More from Allison

• Allison’s Night Before Christmas

  December 23, 2025

  ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and Santa was due, Allison stirred, with a naughty little clue. She crept through the house, silent as can be, Until she spied the old man underneath the tree.

  Ho ho ho, a scantily clad vision in red, Allison’s barely-there nightie barely covered her head. She tossed her panties at the jolly old soul, Gasping as he jumped, eyes wide at her exposed role.

  Santa beheld the bad girl, all teeth and tongue, Sticking her finger in her mouth, into that pretty honey-tongue. He couldn’t resist the temptation, the urge to play, To take this little blonde slut and fuck her the whole night away.

  With an animalistic grunt, Santa pulled out his dick, Hard as steel and ready, his pants unzipped quick. He grabbed Allison’s hips and shoved her to the floor, Fucking her like a ragdoll, his cock plundering her core.

  All night long, the sleigh sat idle, unsprung, As Santa ravished Allison, her cries echoing, her body thronged. No other gifts were delivered that Christmas Eve, As the old man’s lust took priority, his cock in relentless reprieve.

  When morning broke, Allison lay spent and sated, Santa’s cum oozing from her, their combined fluids no longer abated. She smiled, a wicked glint in her eye, For she’d gotten her Christmas present, and it was clear she’d fly high.

• Diary Of A Phone Sex Addict

  November 17, 2025

  Dear Diary,

  I never could have imagined how effortlessly the world of phone sex would become my paradise. At first, it seemed like just another Sexy job. But as the calls started rolling in, something inside me ignited. I found myself craving the thrilling exchanges, the deep, intimate conversations that allowed me to peer into the forbidden corners of my clients’ minds.

  There’s a certain allure to those with the most perverted tendencies. The way they whisper their darkest fantasies, the eagerness with which they probe for your own, the sheer desperation to be heard and understood. I revel in their stories, getting lost in the depravity and shame that seems to fuel their desires. The sound of their voices cracking as they confess their naughtiest secrets, the heavy panting that precedes their ultimate release… it’s intoxicating.

  But the truth is, I’ve started to wonder if I’m the true pervert here. As I listen to their tales, I find myself imagining scenarios that mirror their own, my fingers traitorously tracing the curves of my own body as I picture the illicit acts they describe. The line between roles has begun to blur, and I’m left questioning whether my enjoyment stems from simply being a willing participant or if I’ve crossed over into something more sinister.

  Perhaps it’s the thrill of knowing these secrets, of being privy to the most intimate aspects of another’s psyche. Or maybe it’s the rush of exploring my own forbidden desires, of embracing the darkness that lurks within us all. Either way, I can’t deny the sense of fulfillment I feel when the call ends and I’m left with the echoes of their pleasure in my ears.

  As the night wears on and the calls keep coming, I’m reminded that in this world, roles are fluid and the pursuit of pleasure knows no bounds. And yet, amidst the depravity, there’s an unspoken connection, an understanding that we’re all just navigating the labyrinth of our own desires.

  Until next time, diary. Until next time.

  ********Allison 888-750-4746 ext 808***********