(Disclaimer: This is purely fiction.)

“Gypsy, you have a client who is wanting you for 24 hours. He will send the itinerary over in a few hours. I will fax it to you.”

Dave didn’t even look up from his food. He lost himself in a bowl of pasta, when I left, a dribble of the sauce dripping down his chin. It was a little repulsive. When you work in an industry filled with beautiful people, you don’t get excited anymore. The necessities of life become prevalent.

I arrived home as the fax came through. I ignored it for a moment. The shower was more of what I needed. The way the water kissed over my flesh forced me to linger a bit, fantasize as my fingers caressed over my soft folds. Pushing the digits inside, the shrill of the phone stopped my exploration. I wouldn’t finish now, but later, this need would be sedate.

Stopped by a telemarketer had to be the icing on the cake. Selling home security, I tried five times to discourage them, but had to hang up in self-defense. It was at that time when I started reading over the fax. Shocked would be an understatement.

The car will arrive at 8 pm, please pack for a three-day stay, though your only needed for 24 hours. Your flight leaves at 10 pm, and you will arrive in Los Vegas by dawn. The limo driver will ask for the non-disclosure. I assume you understand the need for discretion at all times. Please be aware that you will not be staying at my house. I have obtained a hotel room for you.

You will arrive at the hotel for breakfast. Please eat, shower, and nap. At 7 pm you will need to be at my home for a production release party. Please dress in formal attire.

The next 12 hours were a blur. I had signed the non-disclosure and gave it to the driver. Flown to Vegas, and now I was standing in the client’s home’s entryway. I can’t mention his name, but wow, this was earth-shattering.
“He’s expecting you. The other guests have arrived, but you are to meet him in the office. If you will follow me!”

Straight to the point, the Butler spoke in a heavy British accent. He was about 5o, grey hair, and slender. He looked like he could have fallen from a James Bond movie and landed right here. In my head, I had named him Jeeves.
“Gypsy, so nice to see you. I trust you got everything you needed?”

In awe, my head shook a little. I was standing in the same room as this man whom I had fantasized about so often. His voice was that of an angel, but I knew he was no saint. He was a pure devil. All the tabloids confirmed he was one of the biggest assholes in Hollywood. Right now, though, he was perfect. Biting down on my bottom lip, I needed to pull myself together. This was no way for a grown woman to behave.

“Of course. The flight was nice, and the room, well, it’s beautiful.”

After a 3 second internal fight with my common sense, I was back. There is no possible way that I want to be a star gazing little fool. He enlightened me about the party going on. It was a new album release. Living the life he did, it wasn’t profitable for him to settle with one woman. Since he wanted sex later, I was a sure thing.

As the clean crew worked diligently on the house, the two of us retired to the pool. Clothing dropping on the cement patio. I love sex in the water. Shocked, he was well endowed. So much so that I gasped a bit, giving him the ego boost he was seeking. Every man likes to know he can pleasure a woman. He would please me repeatedly with that monster cock.

“Lay back on the edge of the pool. I haven’t had a pussy I wanted to eat in years. Yours is magnificent.”

I swear I blushed. I have never had my pussy complimented like that before. Doing as told, I laid the towel on the concrete. My legs remained in the water as he spread me open. How can you prepare for this? He was, well, who he was, and I was a whore. Starting at my toes, he suckled each digit into his mouth, his tongue tracing them in a seductive dance. I will admit that I love this. It’s erotic the way he played each little piggy. He was making love to the perfectly manicured little tootsies. He sucked each one as though it was my clit, and he was trying to make me cum. Honestly, I almost did a few times.

One foot, and then the other, his mouth worked its way up to my heated center. By now, there was a delicate trickle of liquid love trailing from my pussy. He blew softly, his air enveloped my wet lips, sending shivers up and down my spine. Between the night air, and his mouth, I was on the edge of explosion. It was too soon to come. I didn’t want to ruin this. A swirl of his tongue over my clit, I had to reach down and grab the pool’s edge to stop myself from riding his face. I’m sure he would like it, but I didn’t know his boundaries yet.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Whimpering, my voice called out like a beacon. Being a vocal lover, I know that most men love when a woman encourages them. The actions of his tongue proved that to be true. Dividing my slit with the tip of his oral muscle, my clit throbbed the moment he wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves. My shaking couldn’t be sedated. The talents of his oral skills had a flood of fluids dripping down my crack, pooling beneath my ass.

A hand crept down my body, tangling in his hair, I fed him my sweet entrance, lost each time his tongue dipped into my tiny pink rim. A circle drawn around my precious little peach, I heard him sucking the sweetness from my honeycomb. He was slurping from the fountain, my pussy squirting into his mouth. I drenched his face with my sweet, liquid love. Cumming was a surprise. I had the moment he pushed the tip inside of me. The tip of his tongue that is. His dick would come soon, but right now, the waves of rapture cascaded through my veins, and heaven found.

The post Adult Bedtime Story time with Gypsy appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Everyone whether they want to admit it or not, has a fantasy that someone else would consider disgusting. Do I? Sure, but there is a difference between me and the normal person. I am not afraid of what people think of me. My life is an open book for the world to read. I’ve opened the doors to my dirty little secrets, so, are you ready to hear my fantasy?

His words penetrated her soul with a fever that no traditional medication could control. Wicked, his eyes boring holes into her frame as he sat across the room watching the young blonde undress. Each article of clothing tailored to fit, but she removed them as though they were thrift store quality. Money was never an object when he was involved. She would rip each thread from the silk in which it was sown if he demanded. She stopped at the panties, the red ones he sent to her the night before. Lace bikini cut with a small red bow on the band. They resembled the ones Victoria Secret used to entice men into the store. The difference with him though, was that these were the trophy from the last conquest. His bad habit was taking the panties from his victims.

