844-332-2639 ext 306

Let me tell you about my caramel cream pie lover. He loved filling me with his load. The night we met, I could feel his eyes drinking in every inch of my hot, young, caramel-toned body. My movements were slow and deliberate as I strutted from the bar past him to an empty table near the corner of the crowded club.  The lights were dim, and the music was blaring sensual tunes that stirred the imagination.  My long-toned legs crossed as I made myself comfortable, rocking softly as the tall, handsome stranger grew nearer. His voice was low and deep as he leaned down to speak, “Is this seat taken?”
He pointed to the empty chair beside me.  I flashed a flirty smile as I extended my hand towards the chair, “It is now. Join me.” He sat and introduced himself, maintaining eye contact while giving me a brief rundown of his name, age, and dating status.  I returned my information, and he grew even more intrigued. “What is a hot, young, sexy girl like you doing single?” he chuckled in disbelief. “Maybe I have more fun this way.” I teased, twirling the tiny straw around in my half-empty drink slowly before bringing it to my lips, sucking away the liquid, giving him a show.

 

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Christine 1844-332-2639 ext 468

There’s a certain kind of energy that fills a room when control and confidence meets curiosity. It’s quiet at first—just a glance, a smirk, the subtle understanding that tonight might be a little more exciting than usual.

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Melanie 1-844-33-CANDY ext 463

I need my good little sex slave this evening to service me and entertain me. Now come over here and let me humiliate you!

I invited my favorite little pansy over, Joe. He’s always been a good little toy for me to get what I want, and tonight I wanted my pussy licked and sucked on. The first thing he did when he came over was to get on his knees. He crawled over begging me to suck my gorgeous pussy. Don’t get me wrong, I love some good, pathetic begging, but instead I said, “If I wanted to hear you talk I wouldn’t have called you over. Now come show me how good you are with your mouth.”

As I was sitting in my royal Goddess chair, I was covered in a baby blue silky lace babydoll with matching panties. I was already slightly rubbing myself, just to get my pussy warmed up. I made Joe get on all fours and I put a collar and ten-foot leash on him. As I called him closer to me, I tugged on the leash. He got closer and closer, foot by foot. He was being such a good little pet.

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fucking

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The first man I truly “noticed” was Mr. Harrow, the 58‑year‑old owner of the corner bakery. I would watch him knead dough with a rhythm that reminded me of a heartbeat, with his forehead creasing in concentration and his eyes flickering over the pastries as if he were measuring the stories they could tell.

I didn’t understand at the time, but the way he laughed made me feel that I was in the presence of someone who could teach me a few things. My infatuation grew, not in the shallow way of a teen crush, but more like a slow, deliberate ache. I started to linger at the bakery after school, pretending to need a croissant while really just wanting to hear the soft rustle of his cardigan as he moved. I’d catch his eye, and for a heartbeat he’d smile.

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Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

“Rachel, see me after class” Professor Beckett whispered as he brushed past my desk. My heart immediately started racing at the thought of what on earth might happen next. And my pussy started getting wet in anticipation. But he didn’t lock the door after everyone was gone. He usually locks the door. But instead he came and sat down beside me. He began to explain that people like to talk. And somehow word had gotten back to the dean of the school that we had been messing around. I guess someone saw or heard something. So he said that there was only one way for him to keep his job and for me not to get expelled. He said it wasn’t easy to talk the dean into it, but he finally did. So he told me that I better not screw it up. He told me to go up to his office, get under his desk and wait for him. When he sits down at the desk, it’s my cue to unzip his pants and give him the blowjob of his life because Professor Beckett’s career and my education depend on it.

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Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

Loser #114 called again. He was just as pathetic as all of the previous times. I can’t believe how he is so easily controlled and manipulated by a nineteen year old bratty teen tease. All I have to do is tell him what a fucking loser he is and he starts oinking and throwing money at me. I just giggle and say “$cha$ching” over and over again. And he just keeps oinking and throwing money. He really is a total fucking loser. I decided to see what all I could get him to pay me for. So I made him suck on a dildo and tell me what a fucking loser he is while he was gagging on it. That turned him on so much that he begged me to drain his wallet. So I did just that while I took the dildo and shoved it up his ass and fucked him with it. He oinked the whole time. So I took it out of his ass and made him lick it clean. That made the pathetic little loser’s dick hard. It was time to take it to the next level.

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Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

I am still in shock over Mr. Martin’s confession. I’d already decided that I wasn’t going to tell him that Mrs. Martin had come into work. She’d found credit card receipts and suspected that he was having an affair. There was no way I could tell her that it was me, or that he also messed around with my uncle. But none of that even mattered anymore. He confessed that he wanted more. He wanted me to find him a young boy my age. Then he wanted me to teach him how to pleasure a man like Mr. Martin. Wow, it was all a lot to swallow. Pun intended, lol. But none the less, I was ready to find the perfect boy for him. And I knew deep down who that was. My friend from HS Danny. He had always been a curious panty boy. So I contacted him and sure enough he was on board with the plan.

When Danny got to my apartment, his apparent giddiness proved how excited he really was. I got him all dressed up in some of my lingerie. Then we heard a knock on the door. It was Mr. Martin.

Continue reading “Mr. Martin’s Confession Part 2” →

blowjob

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’d somehow ended up at a friend’s backyard BBQ, half-listening to a conversation about the merits of different BBQ sauces. That’s when I noticed him leaning against the grill with his shirt sleeves rolled up. His fingers were absently toying with a set of tongs, just as I noticed the sunlight glinting off his wedding ring. Not that I was ogling, of course. I was just appreciating the way his hands moved. When our eyes met, he raised an eyebrow and I froze.

He ambled over, clutching a plate of ribs like a peace offering, and we fell into that classic small-talk rhythm. Compliments on the food, jokes about the humidity, a shared eye-roll at someone’s questionable ketchup-to-mayo ratio. But then, out of nowhere, he asked, “You ever fix a leaky faucet?” and I blinked, because what? “No,” I said, laughing. “I just turn off the water and pretend it’s not dripping.” He chuckled, of course.

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cuck

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I have always liked the dark side of control. Sometimes, I think back to the hallway of my old school, where the smell of chalk and old books mixed with the scent of my very hot teacher’s cologne. Mr. Harris was my English teacher for three years. He was kind, with a soft voice that could make Shakespeare feel like a whisper in a lover’s ear. To me, anyway.

After graduation I left the town. I moved to the city, and learned how to dress in black leather and how to make a command sound like a promise. I became a domme. This entire time, I kept Mr. Harris’s name in a notebook with his birthday, his favorite coffee, even the way he tapped his pen when he was thinking. It was a secret map, like a game that only I could see.

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