(This is part of a book I am writing on submission. I fully understand some of you will be offended, but reverse the role. What if the kitten was male? Could you do it)

Master decided that friends of his would spend some time tonight doing a little kitten training. When I think of that, the first thing that comes to mind is the tv show My Cat From Hell. I can only imagine what would happen if the host stopped by for some obedience training. I didn’t let Master know that I giggled over this. His humor is more black and white, well, with me, at least.

Before he sent me away for the evening, a collar adorned my neck along with a new leash. It was not the kind of collar that signified anything other than I am a Kitten, but it brought tears to my eyes. I felt the love of this man the moment he tightened the buckle around my neck and handed the leash to the woman. The female laced the leash in her fingers, pointed to the ground, and let it be known that I was not worthy of walking on two legs. On my hands and knees across the grass, not stopping until we reached the cottage door. Even then, I was not to stand. Some would call this act humiliating, and in many ways, it is, but the life of a kitten is the life of devotion.

If you can imagine the sounds that come from a cat with a full belly of milk, that was me the moment the leash tightened around my throat. A female showing dominance is a beautiful sight for a woman like me. Though I am not the kind who could ever wrap my delicate fingers around the leather, I do appreciate those that can. A quick yank to my neck brought my head back and my eyes on the most beautiful creature. Lovely raven hair, eyes, the ocean’s color, and her flawless alabaster skin almost put me into a trance. That was when I realized I would do anything in the world to please this beautiful woman. Her happiness would be the primary concern.

As the female leaned down, her crimson pout brushed lightly over my own. Was I worthy? Does it matter? She wasn’t kissing me, though, to the novice, they might assume. Her red lipstick now smeared across my lips. She was claiming what she owned, well, at least for the remainder of her stay.

“My husband needs something that I will not provide for him. Tonight, you will be the receptacle for his cum. You will not enjoy this, and if you do, I will inform your Master of your disobedience,” she said.

A simple nod of my head was all that she needed to know I understand and follow directions.

As the female walked away, she patted her side for me to follow. Slowly, I pranced across the floor, stopping as she poured herself a glass of chilled wine. Sitting on the side of the bed, she patted the corner of the firm mattress. I slithered in. My torso would lay across the mattress and my ass high in the air. I knew what they wanted. Master explained that already, but I can’t lie. Anal sex is the one act that scares me the most.

Chills moved up and down my spine when the woman placed her glass in the center of my back. Reaching down, she slowly slid my panties down to my knees. My ass is now exposed for her husband to see. I’m not a mind reader, but I was sure he was already hard.

“Do not move a muscle. If this glass spills, so shall your tears. Do you understand me?” she asked.

Once again, a simple nod of my head. She did not need me to explain with words. My motion was apparent enough.

Dipping her fingers in the glass, she pulled the dripping digits out and allowed the fluid to dribble down the crack of my ass, pooling in the entrance. It took all I had not to shake, but her threats reminded me of who and what I am.

With a hand on either side of my ass, she pulled my cheeks apart for her husband to view. I admit this was the point that I pushed my head into the bed and clamped my teeth on the thick bed covering. I’ve never endured anal sex, and this was indeed not how I expected my first time to go.

The female left the glass on my back, her hands pulling me apart, and her husband pressing the massive mushroom head against my tiniest opening. Without any lube other than the trickle of wine, he pushed in slowly—neither of us wanting the wine to spill.

Tears rolling down my face, I cried from the pain of his entrance into my ass. I’m not sure if it would hurt more if it were harder or slower. Either one, the searing pain the tore through my body was euphoric. A sickness inside of me feels that the pain inflicted is the reward for a job well done. I am not sure that this matters for me, but I think I am a terrible little kitten for not begging him to stop for a brief second. My pain endurance is higher than most.

With a soft stroke to my hair, the woman never spoke a word, but I assume this was her version of praise. His cock took no time in exploding inside of my ass. The moment he pulled back, his wife pushed my ass cheeks closed.

“Stay still, Kitten. Hold the walls closed, and do not spill a drop. My husband is taking me to dinner, and we expect you to be where we left you upon our return. You’ve done well for your first time. I will bring you a kitty bag when we return,” she said.