“Leave them on. I don’t want to see your cunt, well, not yet at least,” he vocalized.

She moved across the floor like a cat stalking her prey, stopping only inches from his large frame. God dammit, why was he the drug she craved more than any other? Her lungs expanding with argumentative breath, she struggled with the intensity. Smirking, her crimson lips curling up, even the Cheshire cat would be jealous of her smile. A swift strike of her tongue over her bottom pillow, she moistened the stain with a saliva gloss. Yes, yes, he would like that. Her mouth wet for him. He never said a word, but she heard him inside of her head. He didn’t need to speak. She knew.

“May I?” she whispered.

“May you, what?” he laughed.

“Let you rape my throat with your cock,” uttered the young blonde.

His hand moved down to the jeans he wore, grabbing the crotch of his pants with a rough grip. He was taunting her, and she knew it.

“Are you a good girl?” he asked.

Her head shook from side to side as she smiled, “No, no I’m not. I am a cock craving whore.”

As a master would call his dog, his hand slowly tapped his pants to advance her to his lap. Sighing, his hands now on the side of the chair, he waited. She didn’t expect him to help, did she? Of course, not. A cock craving whore knows her place on the food chain.

“Thank you,” her body shook as she whispered.

Slowly taking the space between them away, her slender digits working down his zipper with ease. The button next, one slip of her hand and she released him from the confines of his pants. It was at the point, that she used the tip of her finger to push a strand of drool that escaped from the side of her mouth. Looping the saliva around her finger, she pushed it back into her warm mouth, pulling back with a soft suck. God, wait, there was no God present here. All she wanted was her throat to be ripped from her body and used as a cock sleeve for this man. He intoxicated her soul.

He pushed his body back in the chair, lifting a bit to allow the release. As he placed his hands behind his head and laced his fingers, he waited. She knew what to do. They all knew. A breath exhaled, he was tired of waiting, and she would know that before the night was over.

As though a serpent, her tongue perched between her lips, tasting the air around. Fuck, he was delicious, and she hadn’t yet tasted his nectar. Slithering up the underbelly of his cock, her tongue followed the thick vein from his sac to the head. A flicker back and forth, she painted his cock with an overabundance of saliva. Every stroke of her tongue caused her body to tingle with a wanton desire.

“Umf,” he muttered.

Both hands on the floor to brace herself, she wrapped those pretty lips around the head of his cock, engulfing to the rim. A slow roll of her tongue, she fucked the slit with the tip of her oral muscle, pulling back with a sudden pop. Eyes to his, her lips in a well-defined whistle as she blew on the damp mushroom. Inch by inch, she engulfed him, her crimson prints left around the base of his thick cock. As much as she tried, the gag reflex was too strong. Choking on the size, her mouth slowly retracted, saliva pouring the moment her lips released the meat.

“No!” his voice boomed like a clap of thunder.

H reached out, grabbing the back of her head and forced his cock against the seal of her lips. With force, his hand pushed down, the head of his cock threatening to break her teeth if she didn’t comply. Lacing his fingers in the soft strands of her hair, he didn’t stop until every inch of his dick stretched her mouth to capacity.

“Bitch, do you choke?” he asked, yanking her head back, looking into her shocked eyes.

“No, no we don’t choke,” she whimpered.

He pushed her head down hard, the head of his cock pushing deep into her throat, holding tight to stop her from pulling away. It wasn’t about what she wanted, but about what he needed. Forcing his hand back with regret, no sooner did he give her a breath did he take it back away. There is giving head, and then there is this. Throat fucking with a jackhammer speed, the head of his cock causing her mouth to bleed from the size. One after another, his thrust causing him to lift from the seat to impale her on the length. No longer a concern as long as she kept her mouth open, he used it for his pleasure.

Gasping, her face turned blue from the lack of oxygen. Crying with each thrust, her eyes widened, the streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. Cheeks bulging, her lips burned from the stretch. Her pain was his pleasure, and the more she gagged, the closer to cumming he was. Her nostrils flare as his hand restrained her head, holding her throat to the point of collapsing around the bridge of his cock.

“Fuck, eat that fucking cum,” his voice raspy as he demanded.

She opened her eyes with the first hit of scalding fluid down her throat. His nuts resting on her chin, he dumped them down her greedy throat in waves of lava from the head of his dick. Her cheeks expanded, filling them to resemble a chipmunk stuffing nuts in for the winter. In her case, she was on a liquid diet. Pure protein.

He exhaled deep, leaning back as his hand released her hair, pushing her back from the oversensitive head of his cock.

“Go clean yourself up. You’ll do better next time,” he laughed, lighting the half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray.

The post Fantasy Or Reality – You Choose appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Enjoy my little creative story.

Pacing the floors of her home, she was bored out of her mind. At 18, she should be out partying with kids her age, but there was something different about this one. She needed things that a man her age could never provide. Maybe that’s why she preferred them all over 35 years of age. So much time passed since she was with a man. She needed to know she could still get one for some reason. Well, if she wanted one. A few hours of fun was all she needed to get her mind to where she needed.

Thumbing through her phone, the name that stood out was that of a local strip club. One where eighteen was legal, and they had open stage night every Tuesday. Tonight, she would mindfuck someone stranger into oblivion. That was the goal, at least.

Two hours later, the five-foot-ten in blond found herself in the middle of the stage, searching for her victim. She would call him that because by no means would she fuck him tonight. Her pussy saved for a special guest, and there were no VIP’s in sight.

Music blaring, she wore nothing but a pair of red panties, stocking with lace trim, and a thin ribbon around her neck. Though tied in a bow, she was no one’s gift tonight. One more item accented her outfit of choice. A pair of 4 inches spiked red stilettos. Not her normal expensive ones. These would serve one purpose tonight. They were for attention only.

