Below is the questions asked, and the results.

Hair

Black: 50%

Brunette 20%

Redhead 10%

Blonde 20%

Tits

A 25%

B 30%

C 30%

D 15%

Weight

95-110 – 20%

110-150 – 60%

150-200 – 15%

200+ 5%

Height

This was to broad to pick. Most said from 5 ft to 6 ft.

Shaved/Bald

No hair – 15%

Bush – 85%

Dominate/submissive

Most agreed that a dominate/aggressive woman would be their preference.

Are you surprised? I can honestly say that I am a little surprised. When we think of the All American woman most would say busty, blonde, with a tiny waist and a big butt. As you can see, that wasn’t the response with the men that I questioned.

According to Vocal Media the list of perfect women include:

Kim Jai-Soo

Zendaya

Deepika Padukone

Bella Hadid

Hande Eurcel

Gal Gadot

Margot Robbie

Emma Watson

Priyanka Chopra Jonas

Lily Collins

My ideal of the perfect woman is a little different than these, though all are beautiful. If I had to choose one woman that to me was the most outstanding in looks, it would be Vivien Leigh. Her beauty was unmatched, but it was her sass that really sunk me. In the role of Scarlet O’Hara she was a force to be reckoned with. Mouth, brash, and knew how to drive a man wild. Those eyes could melt the soul, but the wickedness behind them was devastating.

In all honesty, is there really a perfect woman? No, but some will still take your breath away and frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!

For fun I asked AI to make me the perfect woman using a generator. What do you think?

The post Build the Perfect Woman appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Can you believe it? 2025 is the year of Chastity according to Cosmopolitan magazine.

The definition of chastity is simple. Abstaining from all forms of sexual intercourse. It’s often related to when one takes a vow to not participate in intercourse. Many see it as something that only happens in the Catholic church, and though that is true, it’s so much more than a religious practice. If you asked 10  people why they participate in this fetish you would have 10 different reasons why. No two being the same.

Female Chastity is often related to purity and fidelity. A woman giving herself to her husband on their wedding night. For men it’s more of a fetish. Being locked away and under the ownership of a female can be as erotic, if not more, than being allowed to orgasm. For both it can be a mental or a physical form of chastity. One takes more self control than the other, and the participant must abide by the rules of play. As to where the other, the sex organ is locked down and the key holder is the only way out.

Male Chastity Devices:

Lock the cock

House of denial

Amazon

Flat chastity with catheter

Female Chastity Devices:

Amazon

Fancy steel

Lock the cock -female

Is chastity healthy?

For both sexes it can decrease the risk of STD’s, but what about the long term effects? For a man it can increase stamina, heighten trust between partners, and increase sexual desire. One comparison would be to spend a month on a diet, though you work in a bakery. Day in and day out you must see and smell the decadent pastries but not taste. At first it may mentally drain, but the longer you go without, the sweeter the reward in the end.

No matter why you decide to slip into the chastity world, do your research before and never enter into it without the trust of your partner.

Short chastity story (fiction)

Ethan had always been in control—of his job, his finances, his life. But when he met Sophia, everything changed. She had a confidence that both intimidated and excited him. One evening, as they sipped wine on her balcony, she leaned in and whispered, “Do you trust me?”

He nodded.

Sophia presented a small, silver device—elegant yet imposing. “If you want to be mine, you’ll wear this.”

Ethan’s heart pounded. The thought of surrendering his pleasure, his control, was both terrifying and exhilarating. With a deep breath, he submitted.

Days turned to weeks, and Ethan found himself more devoted than ever. Every touch, every teasing glance from Sophia sent shivers through him, yet he remained denied. His desire transformed into obedience, his longing into love.

Sophia relished his submission. She held the key—both literally and metaphorically. She dictated his release, and in return, he gave her his undivided loyalty.

One night, as he knelt before her, she smirked and dangled the key. “Have you earned this?”

Ethan swallowed hard. He didn’t know the answer—but he knew one thing: he was exactly where he wanted to be.

The post Chastity is the 2025 Fetish of the Year appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

I don’t even remember the age I started discovering my body, but I know it was young. I’ve heard women mature sexually faster than men do, and I believe it with the experiences I’ve had. The only bad thing is I still live at home, and my parents think that sex is for procreation, and masturbation is a sin. I honestly believe they only had sex one time in their relationship, and that’s when they made me. What’s weird is that both of them are extremely attractive. They work out daily, indulge in personal trainers, and my mother even went away one weekend for a little minor surgery. Oddly enough, her breasts were twice the size when she returned. We never spoke of it, but there was no way you couldn’t notice such a drastic change.

