Category: phone sex story

cock

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

When I say fill me up, I mean it. For me, the greatest thrill, the purest joy, comes in the shape of a man’s penis. Call them what you want – weiners, cocks – for me, they are nothing more than hard pleasure. The sight of one, firm and eager, makes my breath catch.

I love the feeling of putting a big juicy cock in my mouth. Thick and warm, sliding over my tongue, filling my cheeks, pressing against the back of my throat. It’s a delicious test of how much I can take and how deep I can go. The way it stretches my jaw, pushing, pulsing, making me gasp for air even as I crave more.

Continue reading “When I say fill me up, I mean it.” →

pantyhose

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I have a serious thing for pantyhose. Not just an ‘Oh, these look nice with my skirt’ kind of thing. More like ‘If I could wallpaper my apartment with nude sheers, I absolutely would’ kind of thing. It’s an obsession, a fixation, a silky, glorious addiction. It started innocently enough. I had a preference for smooth legs under dresses. But then it escalated.

Now, the mere sight of a freshly opened packet of control tops sends a little shiver down my spine. The satisfying rustle as I pull them up, the way they hug every curve, the subtle sheen catching the light…it’s pure, unadulterated joy. I have an entire chest of drawers dedicated to my collection. Fishnets, opaques, sheers, shinies, matte, reinforced toe, open toe…you name it, I’ve got it, probably in three different colors.

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xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

“You’re in so much trouble,” Daddy announced himself as he stepped into the room. I was lying on my tummy playing on my phone. “Do you even know how much trouble you’re in?” He asked with a raised brow. I shrugged a single shoulder.

“Not much.” I sassed. It was hard to keep a straight face when bratting off, but I managed. He towered over me as he got closer, his shadow coming over the screen of my phone, causing me to look up at him.

Continue reading “Frannie Gets In Trouble” →

masturbation

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

My shift has been long. The music is loud, the men are loud. On this stage, I am a queen, even if the crown is just a spotlight and the throne is a brass pole. They watch me, hands gripping their drinks, their eyes hungry. I give them a show. But inside, I feel empty. A machine on repeat. I need something real.

My set ends. The applause is sloppy. I grab my towel and head quickly toward the back hall. “Five minutes, Stella,” the DJ calls out. Five minutes. That’s enough time. I push open the door to the small storage closet near the ice machine. It smells like bleach and desperation. I lock the bolt quietly. No one ever comes back here. This dark, hidden place is mine.

Continue reading “My shift has been long and I need a break” →

naughty story

Jamie 1-844-332-2639 ext 461

Yes, I know I’m a hottie. And more importantly, I’m a professional-grade menace when it comes to first dates. So, after three weeks of witty banter and late-night DMs, I was finally meeting Alex, the ridiculously charming engineer I found on a dating app. Or, shall I say, he found me.

Alex had suggested somewhere casual, like a coffee shop. But ‘casual’ isn’t really in my vocabulary, especially when I’m trying to make a lasting (and perhaps slightly traumatizing) first impression. The plan was simple: I’d wear a beautifully demure, high-necked vintage dress.

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domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I ran a thumb along the seam of my black lace glove, savoring the slickness of the leather against my skin. The title—naughty slut, dominant bitch—they were just labels. To them, they were prayers whispered into the void. To me, they were tools.

Tonight, my tool was denial. Exquisite, slow, psychological denial. I pushed open the door, and the air shifted. Elias was already in position, knees pressed to the cold concrete, wrists secured behind him with thick, dark cuffs. He wasn’t looking at me; he wouldn’t dare until I permitted it.

Continue reading “Savoring My Power Over Him” →

candy

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

Ronnie and Zoey went out trick or treating. Mommy Anna told Ronnie to make sure to look after Zoey, and that they could stay out for as long as they wish, so long as they behaved in the days before Halloween. Ronnie and Zoey were so excited they could barely contain themselves.

Continue reading “Mommy Anna isn’t having it” →

domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Another one. Always the same hopeful, pathetic look in their eyes. As if I would be anything more than a fleeting fantasy for their miserable lives. “Bonjour, Monsieur,” I purred, my voice dripping with an accent thicker than the Parisian fog. He flinched, already knowing what was coming. Good. Fear is the first step to understanding your place.

He mumbled a greeting, as his gaze darted around my dimly lit salon. The velvet curtains, the antique furniture, the subtle scent of expensive perfume…it was all designed to overwhelm. To make them feel small. And it worked. Every time. “You are late,” I stated, not as a question, but as a cold, hard fact. They call me a bitch. Bien sûr. What did they expect? A gentle caress? A whispered endearment? Ridicule.

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cock sucking

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I’m a woman of simple, yet incredibly specific, pleasures. While some chase after fancy dinners or the latest gossip, my eyes are always scanning for one thing: a beautiful, thick BBC to wrap my soft, glossy lips around. It’s a craving, a delightful obsession, and frankly, my favorite way to unwind.

Recently, I met his guy. I spotted him across the room, as he was leaning against the bar with an easy smile playing on his lips. He was tall with broad shoulders and had that unmistakable “big dick energy” that always makes me feral. My radar went wild. There was a certain confidence in his stance, a lazy power that promised a delightful experience. My heart did a little flutter-kick. I had to have him!

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succubus

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

My Succubus costume was cheap red vinyl and was slutty enough that I felt the wind lift the hem with every step. I’d spent an hour applying black as night liquid eyeliner and slicking on the perfect shade of red lip gloss that tasted like artificial cherry and bad decisions. I wanted every eye on me. The kind of attention that made lesser girls blush, the kind that promised chaos.

I moved through the crush of masked students like I owned the ground, thriving on the whistles and the lingering stares. Every glance felt like a currency, and I was rolling in it. That’s when I saw him. He was standing alone, leaning against the wrought-iron fence of an old, unused cemetery that bordered the sidewalk—a classic mistake, I realized later.

Continue reading “The Succubus” →