In the center of the stage, a chair sat, waiting. Calling a guy in the front row on stage, she smirked when she noticed the bulge in his jeans. If that were any indication of what he was packing, it would take all she had not to give in to temptations. She pointed to the chair. No words were needed. Tonight she was going to use him for a prop in her little act of self-pleasure.

The music changed, the song was seductive and enticing. As she moved in for the kill, her hips swayed to the beat of the song, never missing a note. Stopping as she approached, her hands slid slowly up her sides, cupping her breasts’ underside in each palm. Not big, nor small, she was a perfect handful. As her tongue traced her bottom lip, she tightened the grip on her tits, pulling forward to grasp her perky nipples between her thumb and forefinger, twisting, yanking, and finally releasing them back with a bounce. She wouldn’t stop till the naturally pink buds changed to a constricted shade of red, her breath coming in shallow pants. The look on his face said it all. This man was mesmerized by the show in front of him.

“Fuck,” he growled.

No, there was no fucking tonight. Just a little tease. She loved being a tease, straddling the male’s lap, one leg on either side. A long grind would start the show. She slid a hand to the back of his neck, yanking his face forward, planting his lips between her tits. With a whisper, she held him there, grinning, “tongue fuck my tits!” Her head dropped back as he rolled his tongue up and down her cleavage, slapping him in the back of the head when he tried to attach to her nipple. “Do it again, and we’re done,” she warned. Tonight was not his show. It was hers. Long licks over her freckled breast, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a satisfying approval. His dick strained in his pants as she pushed down repeatedly on the crotch of his pants. Her panties saturated now with her lust.

She yanked his head back once again, looking into his eyes, and her free hand forced three fingers into his mouth, fucking over his tongue with slender digits. “That’s a good boy. Get them nice and wet,” she whispered. Pulling her hand out, she smirked as the next place they landed was down her panties, fingers curled, and pushed into the tight walls of her gripping cunt. Slowly, her fingers pushed to break the invisible seal. A loud guttural moan came from deep within. Each slide of her fingers forced her to contract her walls around them. Juices were pouring out to soak the silk panties she wore, staining his pants with her filth.

“Fuck, fuck my cunt,” she growled. The only one fucking her was her. Each time she pushed down on his hard dick, the jeans forced her fingers in deeper, stretching her walls as the liquid sloshed out and around the tips of her fingers.

His eyes widened, bucking his hips up to meet her growing demands, she screamed out as the first orgasm ripped through her body like waves of boiling lava. Each ripple was forcing her to cry like a wanton little whore. She was, though—a little whore who sought pleasure in only herself.

Satisfied, she pulled her fingers from her panties, forcing them down his throat. That was his payment for the night. He would be allowed to taste what he could never touch. It seems like a fair trade.

She slipped from his lap, laughing at the sight. He was covered in her orgasm and would be left wanting for his own. She would leave him to handle his problem on his own. Remember, there was no VIP’s here tonight.

The post VIP – Leave Them Horny and Begging appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Disclaimer. This is pure fantasy. Nothing here is real.

During my life as an Escort, I have done some things I have been proud of, and some I am ashamed of. This one lays right there in the middle of the road. I had a client who asked for something specific. He wanted me to be a Nun. I am not Catholic, so I don’t play by the rules of the church, but for the most part, I have some sort of morals. Well, I thought I did at least. If you’re easily offended, skip this bit of writing.

“You have an outfit you are to wear on the date. Just ask Janice for the box.”

Dave was very straight to the point and cold, but he was in this business to make money, not friends. He reminded me of that many times. Being the warm soul that I am, at times found this to be hard.

Standing in the foyer of the office, I lifted the lid to the outfit and burst out in a fit of laughter. It was a Nuns habit. He wanted me to be a Sister for him. Everything was once a first, and this right here was shocking. Inside the box was the black habit, some rosary beads, and crucifix, and a bible. Even just looking at this stuff made my stomach quiver. The note at the bottom made me shake though.

“You are to dress in the outfit and meet me at St. Paul’s cathedral. Be there at 9 pm for a confession. You will be using the 3rd confessional from the right. Do not be late.”

Holy fuck, he was going to make me attend church like this. What does a fake Nun do at a church? I don’t even know how to be a good, or bad, Catholic.

At 8:57 pm I arrived dressed in the habit, the bible in my hand, and the beads hanging from the belt. I googled the proper way to wear the outfit. The only thing off was that I did have makeup on, and I was wearing a very seductive perfume. I figured he would know it was me by my scent. I think real Nuns are forbidden from wearing anything that enhances their appearance. I am not a real Nun though.

My head kept its gaze to the floor, walking into the confessional that I was instructed to sit in. A little shock was that there was a prayer candle, a lighter, and some holy water inside. Something told me this was going to be a very deviant act. I will admit that I am worried about the afterlife now. I was about to be paid for something so deviant, so morally wrong, that I knew I would rot in hell for it.

A slide of the window and this voice spoke softly. He wasn’t the devil. He was a human being, but was he a Father? A Priest? God, what if I was about to speak filthy to a Man of the cloth.

“In the name of the Father, and the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was never.”

I heard the sigh from the other side. Maybe he wanted me to be Catholic. I’m not of any faith, so this would all be new to me. I went to church as a child, but never as an adult. I felt my life choices wouldn’t be accepted, and I never went back. I am sure my parents are not understanding that.

“I want you to take the rosary and insert the beads one at a time in your asshole. You will leave the cross to hang. You will feel it pressing against your flesh. Do it now!”