When I turned eighteen, my life changed drastically. I had begun my first year of college and needed to make some extra cash. My parents paid fully for my college, but they gave nothing else. I wanted to hang out with friends, vacation, spring break, and even party, but I couldn’t ask them for more. They were paying for an Ivy League college, and I know that tapped out their finances. The only way I could work was to hide it from both of them. I promised to focus on classes, and they would handle the rest.

Frustrated, my best girlfriend suggested that I go on dates for money with older men. She was doing it and making about five grand a month. The crazy thing was that I was still a virgin, and some of these men wanted sex. Sure, they paid extra for that, but I knew nothing about sex other than what I did to myself nightly. If that wasn’t enough of fear, my father is a cop. What if he found out about what I was doing, or worse, what if he busted me. As nervous as I was, the money was just too much for me to turn down the offer.

My girlfriend Brenda set me up to meet with a client that used her frequently. Brenda told me that he was the kind of guy that loved to spoil pretty girls like us. I’ve heard about sugar daddies, but I never thought I would have one of my own. She also told me that is he likes me, he might be the only client that I will ever need. Have you ever gotten a case of all-over chills? That was the first time for me, and the excitement had me so horny.

Later that night, my pussy needed to be taken care of, and since my parents were out for the evening, I could be as loud as I wanted. I slipped into my bedroom, the door locked behind me. Within seconds all of my clothes laid in the corner of the bedroom. I closed the blinds, sneaking a peek outside before I did. Paranoia always got the best of me when I was touching myself.

My bedroom is still decorated from childhood. The stuffed animals on my bed have seen a lot of my naughty time. Oddly enough, I like to place them on the floor facing the wall each time. It’s as though they will tell on me or worse than that. Judge me for sinning against myself. I pulled back the pink-flowered spread on my bed, put every fluffy animal in the corner, and spread out on the sheets, ready to masturbate my frustrations away.

In my bedroom, there is a mirror on the wall across from my bed. For the first time, I watched as my fingers danced up and down my swollen pussy lips, gasping when they got wet without even spreading them. I almost cried out in quivers of pleasure. I could always achieve little breaths of orgasmic death. I pushed my feet to the edge of the twin bed. My pouty pink slit opened just enough to see my clit. Already swollen, the little bundle of nerves was my greatest find. I remember the first time I came. I hid in my closet for an hour crying because I thought I broke my pussy. How would I explain to my parents that I broke that part of my body if masturbation was a sin?

Dangling a finger above my pussy lips, drops of my fluid dripping from the tips like speckles of rain on my swollen mound. I always did love warm summer rain. Down and in, my slender digits gliding like a paintbrush up and down my soft folds. Only stopping to taunt my clit. A whisper of filth slipping from my lips as the circles are drawn around the tiny bundle of nerves.

“Fucking whore,” I whisper.

My lips quiver as the words of a lover spill, I press my index finger inside, stopping the moment I feel my hymen. God, I want to break it. I want to take away my virginity, but one day will I regret that? The unknown scares me enough to stop and retract my soaking wet finger. If I went deeper, would I pull back and find the sins staining my nails? I am sure I would. For a brief second, I push my candy-coated finger into my mouth and imagine the taste of blood. I’ve never thought about why a Vampire craves blood until that moment.

The ache deepening, my hand follows the warmth as it rushed down my body, slapping hard over my wet pussy lips. The reflection in the mirror tells me that I left a mark. It wasn’t the first time, but god, I want so more. My other hand tugged my erect nipples. I was pulling them from my body until the pain forces me to release them. I didn’t mean to cum, but it wasn’t an accident either. As my finger rubbed over my clit, and my other hand twisted my little buds, I screamed out in waves of pleasure as an orgasm bolted through my body with wicked strikes of painful pleasure. It physically hurt to come that hard, and yet, I’ve never experienced something so beautiful.

As I laid in bliss, thinking about what and how this escort life would be, my phone brought me back to reality. Sliding my slippery fingers over the screen, it was my best friend Brenda sent me a picture. I will never forget the moment I opened it and read the cation.

“I told my sugar daddy all about you, and he wants to arrange a date. I attached his picture so you can see him.”

I think I blacked out for a few moments. The picture was of my father, and there was no way in hell I could ever look Brenda in the face again.

