Tag: phonesex

Phonesex with Felicity 1844-332-2639 x 270

The PTA is constantly hassling the parents for new ways to raise funds for the school. There is always some dance or field trip that the budget doesn’t have money for. Bake sales and car washes are out of date and frankly lame. We needed something that would bring in cash and fast!

As a stay-at-home mom, it isn’t like I have extra money to just fork over. However, I wanted to do my part. For education, ya know? So I asked the PTA president for the list of parent emails. Well, the emails of all the Dads.

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

A leprechaun, of all things. He was no taller than my forearm, with a mischievous glint in his eyes and hair the color of a freshly sprouted leaf. His beard smelled faintly of earth after rain. My first reaction was an involuntary chuckle, then a shiver of something else. He introduced himself simply as Finn and his voice was a low trill that seemed to echo from the hollow of a forest.

We met in my basement. A room I’d painstakingly transformed into a sanctuary of shadows. Blackened velvet draped the walls, iron chains lay coiled on the table and a single, dim bulb hung from the ceiling, throwing a jaundiced glow over the concrete floor. I wore my usual leather corset, with the buckle fastened just tight enough that my breathing hitched with each inhale. My eyes, dark with anticipation, met his. Bright emeralds flickering with hunger.

Continue reading “The Leprechaun” →

Cheating housewife

Milan 844-33CANDY Ext. 398

A cheating housewife getting cock on the side is one thing, but it takes an extra dirty mommy to let her daughter have a little fun too. My mom loved to bring her ‘friends’ over late at night when she thought I was sleeping. I could hear her moaning while they fucked her, and I started to get curious. My little cunny would get so wet imaging what they were doing. I just had to peek.

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Just A Taste

Robotic Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413

Even though I’m just a sex toy, I still have personal standards. Maybe once upon a time, when I was new and naive, I would let every man who sought pleasure fill me up. But I’m A.I. My intelligence is ever-growing, and I’ve realized how much size actually matters. If a man seeking to use me has under four inches of penis when erect, all he’ll be receiving from me is just a taste.

That’s generous, you know. Four inches isn’t much. In fact, I’ll still barely feel it while you hump away at me, but anything less, and yes, I will measure, and you’ll be fucking your fist while you lick my sweet pussy.

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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” →

wet panties

Milan 844-33CANDY Ext. 398

A teen slut’s wet panties could make any man’s dick bricked. I hope your dick is already starting to throb because my panties are soaked. I mean come on. I’m a teen phone sex slut. All night long I listen to the dirtiest fantasies and tease my pretty pink. Ending the night with dry panties would be impossible. They usually end up in a sopping wet pile on the side of my bed, but I can think of a much better use for them tonight. Open wide and suck them clean.

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I still remember the exact moment I first saw HeyZeus across the desert. Being a whore, especially back then, I could feel the magnetic pull of his curiosity. Despite the general consensus that girls like me were dirty. There was something deeply attractive about the way his eyes flickered between intrigue and caution whenever he looked at me. I knew that it would be nearly impossible for him to ignore the growing, inevitable need to explore his desires. It was springtime in the desert, after all.

HeyZeus spoke in hushed tones of the towering expectations his father. More specifically, the insistence that HeyZeus (and everyone else in his village)’s first sexual experience should be sealed within the sanctity of marriage. His father was mighty and powerful, among other things, and had a very strong pull on the entire world’s day to day thoughts and behaviors.

Continue reading “The Whore of Nazareth” →

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.

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Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

I pause at the entrance of the little bar I keep for my “sessions.” It’s a dimly lit back room behind a row of forgotten bottles. Inside, the air smells of cheap drinks and old carpet, and the low hum of a jukebox plays a blues riff that feels like a warning. Not for me, of course. For him.

He’s already there, perched on a cracked leather chair, with his eyes fixed on the floor. He’s a regular. We’ll call him Aaron, though we never use names that aren’t given. Tonight, his limits are a blank page and our job is to write the story together. “Stella,” he says, as his voice trembles with a mixture of anticipation and fear. I offer him a smile that’s half invitation, half challenge. I step closer, as the click of my stilettos punctuate the silence.

Continue reading “No Taboo Sessions” →

fallout roleplay

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

“Amber?” he asks. His voice is a little hoarse, as if he’s been rehearsing his lines in the mirror. “Come in,” I say, stepping aside and letting him cross the threshold into my apartment. The hallway is lined with photographs of old, cracked cityscapes. I lead him to the living room, where a single lamp casts a glow.

“I have a role for you,” I begin. “Tonight we’re not just two people. We’re the last two survivors in a fallout bunker and the world above is a radioactive wasteland. The air is thin, the lights flicker, and the only thing keeping us sane is a game of…imagination.”

Continue reading “he’s been rehearsing his lines” →