His voice changed a bit. When I think later, I will claim that Satan at this point entered his body and was commanding through him. I know this is not possible, but I honestly then felt I was sitting with the Devil himself.

Spitting on the beads, I pushed the first one in my asshole, each one felt rough to the touch, and as though it was ripping into my anal cavity. I was sure this was just my mind working overtime here. How could this man afford this? I was thinking the entire time that maybe he has stolen my fee from the collection basket. He was getting off with a whore and using the money that the church collected for the homeless, and the sick. I am a fucking sinner!

“Father, it’s in. All of the beads are in my ass and the cross is resting on my vagina.”

I just said vagina to a holy man. My mind was calling me every filthy name ever created.

“Take the prayer candle and slid it in your cunt. Fucking your sin slit with it. Now Sister.”

What the hell was wrong with this Man? He was making me fuck my whore pussy with something that had been blessed and placed there to resolve the sins of the lost. I did as I was told, and the moment that slender white pillar candle pushed through my tight slit, I felt a release. I came. How the fuck does one cum this way? Placing my hand to my mouth, I whimpered through to rush of sin that flooded my body, not wanting to alert anyone of my deviance. I could hear his jacking off in the other confessional. He was raping his cock with his hand, fucking himself to my sickness.

“You came, whore? You came all over the Father?”

I admitted to my sin, and that’s when it went silent for a moment. My door opened quietly and this Priest stood before me. Pushing my head back, looking down into my face, his cock was placed right on my lips. He was hard as a rock and his face. Oh god, his face was evil. It was pure evil.

Opening my mouth, he shot his cum right there on my tongue. It was scalding hot and tasted horrid. I never had tasted anything like it in the past. I hope to never taste it again.

“I absolve you of all your sins, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen”

Leaning down, he lit the candle that was still inside of my pussy, and he was gone. I don’t know if I did this with a real Priest, but I feel as though something unholy went through my body that night. Something so dreadful that I will forever burn in hell. Funny thing is, I never came like that in the past. Never had I felt like I was completely on fire.

The post Blasphemy At It’s Finest appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

The moment I heard the news, I knew what I needed to do.

It’s cookie season and it was time to brush off the old uniform. Sure, it fits a little tighter now, but that will just increase the sales of those beloved mint delights. They were always my favorite, but how many men out there would be willing to buy them from me? A lot is what I counted on.

I’ve noticed the dirty looks the women in my neighborhood have given me lately. The more the men look, the angrier their wives become. Little do they know, I am not the bitch to play with. I will fuck your husband and kick the dog on the way out. Ask Debbie across the street. She now knows for a fact that her husband is a real cookie monster.

I watched her as she left. She always hits the gym after the kids go to school. Her husband works nights, so he would be asleep on the couch with his hand on his dick. Maybe he’s protecting it from that viper bitch. She’s not ugly, but that smile will make a man shrivel and die. It’s as phony as those tits protruding from her chest.

I wouldn’t consider myself stunning, but I have one thing most don’t. Confidence. A man isn’t safe around the neighborhood succubus. One last look in the mirror at my uniform and I let out a demonic laugh. God! This poor man will be a shell when the bitch comes home. Drained, drooling, and damaged beyond repair.

First rule of being married. Do not allow another woman in the house even if she has a delicious box of cookies. You will never know if their a succubus until you find your balls empty and begging for mercy. You see, I can’t get enough. You may cum once, but I demand multiple explosions. I am a greedy bitch when it comes to another woman’s man.

Knocking on the front door the moment her car was out of sight, the man of the house grumbled and groaned until he opened the door.

“Excuse me, Sir, but your wife sent me over to sell you some cookies,” I laughed.

He didn’t bother inviting me in. Honestly, he didn’t need to. I pushed past the man, stopping only to call his forward with the use of my finger. A quick curl brought him to sit on the couch, his mouth wide open in complete awe.

As his eye drank in every single inch, I fought the urge to laugh, but lost it in the end. It was the panic of his furrowed brows that did it.

“Shhh, not then, I have to sell all my cookies to get a new badge. You see, I want to be the biggest whore on the block for the third year in a row. So, you’ll buy them all and devour my pussy between each bite. Now be a good boy for me,” cackling, the laughter flowed so easy with this one.

My skirt already short, I pulled the front up showing him the sheer panties beneath. He salivated a dribble of fluid from the corners of his mouth, my hand pulling him forward. I know the aromatic beauty of my pussy, pushing his face against the soft fabric. His breath warm and my panties wet. The combination sent wicked chills through my body. I don’t allow much to affect me, but barrowing a husband caught me by surprise.

“My wife,” he groaned.

“Fuck your wife. Wait, fuck a real pussy instead. Fuck me,” laughing.

Grabbing his hands, I pulled him up, almost dragging him to the bedroom. If I fuck him, I will do it right. The cum stain his wife finds on the bed won’t be hers, it will be mine.

Did I fuck him? What do you think?

The post Succubus Girl Scout With Intoxicating Cookies appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

“How the hell did I end up here?”

Gypsy, 32, had a death wish of sorts. A lover of all things spooky, when she found the flyer at her work for a tour of cemeteries, she was instantly excited. So much so that her nipples strained against the silk blouse she wore. Placing her arm over the front of her shirt, it was too late.

“So you going to that?” Bob asked.

Bob was the office hound. He would fuck anything that let him and had many times over. Most of the girls in the office stayed as far away from him as they could. The only good thing about Bob was that his dick was always hard. If you needed a quick relief, he was the one guy you wished never had a big mouth after you fucked. Gypsy knew better after her friend Sasha was on the receiving end of one of his wild office sex stories. Sure, she did it but never realized that he would tell everyone, including her boss. After a write-up, lecture, and a blow job, she kept her job.

