My favourite punter. My name is Lynne. This is part one of my true story about my favourite punter. I had known him for some eleven years. Whilst he might have been considered to have a borderline compulsive sexual behaviour disorder I, simply, regarded him as somewhat hypersexual. However, it has to be appreciated that my perspective might be skewed. Since I had just started work as a sex escort. Perhaps, out of the choc...

My name is Lynne. Today, my name is all that is left of my identity, because my life has been ruined by Cornish drug dealers. At 21, I had a master's in hairdressing and dyeing and my own salon in Hayle. It was my success that attracted my best friend, Gina, to me by then. She would take me out clubbing but couldn’t always pay for herself. Then her dad came back from ‘work in London’ with a surprise treat for me in exchan...

Danielle had been scratching her itch to reach throughout college, dripping throughout the day at the sight of horny labourers milling around the park grounds. Her gusset was so wet for so long. The unmistakable funky smell meant fish was not just served on Fridays. Danielle finally got a chance to fulfil the extreme obsessions that had been building up over the last couple of years. She loved how the labourer, Kevin, cou...