The post Masturbation Memories Erotic Story appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

A hard dick is no excuse to being rude during a phone sex call. Paid or unpaid, the person on the other end of the phone is a human just like you. Please understand that if you want something that includes being vulgar, raunchy, or even mean, tell the person ahead of time so you get what you pay for.

Blocking

People would be shocked at how many times I have been blocked by a caller because I was either sleeping, or on another call. I don’t understand why this is done. Are we not grown ups who understand that just because we want something that there are situations that sometimes are out of our control. I’ve had many phone sex callers block me only to come back and tell me it was because I didn’t give them instant gratification. Here’s a warning for all. Blocking me for something I can’t control will get you one right back. There will be no coming back from rudeness.

Fantasies/Fetishes

Please try to understand that everyone is different. Just because something is your fantasy doesn’t mean that it is mine. I try to give the other person everything, and yes, I mean everything they want, but sometimes I can’t. I’ll tell you ahead if something is impossible so I don’t waste your time or money. I want this phone sex experience to be the best you’ve ever had, so please tell me ahead what you want. My crystal ball doesn’t work for everyone.

New Accounts

If you and I have had issues in the past, please don’t come to me on a new account. Believe me, I will always know it’s you. I am a very good judge when someone is playing me.

Feedback

Every person has a right to an opinion of someone else, but come on. Tell me of I haven’t pleased you privately. I recently had my first bad feeback and to be honest, it hurt. Not because of the actual feedback, but the reason behind it. There is some things that I can’t speak about due to it being out of my control. Please read the Niteflirt TOS before you punish me for things I can’t change. Please respect me as I have respected you.

Mind reading

I feel that I can usually take a call in the direction the caller wants, but I am not a mind reader. Help me out and give me a little something to work on. Again, I want this to be the best phone sex you’ve ever experienced.

Thank you for attending my phone sex TED talk. Now let’s have some fun.

The post Phone Sex Etiquette You Need To Know appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

First of all, thank you all for the amazing comments and feedback about our phone sessions. I’ve been in the phone business for awhile, and this time in my life has been the best. I honestly have met some of the best people and consider some really dear friends. Niteflirt has been an amazing platform for me, and allows me to still have time to write, and do things that enhance my life.

I’ve always prided myself on my creative mind and open to new things personality. I will admit that I don’t shock easy, but a few of you have opened my eyes to things that I never thought others would enjoy. So, thank you for that. If there is anything you want me to change or enhance, let me know. That includes the blog.  I don’t know what you enjoy if you don’t tell me.

Check out my niteflirt page to see for yourself. Again, thank you all for your love and support.

The post 1000 Stars with all GOOD feedback. appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Where is the kinkiest place you’ve ever had phone sex? As an exhibitionist at heart, mine might shock some, and entice others. I’ve always considered myself a bit of a freak, but this one takes the cake. What would you think if I had phone sex with a groom right before the wedding? Yes, he was in the church at the time. What you might not know is, so was I.

One of my best friends got married last summer. It was a wild time for all of us with all the parties and wedding preparation. During this time I got to know the groom a little better, and he loved all my kinky phone sex stories. A few times when we all hung out, I took calls, but made sure to walk outside for them. You know, privacy. Well, little did I know, I was being the exhibitionist of the party. As I sat on the back porch, he listened to my tales of freak and kink on the phone. I honestly believe that he wanted to get caught jerking off while I spoke my filthy on the telephone.

Exhibitionist? Well yes I am.

We flirted a few times, but it was all harmless, or so I thought. The day of the wedding all the girls who were in the actual wedding party spent the night together drinking. A little hungover, I was one of the last to leave the hotel room, and to be honest, I really didn’t want to go. I knew they were wrong for each other. He had a wandering eye when it came to other women, and she wasn’t over her ex boyfriend yet. The exhibitionist in me yanked open the drapes and stood naked in front of the hotel window. Little did I know, he was watching from across the courtyard.

Ring Ring

When my phone rang it was the bride telling me to hurry. I assured her I would, but knew I was going to be the last one inside. I am always late. Within 20 minutes I stood in the dressing area of the church putting on the final touches of my lipstick when the phone rang. I knew the number, but was shocked that he was calling me. It was the fucking groom. Excusing myself I went into a small chapel off the larger church to take the call.

Oh, fuck, Gypsy. I’m stroking my cock and thinking about fucking you right now.

