BBC phone sex—those three dirty little words had been living rent-free in my thoughts for the entire week. I could not quit thinking about it. I am craving it. That yearning, demanding pressure between my thighs refused to let me forget what I wanted most. And tonight, I was not going to deny myself. Sure, sensual phone sex is my thing, but when I get a call from a sexy bull, all my softness disappears and I transform into a feral bitch in heat. I wore nothing except a thin, silky robe and a pair of lace panties wet with anticipation. My body was buzzing, alive with heat and want. I lit a candle near the bed, the flame flickering like the pulse between my legs, and climbed into the blankets, holding my phone in one hand and my toy in another. But that would not be enough. Certainly not tonight.
When he responded, his voice hardened my nipples. Deep. Confidence. That heavy tone indicated that he already knew why I was calling. “You ready for this dick, baby?” he said, and I believe I came a bit just from that. “Yes,” I muttered. “I want your BBC so badly. I want to feel every thick inch spread my pussy wide apart.” “Please,” I asked. “Fill me.” Use me. I want to get stuffed with your cum. I want your BBC cum to dribble off of me when you’re finished.” He moaned, which made my entire body arch. “That’s right,” he said. “You’re my little cum dump tonight, aren’t you?” God, sure. I was. Forget face-riding; I needed him inside of me.
My toy couldn’t keep up with my BBC phone sex fantasies. I pushed it away and pressed my hips into the mattress, wanting and urgent, while he guided me through it. “You’re gonna take every drop, pretty girl,” he hissed. “I want to see the pussy spread out and oozing. Mine. All mine.” I was right there, teetering on the brink and whining like a whore in heat. “Cum in me,” I urged. “Fill me up. I want to feel it leaking out while I’m still twitching around your cock.” He handed it to me. The sound of his losing control, the vision of that hot torrent of cum pouring deep inside, flooding my thirsty pussy—it pushed me over the edge hard. I shouted out as wave after wave pelted me, my body convulsing around the ghost of his cock.
I’m addicted to stretching. The mess. The delicious, naughty truth behind the perfect BBC phone sex dream. Dial 1 888 70 HOT4U and ask for Paisley.