I am a good girl and follow directions, but the desire to be disobedient just once is strong. Not tonight, though. Tonight, I remain the favorite.

Love and scratches,

Kitten

The post Master loans his kitten out for the evening appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

(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.

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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.

What make a person a whore? Is it a large amount of sexual partners, or maybe the fact that she accepts money for services rendered. Either way, it is the oldest profession in the world, and whether done virtually (phone) or in person, it’s one heck of a job.

Have you ever fucked a Whore?

If you have, would you admit it? I’ve talked to over 3000 people in the last year and only a small handful admit that they have paid for in person sexual services. Most of the ones who have do so because one reason. Menopause. The wife doesn’t give or perform sexual acts and they feel lacking. Though to do not condone cheating, I do understand the need for release. For some women the pause in sex is temporary, but for others, they never feel the need again. Most could regain it with medication, but as I have witnessed, most take it as a sign their martial duties are done.

So, you’ve decided to see a professional. First you need to decide whether it’s in person, or a phone sex girl. I am honestly suggestion the later. Think about it, it’s safe if you’re smart. A throw away debit card and you’re set. I always suggest that people use those non-traceable cards when using a dial in company. As for the best, I am going to suggest niteflirt because nothing us given to a real life person. All of your information is stored in their secure server. Easy peasy, right?

Usually a phone whore will have limits, but there is a sexual kink out there for everyone. In my research in person meetings are not always the safest route to take. Not only is there a risk for an STD, but there are many girls/guys out there who are not as they seem. I’ve heard the horror stories that will always keep in the safety of my home whispering seduction into the phone.

“Have you ever swallowed your own semen?”

“Would you like too?”

“I promise to never tell a soul that you at cum for me.”

So, have you? Let’s be honest here, everyone has tasted it at least once by choice or accident. Whether you ate a cream pie, swiped a little off the tip, or kissed her after she swallow, you tasted cum. I’m amused by the men who adamantly claim that it would be an act of homosexuality to get a little in your mouth. If swallowing my own cum means I am gay, sign me up.

Remember boys, we always recycle.  

The post Is a Whore a Trash Can for Cum? appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Did you enjoy the kinky little snippet of one of my funniest calls? I’ve been ask to tell the rest of it, so here goes the entire story. You might want to get a drink and prepare yourself for the kink that this man indulged in. I don’t shock easy, but this time, I was thankful for the mute button. I used it often.

It was Christmas time, and like all good girls, I was waiting by the phone to hand out the gift of orgasms. Big, little, expensive, and cheap, who doesn’t love to cum? When the phone rang, I thought nothing of it, well, until the sounds of Christmas music blared through the phone. My first thought was someone was someone is in the spirit. The moment he spoke, I knew this was going to be the call of a lifetime.

My Kinky Elf had arrived.

There is a distinct sound to some /little people/, and his voice was just that. The Elf explained how he was dressed in green velvet with the hat, shoes, and even the pointed ears. I found myself drawn into the Christmas magic, well, until he explained the whole roleplay to me. That’s where this all went 50 shades of wrong. I will explain this as he did to me.

“Wweee the North Pole has been busy this year. So many good boys and girls. Santa seems to be spending a lot of time going over his list, so as his number one Elf, I get the job of taking care of the reindeer. I must say the Vixen is looking quite good, but Rudolph, his antlers are going so big and strong. I’ve massaged them, and taken good care of him in hopes that he will take good care of me. His soft velvet feels so good you know.

The taboo aspects of this story might shock you.

I was to play that famous reindeer while he bent over and wiggled his elf ass. Bare as the day he was born, his tushy begging for my soft velvet antlers to rub around his soft flesh. I teases and taunted him, but believe me, a strapon has nothing of a stern thrust of antlers in your ass. He screamed and came while “Santa Clause is cumming to town played. Kinky enough for you? Are you ready to be pegged?

DISCLAIMER: NO animals were involved in this story. It was simply a reindeer headband worn by a HUMAN. Don’t get twisted. I’m not that freaky.