I almost dropped the phone when he said that. It was his wedding day for fucksakes. I whispered that he needed to stop and get to the main church, but instead he sent me a picture of him jerking off. GOD DAMMIT! I was so fucking wet at that moment. My friend didn’t deserve that cock. He was so big and thick, and I knew she was a whore. Hell, at the bridal shower she fucked the stripper. She was not innocent in all of this.

What did I do? What would you have done? The rest of the story is a secret and will be password protected. If you want the password you can send me a tribute on niteflirt.

The post Exhibitionist Phone Sex Is A Forbidden Desire appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

An erotic story with a twist.

“Gypsy, you’re wanted for the weekend in Vegas. Your ticket is at the airport, but this one, well this is something special. You need to sign this non-disclosure before leaving.”

It wasn’t the first time I signed one, but I almost died when I read the name. I can’t mention who this was, but he is enormous right now. I won’t ever let it slip, or tell you if you guess, but wow, I was in for a shock.

Arriving late Friday evening, a limo waited for me at the airport. Not unusual. Some of my clients are very well connected, and they do this quite frequently for me. Slipping into the sleek black car, a bottle of champagne was chilled and ready for me to enjoy my relaxing ride to the Venetian. I love that place, to be honest. Staying there is just a little pricey when you do it on your own dime.

I checked in and escorted to my room. There was a bathtub where the bubbles that looked like champagne fizzed when filled. I was in mid soak when the door opened, and there he stood. My god! I was starstruck for a moment, but he sure wasn’t. Dropping the robe, without a word, he joined me in the tub. From the view I had, he didn’t need an escort to please that beast between his legs.

“Did you have a good flight?” he asked.

That voice was smooth as silk. As we relaxed in hot water, a bellhop entered the room and left a bottle of Dom Perigon and two chilled glasses. My host popped the cork the moment he was gone. Pouring the drink, he leaned in for a seductive brush against my lips before handing it over. I think that was the first of many moments that I lost my breath. Many times in the past I had fantasized about this man, and here I was with him. I needed to remember he was human, just like anyone else. Only much better looking than most.

“It wasn’t bad at all. No screaming kids in first class,” I laughed.

We both had a good laugh at that one. I hate flying and listening to marital issues, kids crying, and how much someone doesn’t want to visit the bitch mother in law. Usually, that’s when my headphones become my best friend.

Reaching a hand out for me to join him on the other side, I slid my tiny frame over and nestled into his side. It was the kind of moment that most girls dreamed about experiencing. This man didn’t need to pay a whore for services. Any girl in her right mind would have taken my place for free, but he wanted to be able to enjoy himself without any repercussions. An escort is a perfect woman for that!

I had heard things about this man. He has a bit of a fetish for the feet. I can’t say I blame him. A foot carries the weight of the world upon them. His hand brushing down my silken locks, I admit now that I felt special for that one moment in life. We know that is not true. I am a whore who knows how to shut up. A woman who sells her pussy to the highest bidder, but not once did he make me feel that way. I felt like I mattered to at least one person in this heartless world. Pity that feeling was brought forth by the exchange of currency.

“I want you to move back to the other side, lift your foot, and show me, no, entice me to worship that perfect sole!” he said, his voice husky.

I have done many sessions with Men who love feet, but to know this particular man wanted to stroke, lick, and envelope my foot made something deep inside of me twinge with power. I have stated many times that I am not at all a Dominate, but I love twisting and tugging a man around my finger, or in this case, around my little toe.

I slipped back to my spot, lifting that size seven from the warm water. His eyes watched as a twist and turn of the ankle beckoned him to touch. In all honesty, I wanted to feel his mouth on my flesh. Inching closer to the edge, pressing my soft heel against his cheek, I lovingly stroked across the day’s growth of stubble. It felt like an electrical charge rushing through my body. Brushing my digits over his lips, I wanted, No! I needed to feel his tongue bathe my foot. Cleanse me from sole to soul.

I knew he was stroking, but I ignored it. I didn’t care about his hand massaging over that cock. All I needed was this bliss that was enveloping me with each lap of the skilled oral manipulator over my flesh. I would have sold my soul at that point. He was the only man to ever make me cum without either of us touching my genitals. Crying out, I came with a force that I had never experienced before. Rapture rushing through my veins. I would have been sedated with just this, but there was so much more to the weekend. Yes, I fucked him. Yes, he was terrific. Too bad I can’t tell you who he is, but a secret is a secret.

