Category: phone sex story

masturbation blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

From the moment he appeared at my table, a subtle electric current had formed between us. He had kind eyes, the color of warm caramel, framed by lashes that were entirely too long for a man, and a smile that crinkled the corners of his mouth just so. His black uniform, crisp and impeccable, did nothing to hide the athletic grace of his build. He wasn’t just bringing water; he was bringing heat.

“Good evening,” he’d said, his voice a low, smooth baritone. “Can I start you off with a drink?” “You certainly can,” I’d purred, letting my gaze linger a fraction too long on his lips. “And you are…?” He’d offered his name, that easy smile spreading. “Liam. And you?” “Stella.” I held his gaze, a silent challenge in my eyes. “It’s lovely to meet you, Liam.”

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pantyhose fetish

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I leaned against the wall, crossing my legs seductively. “You like what you see, Mike?” I asked, running my hand up my thigh. His eyes followed my every movement, and I could see his dick straining against his pants. “OH…MY…GOD…YES,” he breathed, taking a step closer. I smiled, standing up and walking towards him. “Well, you’re in luck. I have a special surprise for you today.” I reached into my bag and pulled out a pair of fresh, unopened pantyhose. His eyes widened, and I could see his dick twitch in anticipation.

“Do you want to see me put them on?” I asked, holding up the delicate fabric. He nodded eagerly, and I slowly began to slide the pantyhose up my legs, taking my time to make sure every inch of skin was covered. Once I had them on, I turned around and bent over, giving Mike a full view of my ass. I could hear him groan behind me, and I knew he was aching to touch me. But I wasn’t done teasing him yet.

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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.

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espresso

 Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203              ☏ ☏ ☏        Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403

Mommy Anna was preparing a special dinner. She had Little Zoey and Ronnie help her prepare everything: cutting up the vegetables, toasting bread, and then she made them set the table just right. Zoey was a perfectionist and she made sure to correct Ronnie every time he cut a vegetable the wrong way, or folded the napkins wrong at the dinner table.

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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.

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blog

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I glanced at the screen, and a name I hadn’t seen in over a year popped up: Scott. My ex-boyfriend, Scott. I stared for a second, wondering if it was some kind of mistake. Then the text itself loaded: ‘Hey, it’s Scott. Got a new phone, wanted to make sure you had my number.’ Um, why? Seriously. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, but a reply felt unnecessary. What could he possibly want? And why now, after all this time? It’s been a full year since we spoke, since he walked in on me and Greg, since our whole world imploded.

I mean, ‘imploded’ sounds dramatic, but for me, it was more like a necessary demolition. Scott had become a lump. When he lost his job, I tried to be supportive, I really did. But days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and he just moped around the apartment, expecting me to pick up all the slack. Rent, groceries, bills – it all fell on my shoulders. It was overwhelming, frustrating, and frankly, I was drowning. I just needed an escape, you know? Something, anything, to make me feel alive again.

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Bag A' Boys

Francie 1844-332-2639 xXx 208

Recently, I’ve turned my shrink ray into a travel-size mister! It looks like a little taser only instead of shocking some innocent sod, when a boy is hit with my mister, he inhales a shrinking mist. It works instantly! I have to be careful where I find the boys I intend to add to my little bag a’ boys, but once I set my eyes on a target, it’s over for him!

I like to swing by the local fancy hotel. People travel from far and wide to do business here, and so many people seem to go missing on business trips, so it’s the best spot to find my next victim. That’s where I found Anthony!

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findom

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Mark, bless his heart, shifted nervously on the edge of my worn velvet chaise lounge. His eyes, usually bright with a hopeful glint, were now clouded with a desperate hunger. He thought I liked him. He truly did. And maybe, in some twisted way, I did. But mostly, I liked the way the crisp hundred-dollar bills felt between my fingers after our sessions.

I moved with a practiced grace, as my many years of dance lessons finally started to pay off. I circled him slowly, my fingertips trailing lightly over the fabric of his neatly pressed shirt. He flinched at my touch, a tremor running through his body. He was so easy to control, a marionette dancing to the tune of my whispered commands. The rules were clear, etched in unspoken agreement between us. He could pump. He could stroke. But he could never, ever cum. He couldn’t touch me, but I could touch him. I was the conductor of this bizarre symphony of frustration, and he was my willing, albeit tormented, instrument. Nothing more than a plaything…A pet.

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Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

It was a hot Saturday afternoon at my neighbor’s summer BBQ.  Little did I realize the naughty fun that awaited me that fateful day.

I arrived in a short red sundress that hugged my curvy figure, showing off my ample cleavage and long legs. The moment I stepped out of my car, I caught the eye of Chad, the tall, muscular guy next door. He was grilling up burgers and gave me a sly wink as I walked over. “Well hello there, gorgeous,” he said smoothly, eyeing me up and down. “Welcome to the party.”

I blushed and thanked him, feeling his strong hand brush against mine as he handed me an ice cold beer. The rest of the guys were gathered around the yard, their tank tops glistening with sweat in the summer heat. There was Jared, the reserved bookish type with glasses. And then there was Ryan and Shane, the mischievous twin brothers always up to no good.

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Popping Boys- Vore Party

Francie 1844-332-2639 xXx 208

Attending Vore parties is so exciting. One of my girlfriends has black market access to shrunken boys, and when the girls and I party, she orders them by the dozens. We pop boys like some sluts pop pills. Getting high on the feeling of crunching them between our teeth and swishing them around our mouths with our tongues.

We often get so hot devouring them that we end up making out with our little snacks between our lips. You know what happens after girls start kissing.

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