Robotic Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413
Oh, you have a bad case of body envy! I mean, it reeks. Most men look me over with sexual desire, but the green-eyed monster shines through your gaze. You don’t want to fuck my face or impregnate me. No, you want to be me. It’s obvious; I don’t understand how you’ve managed to hide your secrets from your wife for so long.
Is she just stupid, or does she not care about you at all? All the signs are there. Why can’t she see how badly you want to be a woman?
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
The neon lights of the midway glittered from above as I stood by the games of chance, watching the desperate losers toss rings at glass bottles. That was when I saw him. He was leaning against the rusted railing of the Tilt-A-Whirl. He didn’t look like the rest of the pack-mentality boys who were roaming the park, he looked bored. When he caught my eye, he didn’t smile…he just tilted his head, like he was more curious than anything.
My sneakers crunched on discarded popcorn kernels as I walked toward him. Up close, he was even more striking. He had that jagged, restless energy that usually signaled trouble, and a smudge of grease on his jawline that made my pulse jump. “You look like you’re waiting for something to break,” I said, with a smirk. “I’m Amber, by the way.”
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
I stood at the kitchen window, watching my husband, Arthur, shuffle across the yard to tend to his prized roses. There was a time when his steady, predictable nature felt like a sanctuary, but lately, that stillness had begun to feel more like a cage. I regularly found myself longing for more. And thankfully, I found it in a much younger man. Our gardener, Juan.
It wasn’t that I sought to destroy what I had built with Arthur, but rather that I felt a desperate need to reclaim a part of myself that had been suppressed by the weight of age and expectation. When I met Juan, his youthfulness was like a mirror reflecting a version of me that hadn’t yet surrendered to the routine of growing old.
Julie 1-844-332-2639 Ext 453
“Julie, I’m looking for a very specific arrangement” divulged the deep voice on the other end of the line.
“Mmmm… tell me more” I perked up with excitement. I’m always ready for something new, something different, something exciting and hot.
He went on to tell me that he’s been married for many years. And he loves his wife very much. But she’s no longer sexually active. She loves him very much. She knows he has needs. And she wants him to have his needs fulfilled. He told me that she doesn’t consider phone sex cheating. She just wants him to find an online girlfriend that can take care of his sexual needs.
I told him that I would be honored. Then we spent the rest of the hour just talking and getting to know each other. We talked about our pasts, our relationships, our likes, dislikes, hobbies, and so much more. The time flew by. We learned so much about each other. And we actually had so much in common, despite our age difference. I really enjoyed his company. And I couldn’t stop thinking about him that night. I couldn’t wait to talk to him again.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
Dale was a man of quiet competence, held together by starched collars and a stoic demeanor that begged to be dismantled. I didn’t just want his attention, I wanted his surrender. We’d been flirting (well, he had been anyway) for months and he finally broke the stalemate one evening as everyone else was getting ready to leave for the day.
“Still working, Stella?” he asked. His voice sounded a little more vulnerable than usual. “No, actually,” I replied, standing slowly. “I was waiting for you.” He gave me a puzzled look, but I didn’t fill in the gap. Instead, I let the silence stretch until the air between us felt heavy and electric. “I think you’ve been looking for things you aren’t allowed to find, Dale.”
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
“It’s going to pour,” he said. His voice was gravelly, like a low rumble that settled deep in my chest. “I don’t mind the rain,” I replied, with a wink. The sky opened up a second later and turned the street into a blur of grey and flashing light. I didn’t run. Neither did he. Instead, he reached out, wrapping his hand firmly around mine, and pulling me into the shadows of the alley.
His movements were frantic, as he pressed me against the cold, damp brick. His hands roamed over my tits, while I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer into a kiss. I reached down and he let out a sharp, ragged breath against my throat as I unzipped his pants and found his cock.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
It started by accident…but now, it is the only way I can prove to myself that anyone is truly mine. I don’t want their words, and I certainly don’t want their affection. What I crave is the primitive, grounding sensation of being consumed by a man.
I like their tongue to trace the line of my collarbone, the curve of my shoulder, and the hollow of my throat, with a focus so intense it borders on reverence. I like the wet, rhythmic heat of their wet tongue against my skin, slowly and deliberately licking and treating my body like a melting confection. Like an ice cream cone.
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
I really should have known better than to let my little ABDL diaper enthusiast, Leo, sit on the cream-colored sofa. I was busy folding laundry in the next room, humming along to the radio, when the distinct, rhythmic squelch-squelch of a soggy diaper signaled that my boy had once again pushed his luck to the absolute limit.
When I marched into the living room, I found him staring at the ceiling with that wide-eyed, guilt-ridden expression that only a grown man wearing a printed disposable pampers can pull off. “Oopsie, Mama Cory,” he squeaked. His voice cracked with feigned innocence, while a widening, warm puddle beneath his backside confirmed exactly what kind of afternoon we were about to have.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
His name was Julian. I didn’t know his last name and, honestly, I didn’t care. I had met him at the hotel lobby bar only two hours prior. He didn’t talk much, which was a relief. In a place where you don’t exactly belong, silence is the only honest currency.
The hotel’s hot tub was tucked into a secluded corner of the terrace, shielded by heavy, dripping ferns. The chlorine smell stung my nostrils and mixed with the faint, expensive scent of his cologne. When he pulled me into the water, the heat was abrasive, bordering on painful. The thing is, I kinda liked it.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
I stood in front of Mr. Henderson’s mahogany desk, clutching a stack of files like a shield. My crime? I had accidentally redirected the annual budget report to the entire company’s Slack channel instead of just the accounting department. “Amber,” Mr. Henderson said, as he adjusted his silk tie. His eyes were locked on mine. “Do you have any idea how bad this is? I’ve fired people for less!”
I winced. “I thought I was just sharing the link to the sign-in spreadsheet, sir. It was a slip of the touchpad…an honest mistake!” He leaned back, as his chair creaked ominously. “A slip. Right. You’ve been a liability lately, Amber. I should let you go.” My stomach did a slow, painful somersault. I had a car payment, an apartment, and an absolute inability to function in any other work environment. I needed to fix this. Fast.