The post The Rockstar: An erotic story with sole appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Cat or mouse? The choice is yours. Do you run from the threat of termination, or do you fight for what you have left? Does the Devil make you do things?

I don’t know how I found myself sitting in the bar’s corner. I swore I would never visit again. I met my ex there three years ago and every memory of him should be in a sealed vault, but at 1 am, the nights get lonely. I guess that’s why I made my way to the bar tonight. Some days I wish that a writer’s insomnia would afflict someone other than myself. A full eight hours a sleep would be a godsend. Thankfully for me, this is one of those places that no one speaks to you unless they’ve had too much to drink. Hence, that’s the reason I sat nestled in the room’s corner. Plus, I am a natural people watcher. My editor suggested I pull from an actual life experience. God, the horror I’ve endured could burn the pages in the first chapter alone.

“What are you drinking tonight?” asked the bartender.

He’s one of those men that wear the leisure suits, slick back their hair, and slap on the old spice before leaving home. I might be lonely, but that is a level of desperation that I will never reach.

“Tequila, just bring the bottle, but not that cheap shit. I’m willing to pay for the top shelf brand,” I said.

The bartender looked taken aback by my statement. Maybe he wasn’t used to people willing to pay more. By the looks of the place and the clientele most sucked up the watered down shit and passed out in their seats. At the opposite end of the bar, a man who seemed to be about 90, rested. His head on the counter and his false teeth hanging out of his mouth. It took everything I could not to walk over and shove them back in. The entire time I waited for my drink, the urge was there.

“Top shelf for the lady,” snapped the bartender. He was annoyed at being called out to the cheap alcohol served to regular patrons.

Honestly, I couldn’t help but laugh. Not in his face, of course, but the moment he walked away. Opening the bottle, making sure the seal cracked when I did, I poured a shot into the little glass provided. “Welcome to Canada?” asking, I shrugged. This is Los Angeles, so this little guy was a long way from home. Pouring the clear liquid into the glass, I starred for a moment at the way the fluid settled into a smooth surface. Funny thing was, I waited for a few minutes for it to move. Why? Because in that one Jurassic park movie when the Dinosaur came, the liquid vibrated. Stupid thoughts go through your mind when you’re lost.

A slam on the counter brought me back to the here and now. My liquid quivered, and I drank. One straight shot down the throat and it was gone. Oh, that burn was what I needed more than anything. No pain, no gain, right? Three seats away from me, a male pulled the tattered old stool from under the counter. His other hand still on the bar as he waited for some attention. Another slap to the fake wood surface and the bartender dropped his shoulders and stood in front of the male.

“Whiskey,” he said.

I jumped a little when the man spoke. No, not because of fear, but the way his voice warmed the room. He had one of those radio personality voices. Smooth, deep, and could drive you insane if you let it. Honestly, men like him could look like the back end of a dog and still charm the panties off a nun. Did I dare even look over at the man? Maybe another shot first and then I will take my chances. Pouring another, my hand now wrapped tight around the glass, I didn’t wait to swallow. Down the hatch and the warmth radiated from my toes to my nose. There, that would give me the liquid courage I needed, right? A slow tilt and for the second time tonight I felt the warmth breathing deep into my soul. Have you ever saw someone that you was the Devil, yet you were so drawn that you can’t look away.

“Look away, now,” I screamed inside of my head.

“You like the Princess down there and need the special kind?” grumbled the bartender.

A slight chuckle from the man as he nodded, reaching over and grabbing the bottle on his own. Without wasting time, he twisted the cap off and brought the bottle to his nose to smell.

“It smells like desperation. I don’t drink water, so don’t fuck with me, boy,” snapped the male.

Pulling back the bottle, the man behind the bar slapped it down on the back bar, threatening to shatter the glass. A quick reach below and he brought up an unopened bottle, shoving it forward with force. A shot glass followed before the male walked away.

I kept my eyes on the glass before me, but my ears kept tuned into the male to the side. Shivering when the sound of the stool next to me pulled out, I knew without looking who it was. Did this man think I was some whore because I was in the place close to closing time? Again, I was a little lonely, but not for sex. I needed conversation with someone other than the computer screen. Day after day of sitting at my desk not only numbed my ass, but my social skills as well. I wondered for a minute if he could hear the acceleration in the beat of my heart. I know it was making my head throb the moment he looked in my direction.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a shit hole like this?” he laughed.

