Category: oral

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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pussy eating

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

“You’re not like the others, Amber.” He’s a lot older than I am and I probably should’ve run for the hills as soon as he said that, but I didn’t. I couldn’t help but desire him, even though I knew he was trouble. His hands were cold when he cupped my face, as his thumbs brushed my lips. I tilted my head back, as he murmured, “Spread them.” It wasn’t a request.

My fingers trembled, parting my pussy lips to reveal the ripe, aching fruit between us. The next thing I knew, he was devouring the flesh. MY flesh. I moaned, thinking it was passion, until his teeth grazed my clit and sent a joly of electricity through my entire body.

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law

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Miss Anna had a secret crush on her brother-in-law. She imagined what it would be like to fuck him behind her sister’s back. After all, her sister was a vanilla. And Anna, well, she was always a dirty girl deep down.

Anna went to a local dirty motel and called her brother-in-law.  She told him that she needed to talk and instructed him on where to meet her. She undressed in the room and waited on the edge of the bed.

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sluts

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The rain hammered against the pavement as Zoey and I huddled under the awning of the laundromat, with our work panties clinging to our skin. Twelve-hour shifts at the brothel left us reeking of sweat and cum, and our pussies were chafed raw. “Remember the ad we posted?” Zoey whispered, her breath fogging in the cold. “Seeking detail-oriented individual for personal cleaning duties. Must be hygienic, patient, and open-minded.”

Hugo answered within the hour. He arrived in a hoodie two sizes too big with eyes the color of storm clouds. “You wanted someone for cleaning services?” he’d asked, staring at our soiled panties. We’d nodded, leading him to the laundromat’s back room. It was nohing more than a narrow closet with a rusted sink. “It’s a ritual,” I said, stripping out of my panties. “We need someone clean to do it.” His hesitation lasted three seconds. “I’m good with details,” he mumbled.

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Kinky Cock Sucker

Avery 1-844-332-2639 ext. 228

You clicked on this blog because you’re a kinky cock sucker, aren’t you? I knew it. I can always smell men like you a mile away. Well, I guess I shouldn’t use the word “men” should I. Because you’re not one.

Real men don’t get down on their knees and suck dick. Only a cock sucker would do something like that. And that’s exactly what you are, a kinky cock sucker. Or at least you will be by the time I’m done with you. Because even if you’ve never sucked a cock, but dream about it, I’ll teach you everything you need to know.

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