Best Erotica Novels Novels & Stories

Then I opened my legs wider for him, resisting the overwhelming urge to close them and hide. The cool air against my wet folds made me shiver. “Touch yourself,” he ordered, voice low and rough. My face burned with humiliation, but I obeyed again. My fingers moved between my folds, smearing my abundant juices around my already swollen clit. The wet sound was embarrassingly loud in the quiet room. I closed my eyes tightly, unable to bear the intensity of his stare. “Open your eyes,” he snapped. “And do not hide your moans.” I forced my eyes open, releasing my bitten lip. Soft, embarrassed whimpers escaped me as I circled my clit faster. My hips began to rock against my hand without permission.

I say, completely bemused . “Yeah, but it’s not like that. This one’s for couples, not seedy old men.” If he wasn’t so devilishly handsome and sexy, I would run and not look back. Staring into the shop window I frown, and then, for some weird reason, I lead the way inside. My jaw snaps open. Now, I’m not really a sex addict, and I do have quite the healthy interest in sex and erotica, but I’m pretty sure that some of the items displayed on the shelf would make even Christian Grey from fifty shades trilogy blush.

The moment I stepped into my quiet dorm room, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep without touching myself again. Sophie was still out, probably lost in her art studio like usual. I locked the door, stripped completely naked, and dropped onto my bed. The sinful book lay open on the pillow beside me, those red-ink notes staring up at me like accusations and invitations. I spread my legs wide, knees bent, and let my fingers trail slowly down my stomach. My pussy was already drenched with fresh arousal. I started slow, teasing my swollen clit with lazy circles, remembering the way Adrian’s tongue had flicked over it.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” I smile back. “Turn over,” he says. I flip around so his front is to my back. He pulls me close, and I feel the thickness of his morning erection press against my bottom. I wiggle slowly as he kisses my neck and trails his fingers down to my pussy. “So wet for me,” he whispers. I swirl my hips, whimpering at the sudden need that’s coursing through me. He turns away and I hear him open the condom, and in moments, bliss comes as he pushes inside. The angle is different and hits deep, causing me to cry out.

"This place... it might be a bit much. If it freaks you out, we can turn right around and leave. No pressure." Jay reached up, his fingers lightly brushing over the edge of my mask. "Open the door, Jake," he murmured softly, his eyes heavy with arousal. My heart hammered against my ribs. I turned the handle and pushed the heavy door open. The red room was dimly lit, drenched in deep crimson light and thick with the scent of leather, sweat, and heavy perfume. Everywhere you looked, bodies were entangled. Men and women were having sex openly on leather benches, padded tables, and plush rugs, using whips, restraints, and various toys.

Lira speaks. My eyes flutter between opening and closing as I try to stay conscious. “You’re incredible, baby. So responsive… so fucking delicious.” She slides down my body, kissing every inch—my cum-smeared lips, my throat, sucking marks onto my tits until I’m arching and whimpering. My body tingles, wanting more of her touch. This is unarguably the most alive I’ve been. And for a moment, I am glad that the book I’d found wasn’t some motivational book on how I needed to find my inner voice before I could find my outer one.

Clara Vale lived on the 12th floor of an old, rundown building in downtown São Paulo. At 32, she was the undisputed queen of bestselling erotic romances. Her books sold by the thousands: Fuck Me Until Dawn, where the protagonist was destroyed by a mafioso with a 23-centimeter cock; Fireman’s Dick — the irony of fate hitting hard now — and her most recent one, Emergency Orgasm, which had spent three straight weeks at the top of the charts.

Jeremy leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, his t-shirt stretching tight over his biceps. “No, thanks,” she said, not looking up. He ignored her and stepped in anyway. “Sci-fi fan huh?” He said, picking up a stack of novels. “Yeah,” she said, low but a bit panicked because what if he saw? Just as he was about to dig further. “Jeremy, wait, don’t touch that.” Too late, he had already picked it up. “Oh?” he said, staring at the book, then back at her. “Dark romance? Erotica? I didn’t know you were kinky like that.” He teased.

They alternated, spit-roasting me, hands pinning my wrists. I came repeatedly, body shaking, until they both pulled out, cumming on my tits and face. Hot ropes of semen marked me, their possession complete. As we lay tangled, sweat-slicked, I knew this was just the beginning. My deceptions were unravelling into reality, and I craved every taboo moment.

I was showered with offers for dates, but none of them gave me that tingle in my pussy that Eric next door did. I went to a seedy bookshop in the "wrong" part of town and bought a couple of erotic novels. I chose ones that were about husbands having affairs with younger women. As I read them in bed late at night I let my fingers play with my tits and my pussy and I brought myself to my very first orgasm. It was a wonderful discovery, but nothing like what the books described. I knew I needed a cock for that and the only cock I wanted sat between Eric Conner's legs.