Category: sexual fetish

Foot Fetish

Avery 1-844-332-2639 ext. 228

I find myself walking around in full lust mode lately. It’s probably the moon or the fact that Spring is almost here. But every single man I encounter becomes a potential fantasy for me, especially a foot fetish fantasy.

Since it’s getting warmer I was out sandal shopping and what sort of creature should stumble onto my path? A gorgeous shoo-in for Prince Charming working at the shoe store. What could be more perfect than to have a sexy man like him putting new spring sandals on my feet? He took extra care. More than normal. He was savouring my feet. Loving them. Caressing them. So I knew instantly this handsome man had a serious foot fetish.

Continue reading “Prince Charming Has A Foot Fetish” →

Danika * (844) 332-2639 x 466

I have this friend; let’s call him Ralph. He’s a very needy man who often has me rolling my eyes at his desperate requests for attention. However he is great at eating my pussy, so I often just give in. Typically after he’s made me cum a few times with his skillful tongue, I let him climb between my legs, acting as if he can actually get me off that way. I can’t feel him, and he thinks humping me like a jackrabbit is going to make things better. I’ll let him cum inside me just so I can watch him clean up the mess. But not today. Today, I was feeling a bit bratty myself and denied him his own orgasm. That’s right, the sweet cum slut Danika Denied an Orgasm.

I could hear his breath hitching as he yanked at his protruding member, that resembled a thumb more than a cock. His hand seemed big and clumsy, and he protested when I told him he would be Denied an Orgasm tonight. Gently asking him why he deserved to come made him scramble to answer, the look of humiliation at the question coloring his face, making me smile. Continue reading “Danika Denies an Orgasm” →

Kara 1844-332-2639 ext 306

When Daddy calls, I know I have to answer quickly, or he will punish me later. Today he called, and I did not make it to the phone in time to answer on the first call, so I quickly dialed him back.  I spoke hurriedly as I tried to slow my breathing from running to try to make it to the phone.  I could hear the sternness in his voice as he questioned me about missing his call. No excuse I could give would make my punishment any lighter, so it was pointless to even try to explain, but I decided to anyway.  At the conclusion of the call, his voice still rang in my ears, telling me how I would make it up to him tonight and prove to him why I deserved forgiveness.
Daddy is very strict and particular about the way I dress and look.  He wants me to look clean and polished before he gets me all messy. I showered and prepared my hair with soft curls falling down on each side of my face. I painted my lips in a soft rose colored shade of lip gloss and sprayed my neck and wrists with a dab of the perfume he loved on me the most.

Continue reading “Make Me Messy” →

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I slipped the silk camisole over my head, feeling the buttery fabric glide against my skin. My heart fluttered when I felt the delicate lace trimmed the edges of the garment. Each tiny stitch promised a day of exquisite self‑indulgence. I twirled before the full‑length mirror, watching the soft ivory cascade over my curves. The scent of fresh laundry mingled with a faint trace of vanilla from the candle on my dresser and I laughed, savoring the simple, almost reckless joy of dressing for no one but myself.

The afternoon stretched lazily and I decided to venture out for coffee. I paired my lacy underlayer with a loose, button‑down shirt that fluttered just enough to hint at the hidden treasure beneath. As I stepped onto the bustling sidewalk, a breeze lifted the hem of my skirt, teasing a flash of blush‑pink satin that made my cheeks warm with delighted embarrassment.

Continue reading “feeling the buttery fabric” →

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I signed up for a certification in hypnotherapy because I liked the idea of it. But then it turned into something more…something powerful. The first time a client walked into my little office on the third floor of an aging building, his eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite name. Curiosity? Fear? Something darker?

He introduced himself as Julian and said he was a “high‑functioning” executive who’d “just needed a little help to relax.” I began the session as I’d practiced a hundred times, using a gentle voice, a slow cadence, and a suggestion to focus on the rhythm of my breathing. “Follow the pendulum with your eyes and allow yourself to relax…” He seemed happy and booked another appointment. Success!

Continue reading “Not Your Grandmother’s hypnotherapy” →

Shrinking Little Dan

Valerie 1844-332-2639 Ext 243

Poor little Dan has a condition. We aren’t really sure why it’s happening to him, but he is shrinking. Little by little. When I moved in next door, he was a sexy man with flecks of gray at his temples who stood just over six foot two. But then one day, he just started getting smaller and smaller. He’s gotten so small, his Mommy, I mean, wife, has asked me to babysit him while she goes to work. Dan has become too small to care for himself. He can’t reach the potty and has been forced into wearing diapers now that he is only two feet tall.

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Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453

“Julie, I have a kinky fetish. I like to cum in my jeans in public.” He confessed for the first time. He said it all started when he was a young, horny boy. He would sit in class and watch the girls. He would try to see their budding little nipples through their shirts, and up their little skirts. Inevitably he would cum in his pants. Then a few years later, he had a girlfriend that would sit next to him in class and rub him through his pants until he would cum. He told me that he hasn’t been able to overcome this fetish. After all of these years, he still craves it. But he hasn’t found anyone that was into it or willing to help him fulfill his fantasy. He asked me if I could help him. It sounded so hot to me. My pussy was wet just thinking about it. I told him that I would absolutely love to. So we made reservations at a popular upscale restaurant. I requested a specific booth that is up on a step and overlooking the entire dining room. After all, I wanted him to be the center of attention.

Continue reading “Julie, I Have A Kinky Fetish” →

lover

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Mommy Anna was making a special effort to find any excuse to spank Ronnie, but it seemed the more she tried, the more he behaved. He was doing everything he could to evade a spanking.

Every night, when Daddy Ron would work night shift, Mommy Anna would call up her lover and he would beg her to tell him stories of how she spanked Ronnie and his little sister. The two of them would get off on talking about spankings on the phone and whisper sweet spanking nothings into each other’s ears.

Continue reading “Mommy Anna’s lover” →

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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fantasy roleplay

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

There was a time when I spent my mornings sipping coffee on the pier while the rope‑clad sailors shouted orders and hauled nets. Every time a burly deckhand looked in my direction, I felt a flutter in my already dripping wet pussy. I began to wonder whether I was simply attracted to the smell of tar and brine or to the swagger that comes with a life spent battling waves.

One breezy afternoon I decided to test my theory. I slipped into a striped nautical tee (my version of a sailor’s uniform, though I lacked the appropriate boots) and strutted down to the pier, pretending I could read the tide charts. Almost instantly, I caught the eye of one young seafarer, a lanky fellow with a tattoo of an anchor on his bicep, pretending to mend a net. I tipped my hat and said, “Mind if I borrow a rope? I’m feeling a little tangled up in my own fantasies.” He chuckled and offered me a spare coil. His fingers brushed my palm in a way that felt like a secret handshake between the tides and my imagination.

Continue reading “this MILF loves rope‑clad sailors” →