Fleshlight

All you need to know about fleshlights

Looking for str8/bi Jo buds that wanna watch porn and bust a few nuts together. Got 420 and fleshlights to share. I can host

You’re on your knees before I’ve even finished shutting the front door, your hands trembling as you l your dress up over your hips, baring that slick, desperate pussy to me like an offering. Your thighs glisten with how wet you already are, your breath coming in ragged little gasps as you whimper, "Please, sir, I’ve been such a good girl. Let me show you how good I can be."

I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you squirm. You’re already a mess—nipples hard as diamonds under that flimsy lace bra, your fingers twitching like you’re fighting the urge to touch yourself. You know better. I haven’t given you permission yet.

“Beg harder,” I say, voice low.

Your whine is pathetic, needy, as you press your forehead to the floor, ass lifted high, spreading yourself open with two fingers. "Fuck, please, I need it. My cunt’s dripping for you. My mouth, my tits, my ass—anything. Just use me." You’re already rocking your hips, chasing friction against nothing, your clit swollen and throbbing. I can smell how bad you want it.

I crouch down, trailing a finger along your soaked slit, just enough to make you shudder. Then I pull away. “No.”

The sound you make is half sob, half growl. "What? No, no, no—" You scramble forward, pressing your face into my crotch, nuzzling against the bulge in my pants like a starving . "I’ll do anything. Let me suck you. Let me ride you. Let me—"

I grab a handful of your hair and yank your head back. “You’ll do what I tell you.” Your lips are parted, eyes glazed, pupils blown wide with desperation. I slap your tits, hard enough to make them jiggle, then pinch your nipples until you’re gasping. "Yes, yes, more—"

“More what?” I twist, watching your back arch, your pussy clenching around nothing.

"More , more—fuck, I don’t care, just fucking take me!" You’re crying now, tears streaking down your cheeks, but your hand snakes between your legs anyway. I catch your wrist before you can touch yourself.

“Did I say you could do that?” I drag you up by your hair, shoving you against the wall. Your tits mash against the cool surface as I kick your legs apart, my palm cracking against your ass hard enough to leave a handprint. You scream, but your pussy gushes, dripping down your thighs. "Please, sir, I’ll be good, I swear—"

“You’re not good,” I growl, spanking you again, then again, until your skin is hot and red under my hand. “You’re a greedy little slut who thinks she deserves to come.” I shove two fingers inside you, curling them just enough to make you sob, then pull out before you can get close. “You don’t.”

"I’ll be better!" You’re practically howling now, your nails scraping at the wall. "I’ll be your fucktoy, your cumdump, your—your fleshlight—just let me!"

I laugh, low and dark, because you’re pathetic, and I love it. I strip my belt off with one hand, doubling it over. The first strike across your ass makes you shriek, your pussy fluttering like it’s trying to milk something that isn’t there. The second makes you drip. By the fifth, you’re a sobbing, trembling wreck, your thighs slick with arousal, your hole clenching around empty air.

“You want my cock that bad?” I murmur, pressing the head against your soaked entrance.

"Yes! Fuck, yes—" You try to push back, but I pull away, smacking your ass again.

“Not here.” I drag the tip up, teasing your tight little asshole. You freeze.

"W-what? No, I—I didn’t mean—"

“I know what you meant.” I press just the tip inside, watching you tense, your breath hitching. “You’ll take what I give you.” I push in another inch, slow, relentless. Your whines turn high and keening, your fingers clawing at the wall. "It’s too big, I can’t—"

“You can.” I slap your ass again, making you take another inch. “And you will.” I bottom out with a sharp thrust, and you scream, your body locking up around me, your ass burning and full and perfect.

"Oh god, oh fuck—" You’re babbling, your pussy dripping onto the floor, your body trembling like you’re already on the edge. I pull out slowly, then slam back in, making you on a sob. Your ass clenches around me, tight and hot, and I know you’ve never had anything this deep before.

“You’re going to come like this,” I growl, gripping your hips, fucking you hard enough to make your tits bounce against the wall. “You’re going to come on my cock in that tight little asshole, and you’re not going to touch that needy cunt, understand?”

"I—I can’t, I can’t—"You’re sobbing, your body betraying you, your ass fluttering around me as I piston in and out, my balls slapping against your soaked pussy.

“You will.” I reach around, finding your clit, pinching it hard. Your back arches, a broken scream tearing from your throat as your ass locks around me, your whole body shuddering. You come with a wail, your pussy gushing, your ass milking my cock like it’s trying to drag the orgasm out of me too.

I don’t let up

Straight/throat-only running for President of Deep-Throat Destruction 2025.
Professional, discreet, zero reciprocation, zero chit-chat.
I show up already clamped, poppers loaded, on my knees the second the door locks.
Your job: fist my hair, ram past my gag reflex, and unload straight down my throat before you head to work. 15–20 minutes max. Longer if you wish i willI swallow every drop, thank you with teary eyes, and disappear until you need stress relief again.
What I bring:
• Trained throat that doesn’t tap out
• Remote estim clamps on my nipples (controlled live by my cruel Dom while you fuck my face)
• Strong poppers and a mouth that drools on command
• Zero drama, zero strings, zero safe-words once you’re balls-deep
What I want:
Aggressive, verbal, straight(ish) guys who treat my throat like a disposable Fleshlight and leave marks I feel all day. Bonus if you make the clamps spike while I .
If you can walk in hard, use me ruthless, and walk out calm for your 9 a.m. meeting, vote for me with your ***.
Tell me when and where. I’ll be waiting exactly how I’m told, nipples punished, throat starving.
Position applied for: Official Presidential Cocksucker.
References: the tears and mascara running down my cheeks when you’re done.”