1950s Erotica Novelas e Histórias

What I found was a world of explicit, detailed stories about aunts and nephews. Stories of seduction, of secret affairs, of dominant young men and submissive older women. I read one, then another. My face grew hot, my breathing shallow. Without even consciously deciding to, my hand slipped under the waistband of my linen trousers, my fingertips finding my clit, already sensitive from last night. The stories were graphic, filthy, and utterly compelling. They painted pictures of aunts who were initially reluctant but secretly hungry, who were awakened by their nephew's bold desire. They talked about submission, about being called names, about the thrill of the forbidden.

She truly did enjoy the way he handled her but it wasn’t enough to give her an orgasm except if she added a vibrator. Reed watched proudly as Light pulled out and slammed inside into Lexi’s wet pussy. “Ah!” She moaned loudly, her hips swirling as if begging for more. This moment made him admit that Light was truly the freakiest among them all. Within a few minutes with sex demons, he was already balls deep inside one of them. Reed felt his cock growing harder the more he watched the erotic live p**n. He smoothly slid his hand into Red's leather pants and then slipped his fingers under her thong.

A woman at the next counter tested a lipstick, utterly unaware that three feet away, a woman was being slowly, thoroughly fucked on a salesman’s stool. “Four,” Marcus whispered into her hair as he spilled inside her once more. Clara lost count. The floors blurred together. A stockroom on the Children’s floor, surrounded by boxes of stuffed animals, where he made her suck him off until he came in her mouth. A deserted photo booth near the customer service desk, where he fingered her to a quick, silent climax as families had their portraits taken nearby. Each was a quick, dirty transaction, a claim staked in another part of his… their, domain.

The way her breath had caught when I touched her last week, the soft swell of her mound under my gloved fingers, the faint sheen of arousal I’d seen between her thighs when she thought I wasn’t looking. I leaned against the wall in the private room, unzipped my jeans, and pulled myself out. Thick and already leaking. The head flushed dark, a bead of precum sliding down the underside. I wrapped my fist around the base and stroked once—slow, deliberate—picturing her on my table again. Soft curves. Full tits straining against her bra. That delicate flush creeping up her neck when I’d said her skin took the lines beautifully. I remembered the others: Claire, married ten years, wedding band flash

“Just like that, Erica. Keep bouncing on me and beg for my cum. You want my fucking cum don't you?" “Yes! Please, give me your cum,” I whimpered, feeling like I was about to explode around him. “Please, Dr. Evans, fill my tight little pussy with your cum. I need it so badly. It’ll make me come all around your hard cock.” “Oh, Fuck,” he grunted, slamming my hips down on his cock and forcing them still. I knew he was trying to stop himself from coming already, but he didn’t tell me to stop bouncing. So, I continued to buck my hips back and forth, my breasts moving against his chest and my pussy exploding around his cock.

“Look at the holy healer, fucking herself on my cock. You love it. You love being my corrupted little whore.” “Yes!” she screamed, the profanity feeling like a liberation. “I love it! I love your cock inside me!” Her orgasm built, a tidal wave of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. He felt it too, his control fraying. “Cum for me, Amara,” he commanded, his voice raw. “Cum all over my corrupting cock. Mark yourself as mine.”

I wanted to press the red button which indicated a help signal, but I was still wondering what he wanted to do to me. He knelt down while his nose sniffed at my entrance. I was wearing a long, straight silk skirt that covered my thighs. He lifted my skirt up gently and slowly, bringing his nose deeper. I didn't tell him to stop; that was because I loved the way he made me feel as I fought hard against my moans. My head tilted back and my mouth went agape the moment his hands touched my already wet entrance. His fingers pinched my clit while I let out a devouring moan.

My thighs pressed together on instinct, but it was already too late. A slick rush of wetness flooded my panties, hot and sudden, soaking the delicate lace until it clung to my swollen fold. My clit pulsed hard, as if his voice had whispered the command straight against my skin. God. I was dripping. Just from an email. Just from the knowledge that the most explicit thing I’d ever written...forty-three pages of raw, shameless fantasy...was now sitting in his inbox. I had submitted the wrong file. On Monday night I’d been running on cold coffee and three hours of sleep, watching a course submission portal count down the last two minutes before the deadline.

I tapped on another picture of me sitting against the wall in a set of black lacy lingerie with my legs spread apart. I was holding a small silver vibrator against my underwear. “Just send both, stupid!” She smirked. I raised my eyebrows at her. “What? Might as well. It’ll give him some different options when he looks at your pictures to, ya know”—she made a jerking motion by her pelvis—“come.” " You can't just leave the poor man to stare at just one photo, can you? There's a reason p**n videos are long and dynamic" Angela said, still staring at the photos, scrolling and swiping through the numerous photos we took.

“No one has to know. You’ll still be my devoted secretary by day but after hours, when the church is empty and the lights go dim you’ll be my secret little cumdump. My private release whenever I need to empty these heavy balls.” The crude, wicked term should have shocked me. Instead it made my pussy throb with fresh need. I nodded before I could stop myself. Pastor Elias smiled as he pulled me to my feet and turned me around, bending me gently over the wide oak desk. Papers scattered as he pushed my skirt up to my waist, exposing my simple white panties. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and slowly dragged them down my legs, leaving me bare from the waist down. “So pretty and pink,” he