Holding tight to the paper, Gypsy shook her head, knowing she was already excited about the spooky night in the cemetery. Salem had some of the nicest ones, and yet, all of them claimed to hold the bodies of burned witches and other creatures or the night. The few times she ventured into one, it was daylight, and she was never alone. According to the flyer, each person was to walk in alone, and they would wait five minutes before the next.

“I can’t wait. I love this kind of stuff. Well, I got to go. Sorry Bob, but I need to work,” Gypsy said, walking away quickly.

The following Friday, standing at the gate of the most notorious cemetery in Salem, Massachusetts, Vanessa waited with the crowd for the attraction to open. Small talk back and forth, the one person she noticed missing was Bob, the office horn dog. She was sure he would show up but hoped she was long gone before he was. Seeing that man after hours wasn’t anything she wanted.

“Gypsy, you’re next. Remember to stay on the path, follow the signs, and oh yeah, don’t believe anything you see. The ghost’s come here to make you lose your mind,” he laughed. The man was none other than the CEO of the company she worked for and a well-known practical joker. For a man in his 40’s, he loved to play little mind-twisting games.

“HAHA, I will make sure to bring one back to work with me next week,” she said, her lashes batting at the affluent male. He was a catch, and she wanted to be the cat to lure him closer.

As she stood at the open gate looking down at herself, Gypsy was glad that she wore a simple pair of jeans, a red hoodie, and her favorite pair of running shoes. If she needed to outrun the spirit world, at least, she was dressed for it.

The old burying point, otherwise known as the charter street cemetery, was the haunt location. As Gypsy walked down the pebble path, she noticed the age of the graves the first time. Back then, they believed in marking the graves with sizeable above ground stones. Most of them in perfect shape. There was the very few with small crumbling age spots. Most of these people were buried back when you did not forget the dead.

“Gypsy,” called the wind.

Stopping, the young woman looked around, her body covering with chills. The place was finally starting to get to her. Twenty minutes in, she had never felt so alone in her entire life.

“Hello? Whose out there? This isn’t funny,” she whispered,” shaking, she wrapped her arms around herself.

Rusting from behind one of the oldest graves in the place sent Gypsy in a tailspin as she took no chances, running into an ancient mausoleum on a small hill. Stopping at the door, her heels digging into the earth, the last thing she wanted was to make that first step inside. Phantom, heavy breathing behind her, opened the door and forced her inside the small brick building.

Pushing her body back into a small alcove, the shadow of whoever called to her filled the entire opening to the room.

“Gypsy, come out and play with me,” called the voice.

That was the first time she realized who it was. Her boss and CEO had followed her through the cemetery to scare her. No wonder he was the one at the gate.

Sliding out of the hole she was tucked away in, Gypsy couldn’t help but laugh the moment she saw a man standing in a wolf mask, his hands reached out for her.

“Oh, has the giant nasty wolf monster chased the little girl into the darkroom? Are those teeth going to eat me?” she taunted.

Pulling her forward, that man in the mask groped at her clothing, ripping her pants down in a rushed manner. He took her red silk panties along for the ride.

“Oh fuck, are you going to devour me now, Mr. Wolfie?” Gypsy asked.

As he pushed her to the ground, the monster looked down with a sinister growl. Pulling his zipper down, pulling out the biggest cock she had ever seen, he took no time to crawl between her legs. He was not only going to fuck her, but he was soiling hallowed ground. One thrust, and he forced that monster dick inside of her dripping pussy, slamming balls deep inside the young woman. His grunts animalistic, he pounded through her slippery wet pussy walls with a force that inched her towards one to the crypts, bracing her body so she couldn’t escape. Not that she was trying to go anywhere. Fucking her boss was something she always wanted.

“Oh fuck, god damn, fuck me harder, wolfman,” she cried.

As he pulled back to the head each time, the monster slammed deeper into her puffy lips, stretching them open to mold to his dick. He was insane with lust, and she wanted nothing more than to cum all over his cock before someone found them.

Deep grunts, the monster forced his way in, both of them crying out in a painful cry of lust. Anyone walking by would think it was sound effects for the scary event.

Both of them shaking, the monster in the wolf mask pulled back, pulling his pants up before standing over the cum soaked woman. With an evil cackle of laughter, he pulled the mask off, tossing it onto the well-used woman on the ground.

“You wouldn’t fuck me in the office, but now I know your kink. Scare the shit out of you, and your panties come off,” Bob said, walking out with a new story to tell the office on Monday morning.

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Have you ever had that one moment that you will never forget? I do. I like being an exhibitionist, but this wasn’t me this time. This was my phone sex caller. He did the unthinkable and damn, was it funny for me. Maybe not for him though.

Imagine it’s after work and you have a long drive home, but your dick is saying otherwise. It’s throbbing from the office girl teasing all day, and driving is almost impossible. What do you do? Cause an accident or pull over at a rest stop and handle the problem. The choice is yours.

I’ve done plenty of calls with this man, but this was a first. Right off the top I could hear that he was on the highway, and got worried. He assured me he was pulling over and would be fine, but still, something tingled inside of me that should have been a warning. We flirted until he stopped and then the call got heated. I gave him some JOI (jack off instructions), and he tuned out the world around him. My voice can be hypnotic.

Everything was going great until a knock on the window changed all that. Yep, it was a cop doing a wellness check on my caller. What do you think he did? Wrong. He kept me on the line and sat the phone down for me to listen.

My exhibitionist was in trouble.

The cop knew what he was doing. I could hear it in the tone of his voice. Instead of just walking away or telling him to stop, he decided to fuck with him. My caller had to do a field sobriety check and even show the coffee he was drinking was just that. Coffee. Thank God for the mute button. I have never laughed so hard in my life.