The post A Kinky Elf Needs The Help Of A Seductive Woman appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Forced feminization is no longer in the closet. Many woman started dressing their sons in female clothing as a child, but not for reasons one might think. Every woman, well, the majority of them want to relive their young years by dressing up their Barbie dolls. Having a son means one thing. Ken is going to be a little on the feminine side from time to time. Wearing panties or even stockings does not make you gay, but even if you are, there is nothing to be ashamed of.

Forced Feminization is more than just a clothing change.

Growing up my best friend was a boy. Of course, I didn’t know he was gay, but he was just one of the sweetest kids. We played Barbies, house, and he even allowed me to put makeup on him. I guess I should have known when he stole all my Barbie clothes and all his were Diva’s. Bitch! Anyways, I learned so much from him. I guess you could say I learned to be Dominate using forced feminization on him. In the secret room over his garage he learned to wear female clothing and I learned that boys love their ass played with. That’s for another time and place though.

Panties are usually the first thing a boy goes after. From the feel to the smell, those little under garments can be the focus of many male lives. Stealing from family is the most common, but I’ve known a few that have stolen from friends and neighbors as well. A visit to a friends house for dinner and stealing the wife or daughters undies is more common than you think. Once they slip them on there is no turning back. The way the cock and balls feels all snug in the fabric is enlightening. What does shock most is how good they really look wearing them. Almost like a girl.

What happens though when you don’t want to go back to being a “boy”?

Don’t. Flat out become who you want. The world is ever changing and though some would say a mess right now, be who you want to be. Embrace the change. Slip on the panties, stockings, and bra. Become the Woman you should have been born, or enjoy all of this with a forced feminization specialist who will guide the way. There is nothing I enjoy more than to stay home and play dress up, so why not paint my nails and I will paint yours.

Now, let’s flip that switch. You hate the clothing, the life, and being forced to wear clothing that takes you from one gender to another. What happens. One of two things. You’re either man enough to say no, or you reluctantly accept that I know what’s best for you. Remember that boy I told you about? He learned to love the life I built for him, though at first, he was scared. It took a long time to accept his new lifestyle and the fact that he was gay. Sometimes you need to be forced to find the right path for you. Are you ready? I have a shopping list waiting for our next play date.

The post Forced Feminization or building my own Barbie appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

What makes a woman crave BBC? I have never been a fan or sought out a particular race for sexual needs. I know this might sound racist, but it’s the complete opposite. That was all true until I met Michael. His filthy black dick made me a believer.

Bent over the frozen section at the store, the moment I felt someone bump me from behind, I know. I should have slapped Michael, but the meat hit me in the ass instead. Holy Mary, Mother of God! I got slapped on the ass by 10 inches of limp dick. Now I am not saying I approved of this, but it was shocking. Before I looked behind me, I gave my ass a little wiggle. You know, to tease him.

“Excuse me, but your dick is touching my ass!”

Lame line, but it did make me laugh. Michael did too, but not so much that he didn’t give me that look. You know that look. The one that implies that he is going to rip my perfect white cunt wide open. His dark skin made me tingle, and I wanted him. I was even willing to give this man a free ride. We all know that’s saying a lot for me. My pussy might like big dick, but I like money more.

BBC made me swim in a chocolate ocean.

He took my phone and took my number. I didn’t allow this, but he did it anyway. Unable to resist, something about this man had me aching deep inside. It could have been my walls giving me a warning of things to come. I know my pussy was throbbing. I wanted him to hurt me. Make me bleed from the force of his cock against my cervix. Sick and twisted, but I need this right now.

I left the store alone, but when I arrived home and put my food away, he called. His words were demanding. He wanted to punish me for being a stuck up little snow bunny bitch. What the fuck? At a loss for words, I was able to mumble out my address for him, knowing I shouldn’t do this. It was not okay to give a stranger your address. I knew better.

Shaking from fear when the doorbell chimed 15 minutes later, I tried not to open it. Michael pounded when it took too long. I guess this man knew that I would give in. It’s not like I need sex. It was the fact that Micheal wanted to make my whore hole a slave to his BBC.