In the midst of a drink, I choked. No, I erupted into a volcano of laughter that forced the alcohol to pour from my nose in a tequila river. Grabbing the napkin, I brought it to my face, knowing that I had to be every shade of red ever created.

“Cat got your tongue?” he added.

It took me a few seconds to compose myself from that episode. Not only was I shocked at the question, but intrigued by the man next to me.

“I needed to clear the cobwebs from my head tonight. As for cat, no. I’m allergic,” slightly snippy.

I still hadn’t fully looked at the man. Maybe the voice was all I really needed tonight. Something to make me feel alive. Eyes forward on the aged mahogany wood, I poured another shot. This time, I waited until I indulged. No need to humiliate myself again. We sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, but the old clock on the wall claimed that only five minutes had passed. God, what the hell is wrong with me? Has it been so long that I forgot how to communicate with others?

“Thirty minutes until closed. Wrap it up, people,” yelled the bartender.

Exhaling sharply, I brought the glass to my lips, holding it there before speaking. “Have you ever just wanted to watch someone get hit by a fucking bus?” I asked. My dislike for the bartender was growing faster than the ticking hands on the clock.

“I can arrange it, you know?” the man said, his voice matter of fact and directly to the point.

The post Conversation with the Devil: A Path to Redemption appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

A pantyhose fetish is not as uncommon as some would think. Soft, shiny, and seductive, most men associate the wearing pf pantyhose with a mature woman. Whether the first time seeing was on a family member, or out in public, they can’t keep their eyes and hands off those silky legs.

Across the aisle of the store he sat on the floor watching and waiting. All those older women wearing stockings drove hi crazy. His mother said he would grow out of it, but did he? His small hand waiting until the cost was clear before he ran the palm up that strangers leg, feeling. Groaning, his mother apologized again for his behavior. He just loved the way legs felt in nylons. Back then the woman laughed, patted his head, and reassured his mother that it was fine, but was it? Would he outgrow the need to touch something so soft?

Fast forward to current day. Sitting in a pile of used pantyhose, he picked up each pair, smelling the cotton crotch as one wrapped tight around his cock. He was feeding his pantyhose fetish with an over abundance of used stockings. Many of them bought online, the others stolen from trash cans of the women he knows. He is drunk off the aroma of that nylon material and the way it holds in the sweet scents of the last woman who wore them.

Pantyhose fetish can lead to an addiction.

What is your drug of choice? Pantyhose, Nylons, Stockings, or even the casual knee high? Watching those seductive women cross their legs from the right to the left keeps your cock pulsating with need. The way she dangles the heel from her re-enforced toe, stretching those toes as the shoe threatens to fall. Does that take you to the edge and keep you there? Or do you blow the moment that shoe falls through the air?

A pantyhose fetish, also known as “hosiery fetish” or “nylon fetish,” refers to a sexual interest or attraction towards pantyhose or stockings. Individuals with this desire may find wearing, touching, seeing, or smelling pantyhose sexually stimulating.

For those with a pantyhose fetish, the material’s smooth texture against the skin and its visual appeal can be arousing. The act of putting on or removing pantyhose may carry an erotic charge, as well as the feeling of tightness and confinement when wearing them. Some may also experience heightened arousal when witnessing someone else wearing pantyhose, often as a form of lingerie or in combination with other intimate clothing.

It’s important to note that fetishes, including pantyhose fetish, are a normal variation of human sexuality and can be explored consensually with a partner who shares similar interests. Communication, trust, and respect are essential when discussing any fetish or desire with a partner to ensure mutual understanding and comfort.

As with any fetish or kink, if it becomes overwhelming or interferes with daily life, seeking guidance from a qualified therapist or sex educator can provide valuable insights and support in understanding and managing these desires in a healthy manner. Are you ready to discuss whether or not you’ve gone too far? Call me on niteflirt and I will give you my honest thoughts.

Youtube videos to enjoy.

One

Two

Three

The post Pantyhose Fetish: A closer look appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

I wrote this as an addition to a erotic anthology book that was published by a company. It has nothing to do with Gypsy, but not all my writing does. Enjoy.

A ball on Valentine’s day was so cliché, but that’s what the client wanted, and for
Vanessa, the client always came first. At twenty-four, the raven-haired beauty had
invested her life savings into a party planning business, and this was her first big break.
All she knew about her client was that he was single and had more money than he could
ever spend. In all honesty, that was enough for her to tackle the job one week in advance
of the party.

Masquerade party she will never forget.