This entire encounter with the cop took about 10 minutes, but it was probably the worst and scariest 10 minutes of his life. After being assured that he was okay, the cop left with a warning to move on. Did he? Nope. He finished the call, grabbed that orgasm, and then went home. After all that he deserved it, and I got a memory that I will never forget.

So, beware of where you jerk off. Cops are out there looking for you naughty exhibitionist bandits.

The post Exhibitionist Public Solo Sex and Getting Caught appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Disclaimer: A story of Kitten and her Master. This is not about me, but erotic all the same. Enjoy.

I have this dream that last night developed into something so intense I ripped the sheets off my bed. Not getting properly laid in a year is driving me to the brink of insanity. I know the man I am dreaming of, but I won’t say his name out loud. I can’t. He tastes like arsenic every time I even think of him. There is something so forbidden inside of me I can’t even fathom letting another man touch me. Not when I know, even without a touch, I know that no one could ever satisfy my needs again.

“Don’t you fucking dare come into my dream again tonight,” I warned. As my hand pulled the corner of the sheets tight, I smoothed out the linen to a flawless surface. Clean sheets are a little kink of mine. Sleeping naked feels incredible when the bed is freshly made. Pink with the tiniest of dots, everything about my bed screams female. Why not? I allow no one into my bedroom. It’s the one place where I feel the most at home.

The lights off, I opened the veranda doors to a gust of ocean air, sending chills up and down my spine. “Fuck,” whimpering, the kiss of salt now coating my lips. There is no place in the world that I love more than the beach. I guess you can say I am a fish out of water and need to stay close to home. My eyes stayed on the beach as my hands moved to remove the long white t-shirt I slipped on after a bath. Up and off, the view from the beach would give anyone a shock, but sadly, there was no one out. Yes, I am sorta an exhibitionist at heart. I left the doors open wide before slipping between the comforter and the sheets. Most people would call this a touch of insanity, but I called it hopeful. I guess there is a part of me that believes he will find his way in and show me what a little slut I really am. The other part of me fears his appearance. I’m not sure why, but there is something so mysterious about this man.

Eyes closing, the sounds of the ocean crashing on the shore, in the distance the songs migrating whales are finding their way home. There is a place where the mind lives when you’re almost asleep. A twilight state that allows everything you ever denied creeping in and scratches the back of your brain.

A weight shift on the bed, the side closest to the open door indenting. The scent of his cigarettes filling the room, the one he held in his hand freshly lit. Hitting the cancer stick, his blue hues filling with amusement. He smiled from his eyes more than his mouth. As the tip glowed the hottest shade of red, he rolled it slightly over the bare thigh that lured him in. His lips curl as the flesh heats, forcing a slight moan.

“Wake up little, Kitten,” he growled.

Soft moans. I knew he was there. My entire body was heating from the touch of that coffin nail that he perched between his lips.

“Stop,” I lied. I called him in my dreams, so asking him to stop was a complete and utter lie. Wanting more, not less. I wanted him to push that cigarette into my flesh and force the screams to rip from my throat. God, what is wrong with me?

“Beg me to stop,” he laughed, the same cigarette now resting on my left ass cheek.

“No! I don’t beg anyone,” I snapped. Whimpering at the cherry tip that heated my flesh. I swear I could almost smell my skin branding from the warmth.

Laughter filled the small room, the windows shaking from the force. He knew better than that. She would drop to her knees and beg him if he demanded it, but knowing she was denying herself amused him even more. Maybe it was her age or lack of proper training, but if he fucked her, she would know better next time. Snuffing the cigarette out, his hand moved up the center of her back, knotting in the glowing strands of her blond hair. The way the moon seeped through the open door cast a small halo around her head. She was no angel. Ripping her head back, forcing the slender curve of her neck to arch, his laughter was short-lived.

“Liar. You don’t beg me to stop because you want to feel it all, don’t you?” whispering, his teeth grabbing the shell of her ear. “Liars go to hell, Kitten,” adding.

“Stop it, I don’t like my hair pulled,” whining. Every fiber of my being ignited with want. I wanted him to fuck me more than I wanted air to breathe, but saying that wasn’t easy. I pride myself on being a strong female, so this was causing my stomach to knot. “Why the fuck are you doing this?” I asked.

Silence, the only sound in the room, his breaths. Laced with fine hairs, he held his fist tight. A ponytail of hair kept captive by his weather-beaten hands. “Beg me to fuck you,” he said again, this time his voice holding a hint of anger.

Screams inside of my head telling me to say no, but the only words that formed on my lips came out in rapid pants of want. “Fuck me. Please, fuck me,” I cried. God dammit, there it was. The truth always comes out in the end, even when you fight its appearance.

“See there, Kitten. Was that so hard?” he said. His voice filled with sarcasm. He knew the truth. Hell, he could smell the sweetness of her pussy when he wanted in the room.

“Roll over on your stomach and stretch your hands to the head of the bed. Hold it tight and do not release it. After that, stretch your legs until they hang from either side of the mattress,” he growled.

“Oh my god,” whimpering, I didn’t want to spread my legs. I knew I was soaked and as soon as I peeled my thighs apart, he would know as well. Feeding his ego is not what I want tonight. As my pulse quickened, I rolled to my stomach, reaching out and catching the fabric with the tips of my fingers. Next, my legs pushed apart to the sides of the bed, curling the arch of my feet around the ledge. “There, are you happy?” I snapped.

A sharp exhale and he moved to the open space between her legs. Looking down, her lips glistened with moisture. She was sopping wet. “Do not move at all. Do not twitch your body in any direction. If you do I will go back out the door I came in and you will never see me again. Do you understand?” he asked.