The door opened. I couldn’t let the neighbors hear his banging. What if they called the cops. I don’t want to explain that I let this strange man come to my house. What would they think of me? What if something happened and it was in the papers? My parents would find out. God forbid the little white girl got dirty by the nasty BBC. 

His hand pressed to the oak door, dominating the wood with that massive appendage. I thought about how it would look around my throat. Would the imprints he left tell the world that my last lover was interracial? No, but a million things go through your head when you’re scared.

“You need to leave. I don’t fuck strangers, and I don’t let cocks that size inside of me,” I whispered. 

 His hand went to the back of my hair as he kicked the front door closed with a loud thud. Not the right response. His fist tightened when I resisted. It was not rape, nor was it abuse. I allowed him into my home. I knew it was wrong, but the pussy is an evil bitch when tempted by the ways of a black dominate male.

“Get the fuck on your knees and open that mouth. You need to suck my fucking dick!”

Dropped to my knees, I fumbled with his zipper, but the beast released itself. Forcing its way from his pants, his hard cock sprang forward and hit me in the face. Never in my life had I seen anything that could compare to the length or girth of that massive monster. He was one for the record books. My hand wrapped halfway round, stretching my fingers to try and meet. No way possible.

“Suck my BBC?” he demanded. 

He asked, and I complied. I flicked the tip of my tongue over the head. The slit was already seeping fluid. Viscous, the liquid was sweet. Maybe the blacker the berry line was real. At least with Michael, it was. Stretching my mouth wide, his member slipped between my lips, leaving a snail trail on my tongue. It was a burst of precum flavor and awakened my senses the moment I tasted it.

 A grasp of my dark strands and the destruction began. Inch by inch, he forced the head into my mouth and eventually down my throat. Did he care about me breathing? Noo! His cock was the one in command here. Michael was brutal with the throat fucking. He ripped into my oral cavity. The head took my breath from me as he pushed deeper into my throat. For a second, I thought I would be the first death by dick.

Gasping, my hands held his thighs as the tears ran down my cheeks. The more I cried, the harder he bucked his hips into my mouth. Mascara staining my cheeks, his cock seeped fluid down my throat, and both hands held my hair as a handle. He was going to not only destroy my pussy, but my throat too. There was a point in the assassination on my throat that I tasted blood. It pooled in my mouth, his cock plunging in with a force that made me swallow it.

“Fucking whore, stick out your goddamn tongue,” he said.

Pulling my head back with one hand, the other stroked over that thick BBC meat. He jacked his dick off. The tip swelled before that first rope of cum hit my mouth. A glob of cream laid on my tongue, but he wasn’t done. Rope after rope, he milked his cock into my mouth, on my face, and even in my hair. The scorch from the seed burned my flesh with a scarlet letter of shame. I had taken the cum of a stranger and all because he had a big black cock.

The post BBC craving finally came true appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

30 seductive secrets to give you a better insight into the life of Miss Gypsy. If you always wanted to know a dirty little secret, here they come.

Birthday: July 14th – Yes, I am a cancer, but don’t follow the signs. Sorry, I won’t entertain your astrological needs.

Where do you live: Southern California born and raised. There is no place in the world better than palm trees and sunshine.

Status: Single and NOT looking. I don’t want to get married and have children. My sanity means so much more to me that to bring a bunch of crotch critters into the world. Plus, monogamy is just not for me. I love sex too much.

Favorite color: Purple. Not the light colors, but the deep rich colors of the fall. Bonus here, fall is my favorite season.

Favorite food: Mexican. It’s hot and spicy for me, baby. Taco Tuesday is my favorite day of the week.

Religion: I’m Catholic, or was. I don’t believe there is a Sky Daddy up there waiting to send me to hell for all my sins. Sorry, I went to church growing up, but never believed in the bullshit.

Siblings: One sister a year older.

Favorite place: The ocean. In a past life I think I was a mermaid. I love spending my days at the shoreline watching the seagulls.

Occupation: Other than being sexy on the phone, I am a writer. I have 3 books out so far. No, I will not reveal my name though. Sorry. The genre of the books are mafia and horror. Oh, and a lot of smut thrown in the mix.

