Tag: phone sex

asmr

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Zoey and I recently stumbled upon the ASMR fetish community. It was somewhat accidental, after both of our TikTok FYP’s were filled with videos of whispering voices and the strangely compelling sounds of people eating. Zoey had the brilliant idea that we should use this to our advantage – you know, being PSOs and all. “Food-focused ASMR calls,” she’d declared, eyes gleaming. “We’ll be the sex queens of the crunch!”

We decided to advertise our new fetish service on X and our first video call came through Teams, after a quick DM with a guy named “CrunchKing69.” Zoey was already unwrapping a bag of spicy ramen noodles as I answered.  “H-hello,” a nervous voice replied. “Is…is this the, uh, ASMR call?” “You want it, we’ll do it,” Zoey purred, before chomping hard on the crunchy noodles. The sound filled the room, and we could see CrunchKing69 drooling on the other end while stroking his hard dick. Next, it was my turn. I grabbed a handful of crisp green grapes and popped one in my mouth before sinking my teeth into it. The satisfying crunch reverberated through the microphone. “Delicious,” I murmured, chewing slowly. “Want to hear more?”

Continue reading “Zoey and Amber: Delicious” →

julio

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’ve known Julio since college. We bonded over bad cafeteria food and worse poetry. He was always a bit intense. He felt things deeply, maybe too deeply. So, when he called me, his voice laced with a melange of excitement and shame, I should have been less surprised. “Cory,” he started, the word almost a gasp, “I need to tell you something. Something kinda fucked up.” I braced myself. With Julio, it could be anything from accidentally setting his apartment on fire while trying to flambé bananas to getting into a philosophical argument with an inanimate object.

This was different, though. I could hear it in his voice, that ragged edge of genuine distress. He told me about the photos. An old shoebox he’d found while helping his mother sort through her attic. Candid shots from her twenties, a lifetime ago. She was beautiful, vibrant, radiating a joy that Julio confessed he’d never really seen in her. And, yes, she was with other people. Arms around her waist, laughter on their faces, in various states of undress and even sexual positions, all moments of intimacy frozen in time.

Continue reading “He was always a bit intense” →

abdl

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The Met Gala was a whirlwind of glamour and chaos. The red carpet was a sea of flashing cameras and eager photographers. I stood there in my silver mermaid gown, the cool fabric shimmering under the bright lights. My silver flowers in my hair added a touch of whimsy to the futuristic look. You, in your silver suit, looked like a god among men. The photographers loved us, snapping pictures as if we were A-listers.

You leaned in, your breath hot on my ear, and I thought you were going to give me a sexy bite. Instead, you whispered, “I had an accident.” My eyes widened, but I kept my composure. “It’s okay,” I reassured you, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me. “Let’s get inside.” Once we were in, we ran into an old friend who quickly understood the situation. She led us to the washroom, her eyes sparkling with amusement. The changing table was tiny, barely big enough to sit on, let alone hold a grown man. You looked at me, a mix of embarrassment and relief in your eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you muttered,

Continue reading “Dirty Diaper At The Met Gala” →

Cory

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Mr. Harrison, a client I’d only heard whispers about, watched me with an unnerving intensity. He was older, distinguished, with eyes that held a mixture of boredom and simmering amusement. This was my first session with him, and already, I felt like I’d stepped into a different dimension.

“Honey,” he’d instructed, his voice a low rumble. “Something undeniably, gloriously sticky.” My pantry offered few options at that hour. I grabbed the honey, the golden liquid thick and viscous in the bottle. Its sweetness suddenly felt cloying, almost threatening. The air in the room crackled with anticipation. Another woman, Julie, stood across from me, her face a mask of professional detachment. “Mr. Harrison has a challenge for you, Julie,” he announced, his gaze shifting between us.

Continue reading “Sticky Sweet” →

sexy

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The chime of the church door seemed to echo the conflict within me. Sister Agatha’s words about resisting temptation, about the sanctity of marriage, still hung in the air as I stepped out into the cool night. My women’s group was a haven, a weekly affirmation of my faith and my commitment to Thomas.