My chin resting on the bed, I whispered, “I understand.” God damn, what was he going to do to me? I’m not scared, but every sense in my body’s heightened and on a high stage of alert. I closed my eyes to allow my body to calm down and accept what he was going to do to me.

“Good, Kitten,” he growled. Leaning down, he brushed the stubble on his chin over her ass cheeks. Smirking with little prickles of lust formed on her skin. She was dying, and he knew at that moment the level of control he had over her. Breathing through his mouth to let blankets of warm air kiss her flesh, the anticipation of her moving delighted him. Would he leave if she did? You’re goddamn right he would. A woman needs to learn who is in control.

“Please,” I whispered.

Retracting his hand, he licked the palm before slapping her ass with full force. She needed to learn patience. As the outline of his hand formed on her fleshy cheek, he moved his chin down to brush back and forth over her swollen lips. The spike bristles of a few day’s growth just scratching the surface of her mound. A large calloused hand on each ass cheek, pulling her apart to view his entire meal. “Looks good enough to eat,” grunting, he buried his face in the middle of her ass. Sliding his tongue up and down her backside, he stopped when he found the small starfish opening to her asshole. A push against the rim. His hands tightened on her cheeks, indenting the skin with the molds of his fingers.

I blacked out the moment his tongue probed my ass. God damn, son of a bitch, I could cum from ass play alone. Most women lied and said they hated it, but I know I wanted it all. I will never turn down a punishing ass fuck. Slowly opening my mouth, I gripped the sheets with my teeth to silence the moans that threatened to spill from my lips. I didn’t want him to stop and took no chances.

As his rough chin rested against her lips, his tongue fucked her ass, each time pushing the tip into her core. A rough rake of his teeth over the outer rim. He wanted to devour every inch of this woman. Back and forth he shook his face, her pussy lips covered with invisible scars from his scruff. Resting his chin on the palm of his hand, he waited. His eyes on the slowly parting lips, he waited until a trickle of honey slipped from her pulsating cunt. A strike of his tongue with lightning speed, and the sugar was gone. Devoured like a snake taking a victim of his very own. It was the first time he tasted her cunt, but it wouldn’t be his last. The scent is an aphrodisiac, but the taste, pure addiction.

“Please fuck me,” I begged. Yes, I begged. He wanted me to beg him to touch me and I am no longer afraid to do that. An hour ago I would have laughed in his face, but right now, I would sell my soul to the Devil for one night with him.

“No!” he laughed, sliding from the bed. He stood at the edge, looking down. Go to sleep and you may not cum until I tell you so. Good night, Kitten,” he said, slipping out the way he came in.

I rolled to my back, shocked, as I watched the drapes blow in the wind. “Fuck you, goddamn you,” I cried, knowing sleep wouldn’t come for me tonight. He left me high and wanting another touch from him.

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Would it shock you to know that growing up I wanted to be a Nun? I guess some wouldn’t understand, but then again, either do I. It wasn’t for religious reasons, but more because I have a deviant mind. Pushing the limits seemed to be something that I had to do. Some will find this disturbing, but others might be able to relate to having an over active imagination.

Deviant: Departing from usual or accepted standards, especially in social or sexual behavior.

I started church at a young age. It was what upstanding people did. All week they live a sinful life and on Sunday let the Power Of Christ was away their deviant sins. I attended Holy Innocence Catholic Church with a friend of mine from school. She was what they now call non-binary, but back then I didn’t know what that mean. To me she was a tomboy. I guess I was a little bit of one too. I enjoyed playing in the mud and building forts as well. Barbies changed all that a few years later.

My deviant behavior started on day one. It was innocent enough. When that little basket came around to add the money for the church, I made a withdrawal. My parents didn’t send me with any cash and there was a little store on the way home. In my defense, they did pass it around and the money was just laying there. My friend watched but didn’t take anything. She knew better, but did enjoy the wealth after church when we bought candy. It was never a lot of money. Five bucks at the most, but my deviant mind didn’t stop there.

I admit, curiosity killed the cat when it comes to me. 

For years that’s all that it was, but then something happened. After graduation things took a turn for the better or worse? You decide. Suddenly the thought of church had a different effect on me. By then I learned that Nuns and Priests were forbidden from having sexual relationships. Honestly, not being able to cum would have killed me. I was a chronic masturbator and not a day went by that I didn’t cum. Not really too deviant, but I am sure God wouldn’t approve.

That’s when I really had to know. Do they enjoy the sins of the flesh, or are they really as uptight as they look. I found out the following Sunday that they were human after all. It was all by accident, but I call it divine intervention. It was Christmas Eve and I had already started working in the phone sex business. It was paying for college, so I thought God would forgive me.

My first call of the evening was from Canada. Nothing off there, but what did get my attention was the fact that he said he was a Priest and service would start soon. He wanted to cum before he welcomed the parishioners in for the evening. Honestly, I thought he was lying, but that wasn’t the case.

Is it bad that I made a Priest cum?

In a small room off of the main church this man whispered that he wanted me to give him JOI. That’s jack off instructions for anyone who doesn’t know. At first I hesitated, but then I grabbed my rosary rubbing the beads and told this man to stroke his filthy deviant cock. He did. I could hear it. Right as he was about to cum, I made him say the Lords Prayer and cum into his hand. When he asked what could he do with the seed, I knew right away. The church bells were ringing and the power I felt inside of me made me tremble.

“Go out to the entrance of the church and wash your hand off in the vessel of holy water!”

(By the way, this is a true story and it happened to me.)

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A blasphemy fantasy might scare some, but I am the kind of girl who finds the spiritual side of life taboo. Growing up, having my knuckles whacked with a ruler, and told my soul was going to Hell. I don’t scare easily, and I have my dress picked out for my first dance with the Devil.