Turn on’s: People who are vocal in what they want. My biggest turn off would be someone who leaves everything up to me. Sure, I can tell you what I like, but come on, it’s it better that we both enjoy?

Turn off: Scat, odors, and stinky feet. Oh, and broke men. I am expensive and deserve it all.

Seductive needs should be met.

Blasphemous memory: When I was a child I believed that when you went to church and they passed the donation tray around it was okay to take some out. Another time, well, I might have given a blow job in the back row of Sunday mass.

Favorite sexual position: Doggy or on top. I love the depth of the penetration and I am a bit on the dominate side. I want to control the fuck, BUT, a real man can flip that switch.

Love Language: Learn to cuss. Cunt, whore, slut, bitch, please keep it coming. I love when someone is very vocal and not scared of offending me.

Last, but not least, I am very open minded. Being a Seductive soul, I believe that everything should be tried at least once. Why be too ashamed or scared if you’ve never even tried it. Cumming is wonderful, but cumming with someone is 100 times better.

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Anal sex is not just for women. Men love it as well. Enjoy my story of seduction and lust.

“I can’t do that. I might hurt you!”

Her client wanted her to perform anal sex on him with the heel of her shoe.

Gypsy’s voice quivered when he asked her to fuck his ass with the pointed heel of that stiletto. To push in the tip and manipulate his tiny entrance till she reached the full 5 inches inside. Was this even possible without causing damage to his anal cavity? He was paying for this, so turning him down would not be acceptable. If he told the service she worked for that she was not compliant, Gypsy would lose her job on the spot and her name in the business ruined.

“How do we proceed with this anal sex?”

Still a bit nervous, the man handed her a bottle of lubrication. He was explaining that she was to lubricate his asshole with spit! Gypsy had read about rim jobs. She always thought they would happen to her, not the other way around. At 18, she was a little taken back but knew her duties. As she leaned in, she placed delicate fingers on either side of his lower cheeks. The young girl pulled them open, her nose wrinkling a bit. She had never thought of putting tongue to ass before, but this is what he wanted.

“Ready for me, Sir?” she asked but didn’t wait for a response.

Her tongue now perched between her teeth, the first punch on his entrance was like an electrical charge. Gypsy didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t that. He was spotless in hygiene, and the hint of old spice was all she smelled. The act wasn’t as gross like she thought it would be. Curling her muscle at the tip, a push forward, and she was inside of his anal cavity. All she could think was, Oh god, she was tonguing this stranger’s asshole and not even hating it.

As Gypsy pushed in and out, the tiny hole opened for her, allowing her to go to the farthest depth her tongue could reach. That small pinch of his sphincter was the only hindrance that she felt. He was tight, but Gypsy was sure there had been more in his ass than a tongue or even a shoe. His moaning was a dead giveaway as he uttered obscenities. Her mouth ached from the consistent deepening into the anal cavity.

“Stop! Lube the heel of your shoe and slip it into my asshole. I’ll hold the chair, and you get that beautiful red heel deep in my shithole. I need a anal fucking!”

His words sent shivers up and down her spine, but Gypsy was ready. She knew that he wanted this. Was he was gay, or could this be part of a foot fetish? Either way, she rubbed the lubrication onto the heel, leaning back on the bed and lifting her foot to his asshole, resting the tip on the top of his crack. She pushed against his entrance, groaning as she pushed inside of his tight walls. Closing her eyes, Gypsy didn’t stop until the entire heel was inside. She couldn’t get any more of the shoe in his tight little starfish.

Gasping, Gypsy was amazed. This man was moaning and telling her to fuck his ass harder. What if she punctured his walls? A shoe was not a sex toy, well, she thought.

“Harder,” he screamed.

You’re sure you want it harder?” she asked.

He called out in pleasure, bringing a side of the 18-year-old that she hadn’t explored yet. With increase momentum, her foot slammed against his anus with a loud thud. Something came over her then. A part of her she hadn’t see yet emerged from the teen. A filthy-mouthed little whore!

“You fucking like it in the ass, don’t you. You’re a bitch! Take that fucking shoe in your asshole bitch boy.”

