Black Erotica Novels & Stories

The steam swirled around us, the heat was suffocating, and the pleasure was blinding. I leaned forward, biting the nape of her neck, licking the water off her skin. She reached back, her nails digging into my ass, urging me deeper, harder, faster. "Cum inside me again," she begged. "Fill me up with your cousin juice. Make me pregnant, Alex." The dirty talk, the absolute taboo of it, snapped the last thread of my sanity. The idea of breeding her, of leaving a permanent mark of our sin, sent me over the edge.

I continued my dance , swaying my hips and teasing him . Slowly, I started taking off the lingerie from the bralette, revealing my firm, round breasts and my nipples which were already hard as stones. Nathan’s breathing grew heavy as he watched, completely mesmerized by my erotic display. He reached out, tracing a finger down my stomach, pausing at my waist . I moaned softly as his fingers brushed against my sensitive skin, my body trembling in anticipation. He pulled me closer, his lips finding mine in a passionate kiss. I reached for the waistband of his pants, undoing them with practiced ease. I slipped my hand inside and wrapped my fingers around his hard length, stroking it firmly.

I whispered, my voice barely audible. Damien chuckled darkly. “Prayer won’t save you from what your body wants.” His large hand cupped my chin, tilting my face up. “You’re soaked right now, aren’t you? That sweet virgin pussy is weeping for your boss.” The crude words should have horrified me but instead, it sent a fresh gush of wetness coating my thighs. I pressed my legs together, mortified and aroused beyond reason. He noticed. Of course he did. “Spread your legs, Bethel. Let Daddy see how wet you are for him.”

I couldn't help but look down at his pants, savoring the feeling of his erect cock on my skin, wanting it so bad inside me that nothing else mattered at the moment. For a moment, I was in awe of what I had become. This man kidnapped my mother and I, and is forcing me to become his sex slave, and instead of being repulsed by him and his very existence, I find myself wanting his touch. "Do you want it?" He leaned in, his fingers digging into my sides as he brought his face closer to my ear. He breathed down on my neck, his warm breath making my back arch in want. "Admit it Elena, you want me just as much as I want you. You're drawn to my darkness, you can't resist me." He mocked, whispering in

His hands slid down her body, his touch firm and confident, as he guided her to the edge of the couch. Sadile felt a thrill of excitement as she realized what was about to happen, her body responding to the anticipation with a hunger that surprised even her. The room was filled with the sounds of their breathing, heavy and ragged, as Travis positioned himself before her, his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that made her heart flutter. She was dimly aware of Jenna moving closer, her presence adding a layer of eroticism to the already charged scene.

He kicked her feet wider apart, bent her forward slightly, hands braced high on the wall. “Come on, baby, arch that back,” he commanded. “Push that ass out. Let me see how wrecked your pussy looks.” Alexa obeyed instantly, back curving beautifully, ass tilted up, belly hanging low and heavy between her spread thighs. Brad groaned at the sight, her pussy swollen, glistening, lips puffy and red, cum leaking steadily down her inner thighs. Then he slammed back into her in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

I cried out, my fingers tangling in his dark hair. He pushed me back onto the cot, his body covering mine. The weight of him, the heat, was everything I’d dreamed of. His hands were everywhere—kneading my breasts, sliding down my ribs, over my hips. He hooked his fingers into the waist of my simple cotton underwear and tore them down my legs. The sound of the fabric ripping was the most erotic thing I’d ever heard. Then his hand was there. Between my legs. On my pussy. A big, rough-skinned palm cupping me, his middle finger sliding through the wetness I couldn’t control.

He moved closer and, still fondling his bulge, Karen sat back in the chair, one leg thrown over the other, squeezing her thighs together to bring pressure to bear on her clitoris. There was something powerfully erotic about the glorious interior of Blackwood Towers. Generations of Burnets had fucked there — not only husbands and wives but, no doubt, a multitude of illicit lovers as well. It was as if the tumescence, liquid arousal and violent pleasure of these people from the past had impregnated the walls. She could almost see them dressed in period costume, ruffles and lace, trooped skirts and powdered wigs. Her mind slipped notches, filled with swirling coloured lights and images of forni