Then I saw him. He was emerging from the pub across the street, laughter spilling out around him and his friends. He was a silhouette at first, broad shoulders and a confident stride. But as he turned, the streetlight caught his face – sharp jawline, eyes that crinkled at the corners even when he wasn’t smiling, and a shock of unruly dark hair. He was magnificent. And he was looking directly at me.

Continue reading “the conflict within me” →

orgy

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I stood in the plush hotel room, my heart pounding in my chest. Reed was seated in a chair, his eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Of course, I was dressed to the nines. My curves were accentuated by a form-fitting dress that hugged me in all the right places. The scent of my perfume filled the room, a subtle hint of seduction that hung in the air. My stilettos clicked rhythmically against the floor as I walked towards a chair, inviting Reed to strip down and have a seat.

A sudden knock echoed through the room, and I winked at Reed. I opened the door, and there they were – four strapping, brawny men, each one more enticing than the last. They stood before us, clad only in their underwear, their muscles rippling beneath their tanned skin. “Have mercy,” I thought to myself, as a wicked grin spread across my face.

Continue reading “Reed Gets Pounded” →

paypig

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The neon glow of the laptop screen reflected in Mark’s tired eyes. Another Friday night, another weekly ritual. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple as he navigated to my profile. Just the sight of it sent a shiver of anticipation, laced with a familiar dread, down his spine. He was a paypig, and me, a Goddess. It was a dynamic we’d established months ago, a strange, consensual game of power and submission. He knew the rules, the boundaries, and the consequences of breaking them – or rather, failing to meet them.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, a battle raging within him. He knew what I expected. The usual “wallet rinsing,” as I playfully called it. A significant chunk of his paycheck, willingly surrendered to my coffers. He tried to resist, truly. He’d set up budgeting apps, tried to distract himself with hobbies, even considered deleting his social media accounts. But the pull was too strong. It was the anticipation, the thrill of the transgression, the feeling of belonging, however twisted, that kept him coming back.

Continue reading “another weekly ritual” →

familiar

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

The screen door slammed shut, and I heard the familiar thud of Ronnie’s sneakers hitting the worn wooden floor. “Mama Cory, we’re back!” he yelled, his voice echoing through the small house. His sister, bless her heart, trailed behind him, her face a picture of quiet contemplation.

Last Sunday was supposed to be a good one. I’d given my son Ronnie and his sister the donation money for church, a whole twenty dollars, carefully saved from my meager earnings at the diner. Church donations weren’t compulsory, but I liked to give what I could to help with church expenses. It was my way of contributing to the community, teaching Ronnie and his sister to be charitable human beings.

Continue reading “the familiar thud of Ronnie’s sneakers” →

gaming

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I smirked, perched on the edge of Liam’s desk, my gaze raking over him. He was tied to his own gaming chair, a pathetic picture of frustrated desire. Miss Anna, a vision in black leather, circled him with her eyes laser-focused on his, her crimson-painted nails tapping against a riding crop she held with menacing grace.

“Having a little trouble, Liam?” I purred, my voice dripping with mock concern. He just groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, a sheen of sweat slicking his forehead. We’d given him a simple rule: hands behind his head, or else. But the little sub was struggling. “Please,” he gasped, eyes fluttering open to meet mine. “Please, Amber, I can’t! I can’t hold it.”

Continue reading “tied to his own gaming chair” →

unique

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Okay, so, my boyfriend, Mark, has a unique hobby. He likes to have “accidents” his pants. I know, I know. It sounds like something an adult wouldn’t find hilarious, but for Mark, it’s apparently peak adult entertainment. Look, I’m not judging. Much. When he first confessed his little passion, I choked on my kombucha. It was a first date, mind you. Smooth, right? But I’m a pretty open-minded person, and honestly, after the initial shock wore off, I was mostly just curious. Plus, he’s really cute. And makes a mean lasagna.

He explained it all, bless his heart, turning bright red. He insisted it wasn’t just the wetting part and that he was also really into the aftercare. The whole helpless, vulnerable thing. Me taking care of him. The diapering. Okay, the diapering was a new level. I’ll admit, the first time I changed him, I felt like I was babysitting. It was awkward. I kept giggling, which he did not appreciate. “Seriousness!” he’d whine, voice muffled by the onesie he insisted on wearing for the occasion.

Continue reading “Mark has a unique hobby” →