“A masquerade party? Are you sure you want that?” Vanessa asked. Sebastian St. Clair
was a man of means. If he wanted something, people moved heaven and earth to make
sure he got everything he wanted and more. Vanessa would make this party the event of
the year for the Billionaire playboy. Every female in the city would die for that pale pink
envelope to arrive in the mail. The letters engraved by the finest craftsman, it would be a
claim to fame to even be in the room with Sebastian. He could make or break your social
status in one single night. Women like Vanessa never received invitations to events like
this, but this year, her name would be all over the society pages for handling the party of
a lifetime.

St. Valentine’s Day Ball was written all over the society pages in bright red letters. After
a week of no sleep, the clock rolled over, and the party was only hours away. Technically
not a guest, Vanessa knew she had to show up dressed to seduce. Not actually, but her
work would need to be the one thing that no one who attended forgot. Splurging half of
her pay on a new dress and shoes, she stood in the mirror in awe of the woman she saw.
Nope, that girl, whoever she was, looked nothing like Vanessa. Her raven hair pulled
back into a cascade of curls. She topped the outfit off with lipstick in the bloodiest shade
of red. The mask would cover the rest of her face, but her emerald green eyes would
make her unforgettable. That was the one part of her body, where she received the most
compliments.

The one thing she liked about a masquerade ball was that behind the mask, you could be anyone you want.

Bright lights lit up the sky. Vanessa even rented one of those Hollywood spotlights that
shined a heart in the sky. It was radiant. By the looks of the crowd waiting outside, there
was not only guests but onlookers hoping for a chance to sneak inside the event.
Thankfully, security was tight, and if your name wasn’t on the list, you didn’t get in. You
would be watching the event through a live stream only. Another added perk. This party
was visible via pay per view. Everyone loves to see how the upper-class live, but most of
all, they wanted a glimpse of 2021 most eligible bachelor. Some of the women on the
streets were better dressed than the ones with an invitation in hand.

The alcohol poured from fountains, the food, top-notch, but what Vanessa didn’t foresee
was the sexual energy in the air. Men and women dancing, none knew their partners’
identity, but the whole place dripped of sex. From the clothing to the masks, it was all a
mystery in the making. Who was who, not even the host, would know. If someone

hooked up here tonight, it would be pure sexual chemistry and not appearance, though
the outfits were divine. Feathers, lace, ribbons, and bows, the mask came with each
invitation, and the ensemble built around it. Of course, Vanessa kept the best for herself.
That little secret would stain her tongue forever. Like any other red-blooded female, she
felt the tingle the moment she laced the covering, slipping into a secret world of the
unknown.

Every I dotted and T crossed, Vanessa filled in as one of the invited. It was her way of
getting proper feedback from the participants. Humans can lie to save feelings, but she
wanted the truth. With a glass of white wine in hand, she wiggled her way through the
crowd. Her first stop was the bathroom. Females tend to gather around the sinks and
spill their guts. The restroom would be the one place she could find out how her party
rated on the social scales. What Vanessa didn’t foresee was the sounds coming from the
last stall. The party was a hit with at least two of the guests.

“Oh fuck, harder,” cried the female voice.

“Shut up, you’ll get us both busted,” the male growled.

Sounds of balls slapping skin, the scent of fuck was in the air. There is no way to hide the
smell of hot pussy when being fucked hard. Standing back against the wall, Vanessa
leaned down, watching the female in a pair of expensive black stilettos getting pounded
from behind by a man in Italian leather shoes. Even the walls of the small stall shook as
he thrust his cock inside of her dripping walls. She assumed the woman was wet by the
sucking sounds each time he lurched forward. Her eyes closed for a moment as the rush
of heat flooded through her body. Was she really getting off by two strangers fucking?
Yes, she most certainly was.

The grunts of lust signaled the finish to the fuck, giving Vanessa only seconds to get out.
She slipped from the room, but with a wicked lick of her lips, she made sure the door
slammed, so the couple inside knew someone caught them. Not that it mattered. Surely
that would be one of many trips to the restroom that night. Did it matter who that
couple was? No, but it took all Vanessa had to not look back at the door opened. She
would rather not know the identity of anyone tonight. Well, maybe the host, but he took
care of his own mask to ensure he would be hidden tonight.