Sighing out loud, it was Sunday morning, and I had missed Mass again. It was becoming a sad routine for me. I had even laid out a dress, heels, and stockings on the chair by the bed. Of course, my bible rested on the top of that pile. I never go to church without it. I have written in the side notes through the pages, but I added pictures to go along with the verses I love.

A temptress can lead a Man to temptation. One look into her eyes and she will force you from grace and be your guide to Hell. My notes in this area come with pictures that show acts of blasphemy and whispers of how the Devil’s temptations taunt us.

As I sat on the edge of the bed, my long red nails traveled through the pages of ancient times. I got lost for a moment in my latest blasphemy fantasy.

“Sister Gypsy, what have you been doing inside for so long?”

The young Nun had been in the confessional for an hour now, the line outside growing. On the cusp of the holy season. The church had been preparing for the influx of parishioners.

Settled back in the tiny wooden room, the prayer candle now worked in and out of her holy hole. On the other hand, Father Jacob had blown four loads inside the small confines of the booth. What would happen if found?

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been a day since my last confession, and last night, I did something horrible. I am ashamed and need forgiveness for my sins.”

Father Jacob had since pulled his dick from beneath the robe. The bible is now on the floor and collecting drops of his precum on the pages. Fluid leaked as he stroked and listened to the new Nun tell her about her miss deeds and failures.

“I left my room at 3 am to get a drink of water from the kitchen. Walking by Father Michael’s room, I heard the sounds of lust. He was calling out for women. Vile words came from his room, and I thought I could help him. Help him sleep through the suffering.”

She went on to tell of how she entered the room and found him pounding away at his fist. He was jerking off and calling out all the names of the Nuns in the parish. Her hand was now rubbing her clit hard, soaking her fingers to the knuckles.

“Sister Gypsy, please! People are waiting for this room!”

The Mother Superior was getting quite agitated with her. She needed to confess what she had done with the Father and how she had lived out her blasphemy fantasy.

“Father, he was in so much pain. His penis engorged with fluids. I tried to help by stroking him. My fingers were wrapping around the thick, elongated shaft. The more I pumped, the harder he got. That’s when he suggested I place him in my mouth and take communion from him.”

The Father was now stroking harder as the Nun explained the events of her first blow job how she tried so hard but couldn’t get him to blow a load.

“At first, I licked him. Long strokes up and down his cock. Then he suggested that I take him deep into my mouth. I almost cried when his hand forced my head down. He was so hard and beastly. His member was raging.”

She massaged over her wetness, forcing the candle in and out of her pussy. She was supposed to be a virgin, but the night before had taken that. She lost her virginity to the Father, who she tried to help the night before. The white pillar candle that she now used still had traces of red staining.

As I sat on the bed writing this, I knew that I would be going to Hell in the afterlife. How could I not? Everything about this was wrong, but I could see it all in my mind while writing it.

“Father Michael was in horrible pain. He asked me to place him inside of my womanhood. To allow his cock to break my bindings with God. I wore my wedding ring as I grabbed his cock. When I wrapped my fingers around him and inserted him in the seal, I felt my finger burning. I know that God was watching me and casting stones on me. Oh, God, Father Jacob, I allowed him inside of me fully!”

The Father in the booth coaxed her to go on. She knew he was jerking off. She could hear his hand rubbing over his dick. He was bringing himself to orgasm after orgasm with her dirty words.

“I’m scared, though, Father. He pushed all the way in and relieved himself. He told me I would be carrying his baby now. A child would be inside of me, and I would have to hide it from the others. How, Father, how can I hide his child? I can’t do this. I wanted to help him, and he gave me a baby.”

Her words stopped as she finally came. She knew she was pregnant with his child and that blasphemy fantasy made her pussy squirt. Sister Gypsy had come where there should never be filth.”

Replacing the candle on the wall and pulling her robe down, the young Nun, still flush-faced and ran from the room. She told them she was ill and had fallen asleep in the arms of the lord. Of course, no one can fault her for that. Jesus is where she should feel safe.

Exhaling deep, my hand slid into the dresser to my right. My favorite dildo now in my hands. If I couldn’t go to church, I would pray at home. Taking the rosary beads from the nightstand, I dipped them in lube and bead, by bead, I slid them into my asshole. Only the cross was showing when done. It rested on my asshole and tickled a little.

The bible laying now on my stomach, I shivered from the power behind it. I know the words hold so much to them that instead of watching porn, I held the book up and read. Hell is where I was going when I slid that dick inside of me. That fake one that felt like a dagger plunging into my core. How deviant can one fall before worried? I will let you know when I find out.

“Our Father, thou art in heaven.”

She moaned out. The words never held a lot of meaning until now. I was soaking wet from this. I was saturated so much that the tiny replica of Jesus that hung out of my ass made wet slaps. Would God forgive me for this one? Would he chalk it all up to a blasphemy fantasy? Or would he shove me down to the fire pits of Hell and let me rot?

Clenching my cheeks around the threaded beads, my cunt exploded into a river of lust. Not before I placed the bible between my legs and caught all the splattering juices. I have never in my life came with that intensity or power. All I needed was for the control of Christ to compel me. Shaking as I laid in the bed of body fluids, lust, and sin, I couldn’t quite understand how I came that intense and how Sister Gypsy had affected me that deep. Was my blasphemy fantasy taking my soul?

Fear is what I used to feel from a blasphemy fantasy, but something inside of me changed. I now feel as though it is the one thing that makes me feel the most alive. Realizing that I have already sealed my fate could be the reason. My spot on the throne of Hell is waiting for me. No longer will I fear what controls me. I will embrace it. I know that I am never going to heaven, so why fight it?

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