Adult Short Stories Novels & Stories

Tyler, quieter but built solid with those broad shoulders that tensed up when he got excited, and Alex, the storyteller who could turn any boring moment into something wild with his tales. We kicked off the night with a standard round of Never Have I Ever, sipping shots whenever someone hit a truth we had lived, but after a few cycles and the alcohol hitting harder, Sarah suggested flipping it to what she called the Extreme Edition, where instead of drinking for the things you had done, you stripped off a piece of clothing, and that idea got everyone nodding and grinning because the vibe was already charged with that tipsy flirtation. Clothes started coming off pretty fast after that, shirts

When the call ended, she let the phone fall on the bed, Her body trembled, this time not from Tristan but from the fear and dread eating at her inside. End. ⚠️ Reader Alert: Things get wild, the following chapters after this contains LGBTQ+ romance, harem/reverse harem dynamics, and explicit sexual content including gang bangs. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Proceed only if mature content is okay for you. (Sex With My professor) The lecture hall hummed with low chatter until the heavy iron doors swung open, the sound cut through the room, pulling every eye toward the man striding in. Professor Ethan Metch.

Pinky squinted to read it, her eyes tracing the loops and crosses. "Collection of short stories for ladies," the title read. "Stories of desire, of awakening, of the first time." Pinky blinked, her eyes widening as she read on. The handwriting was feminine, secretive, as if the writer were sharing her most guarded thoughts with only the pages. It was a confession. A revelation. As she began to read.

For a little while, I was just a regular nineteen-year-old again. Nathan and Marina eventually drifted off to chat with some of their cousins, and I tagged along. But after a while, I started feeling left out, listening to them talk about people I didn’t know and reliving old memories I wasn’t part of. So, I wandered back to our table, where Nathan’s parents were deep in conversation with one of Bruno’s older relatives, the man who, I gathered, owned the farm and was Bruno’s uncle. He was telling them about all the wedding preparations and how happy he was that everything had gone so well. Then the topic shifted to the woods at the top of the hill. His eyes lit up as he spoke about Bruno’s c

Chapter One: Soft Moans The bonfire had died down to glowing embers by ten-thirty. The kids, eighty-something tenth- and eleventh-graders from Elites High, were finally zipped into their sleeping bags inside the cluster of army tents we’d pitched along the clearing. Ghost stories had turned to giggles, then yawns, then silence. Díckson and I had done the last sweep together: flashlights sweeping across canvas walls, counting heads, making sure no one had snuck off to smoke or worse.

All through the night, a whole lot of the men, waiters and guests, tried once or twice to get him to fuck them. His gift refused to leave his side. The night had been long and wild for him and he knew this was the best fun he had had in years, and now that he had had a taste of asses, he knew pussies could never interest him again.

“Does this bore you?” “Sorry, Ma’am.” It wasn’t so much that it was boring, it was that it was just stories. He needed more. “And then today, at lunch, I seduced a UPS guy. All tan and muscles, he looked great in his uniform shorts but he looked even better out of them. Nine-inch cock, at a minimum. Straight and thick. And boy could he eat. Someone had trained that boy well. I had three orgasms before we even got to the actual fucking. I thought about you—stuck here, cleaning the bathroom or the kitchen or whatever it was you were doing.”

My voice came out softer than I wanted. “You can.” His hand moved. His fingers brushed over my wrist as he turned the page. It was not an accident. I felt the rough pad of his thumb slide slowly across the inside of my wrist. He left it there for a second longer than he needed to. “But you have to stop being scared of the heat. This story has real heat in it, Lila. Don’t sand it down. Don’t make it polite. Write the dirty truth.”

Jennifer: Shrug emoji. I decided to take a different tack. This time, rather than pick safe, general stories, I chose a bunch of different categories and sent my favorites from each. One was romantic, about a couple falling in love. The next was about a wife who sleeps with another man. Another had a husband bringing in his best friend for a threesome. I chose one that had some bondage (not my thing, but I picked a story that was highly rated). I sent a Lesbian story and a Gay male one (again, I relied on the ratings). I linked a story about watching two people have sex in the woods, and one about a girl riding a sybian for the first time. I skipped two categories: nonconsent and incest. As

"And we're not actually a family complication. We're just two adults who fell for each other." "An unconventional relationship." "Very unconventional," he agreed. "But some of the best things are."