Standing at the bar, Vanessa had the bartender refill her wine glass, but this time, with
water. It would pass for wine to an intoxicated person, plus give her the upper hand to
keep the party in order. That familiar feeling of being watched crept up her spine. A
glance into the mirror behind the bartender fed her the most intoxicating eyes she had

ever seen. His irises as blue as the ocean, she was lost in a hypnotic embrace for a brief
moment. It was like those scenes from a movie. Drawn closer by a glance, all sound
muted as though they were the only two in the room. Straining to blink, the moment her
eyes opened again, he was gone, or was he?

“Penny for those thoughts of yours,” the voice asked.

From behind Vanessa, a voice, that man, whoever he was, sent shivers up and down her
spine. She didn’t need to see him to know who it was. At times in life, you know
someone without ever seeing their face. Vanessa knew this was the stranger who already
had her panty’s damp with lust. Her pulse raced, breathing quickened, but she never
flinched. She didn’t want to move in fear that he was a fantasy she had made up in her
mind.

“My thoughts would not be appropriate for a crowded setting. I am more of a private
type of woman,” Vanessa whispered.

Without a word, the male took her hand, leading her to one of the few private rooms.
Brushing against others, her body charged with electricity. Every one of the guests
seemed lost in their own worlds just as she was.

The mysterious man pushed the door to the observation room open, inviting Vanessa
inside. The walls were made of glass, the kind that allowed you to look out, but the
crowd below couldn’t see inside. It was perfect for a voyeur. Vanessa wasted no time to
glance at the party downstairs. Her claim to fame was written all over the smiles of those
below. No one would forget tonight.

Pushed hard against the glass, Vanessa let out a deep moan when the male pressed
against her, flattening her body to the glass. Thankfully, it was security glass, and no
matter how hard of an impact it took, it would not shatter. They would test that theory
out tonight. “Open your legs,” he growled. His hand pushed down to cup her pussy from
behind. Fingers pushed hard against her swollen mound—his other hand pulling the
frilly red undies down and off. Instead of tossing them to the side, he pushed them into
his pants as a trophy for later. Some men collect numbers. For him, he collected the
most intimate item in a woman’s apparel.

He growls against the back of her neck as he forced fingers into her swollen walls. He
parted the delicate folds with force. Not one finger parted her. He plunged three to the
depths of her core. Her breath fogged the glass as she panted in approval. Was it the

events of earlier that set her body on fire, or could it be that her fantasy fuck was the
culprit in this warm rush of lust that pulsated in her veins? From behind, the man
dropped to his knees, his mouth immediately pressed against her lower lips. Swipes of
his tongue over her pouty pussy, he parted her ways with the tip of his tongue. Long
swipes of his oral muscle against her swollen bundle of nerves had Vanessa digging her
fingers into the unpenetrable glass surface.

“Oh fuck,” she cried, not wanting to cum. The tighter she squeezed, the more impossible
it came not to explode all over his face. Her mouth opened as screams of need
demanded she came. With a rush of juices pouring from her core, she came for the first
time. Waves of rapture tore through her body for what seemed like an eternity.

“Now, it’s my turn,” he chuckled. Standing behind Vanessa, one hand kept her face to
the glass as the other fumbled to release his cock from the confines of his pants. Pushed
down, he aligned the thick mushroom head of his cock against her opening, thrusting up
with one fluid motion. Inaudible sounds coming from the male, his hard dick repeatedly
pumped inside of her tight walls, the hold she had was almost as though she was
strangling the shaft. One after another, his cock pushed into her velvet walls with
incredible force. Sounds of his balls slapping against her soaked pussy echoed through
the walls of the small room. As Vanessa watched the party below, this mystery man
pounded his dick deep inside of her dripping pussy. Whimpering, her walls stretched to
take every inch of him inside, screaming each time he bottomed out.

“You’re a dirty fucking bitch,” he growled, his cock swelling inside of her. Vanessa knew
he was close, but when she began her descent, his cock exploded inside of her, flooding
her pussy with his seed. Rope after rope of cum blasting deep inside of her pussy walls.
No sooner had he came than he was gone. In a quick exit, he left her standing against
the glass with cum rushing from between her legs and the thoughts of who this man
was. After a quick clean up, Vanessa returned to the party but never found the man in
the mask.

Two days later, opening her email, Vanessa sat back in her chair in a state of shock.
Sebastian St. Clair’s email praised her work and contained a picture of her own panty
attached with a note.

“Vanessa, I need you to find the owners of these panties. We had a brief moment at the
party, and she left me unable to forget her. I’m sure you can find her for me. I have faith
in your discretion and ability to bring me my dirty little Cinderella of the ball.”

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