Her calf ached from the intensity of the fuck, but the pre-cum dripping from the head of his dick was a sign he was close. One more groan from him, and he lost it. Her heel pushed to the hilt, and he shot all over the chair. Rope after rope, the cum pumped from his elongated shaft. Pouring more than she had ever seen. It was mesmerizing to watch, but deep inside of the young beauty. She was quite satisfied with her first-time anal sex accomplishments.

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A Sunday Sin can be nothing but the perfect fantasy. I wrote this story to share a few of my taboo desires.

Alone in her room, Gypsy laid there watching the ceiling. Should she call her family and ask if this is okay, or should she allow it to continue and accept it as God’s will? As her eyes closed, the Devil snuck into the room to show the innocent young Nun the pleasures of his playground. One can’t control a dream. Satan always holds the upper hand in the subconscious world. 

Slowly the sheet pulled from the cot, exposing her small frame. As she stretches out, unaware that her dreams were about to be hijacked, and the Devil himself was driving the bus. She moans as she felt the hand creep from her ankle to her inner thigh, his nails leaving a faint line on her flawless flesh. 

Sunday Sin will drive you wild.

Inhaling deep, his back arched as his nose followed his hands.  Tonight though, all the Devil wanted was to sedate his growing thirst. The well between her legs would supply him with his nightly nocturnal nourishment. He parted her legs, careful not to wake the girl. The first shock of the evening was that there were no panties to remove. Her soft pussy hair covered in a dew of her sins.

The scent alone letting him know that she pleasured herself tonight. A slight adjustment in weight on the bed, and his nose buried in the small puff of hair above her pussy. Inhaling deep, he took in not just the scent of pussy perfume but also the smell of innocence. Below those pristine lips laid the perfect seal that held out all the destructive elements of the world. 

As she rolled slightly, her leg dropped to the side. She exposed herself more without knowing it or did her subconscious tell her to do that. Maybe the will of the Devil parted the rivers to the hidden treasure. 

He never spoke. There is no need to talk during dinner. As his tongue started at the asshole, he licked up the outer labia, drawing an imaginary line up to the clitoral hood. He made sure not to break contact with the skin. His tongue moved back down in a half-circle, pushing his way up the other side to complete the circle. The taste was bursting tiny bubbles on his tongue.

The Devil in the presence of not only a Nun but a virgin is almost toxic. Her pussy tastes like the combination of spun sugar and fresh honey straight from the hive. Thick, creamy, and addictive. The dream lover took his time with the small Nun. His craving reached the starvation point when he took the first swipe up the middle, parting her lips with the tip. If this is what heaven tastes like, he will relinquish the throne. 

Keep reading, to the explosive ending.

“Mmm, no, our father who art,” Gypsy mumbled. She was praying in her sleep, but for what? Did she pray for the nocturnal dream to continue or for it to end? The juices that trickled from her sweet pussy answered what she could not speak. 

“Oh, sister, I am not done with you. I will never finish with you,” he growled. Around in circles, the spike of his tongue toured her virginity. Oh, to be the one to take that, he would give up his immortal life to shove his cock in there, splatter it with cherry juice, and listen to the opera screams. Slithering around, he would not let her cum with his tongue inside of her sweet hole. No, a little lower was the goal. A hand on either side of her ass cheek, he spread open that tiny door, pushing his tongue inside of her asshole. The tight rim is holding him in a strangulation hold as she pumped her hips in the air. For being a virgin, she will become a prime panial queen.

One that begged for her cunt taped shut and her asshole destroyed by a multitude of massive cocks.

She cried out, her pleasure building as the sleeping sister knotted her slender fingers in the sheets of the cot—perspiration building on her brow. The moment the lust of the Devil consumed Gypsy, she screamed out in waves of pleasure. “Oh god, please,” she wailed. Her voice echoed through the small room as the dream escape pulled her into the chambers of the Devil for the very first time. 

Smirking, the being from her growing nightmares collecting his due, he drank every drop of the sweet cream that poured freely from her cunt. It was then that he knew the man who took this girl would unleash a wanton slave to the cock.

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