Booktok Spicy Reads Novels & Stories

Chloe's POV I thought I was just having a wet dream. I was floating in the heavy, warm darkness after spending half the night writing one of my erotica books. My body was stretched out on tangled sheets and I was wearing nothing but an old cotton T-shirt that had ridden up to my ribs. I thought the book I was writing was affecting my dream because someone was sucking my pussy in the dream. I felt a tongue. Slow and deliberate. It slid from the bottom of my slit up to my clit in one long, dirty lick.

Introduction: Black housewife finds young white stud at bookstore. Read and enjoy.... ********** "Hi, may I help you find something?" I ask as I approach a strikingly beautiful woman looking around the bookstore. "Yes," she smiles at me. "I'm looking for books on orgasms." She says it so matter-of-factly that it catches me off guard. Or maybe it's her exquisite eyes, deep brown with an almost oriental look, coupled with her mahogany complexion that makes me catch my breath.

“Lower yourself slowly, baby. Let me watch that tight pussy stretch around your stepbrother’s big dick.” I gripped the base of his cock with one hand—it was so thick my fingers barely met—and lined him up with my soaked entrance. The head nudged my puffy lips open. I sank down inch by inch, gasping loudly as he stretched me open. “Oh my god… he’s so fucking big,” I moaned. The burn was intense and perfect, my walls fluttering and gripping every ridge and vein as I took him deeper than I thought possible. When my ass finally rested against his hips, I felt impossibly full, his cock buried to the hilt inside me.

I hastily asked … not pausing or stopping the fast fucking rhythm “Yes” she replied “now give me a gallon of hot spunk. I want to feel your cum dripping out of me like Andrea did in the tackroom. When I saw that, I just had to have you. I loved the taste of your cum as it dribbled out of her ………….

The paper fell away, revealing an old leather-bound volume, its cover embossed with faded gold lettering in a language that looked like a mix of Latin and something far older. “Tah — Rituals of the Eternal Flame and Flesh.” A sex god. Not just any fertility deity — a lost god of desire, ecstasy, and carnal dominion. The dealer’s notes had been vague, but the title alone sent heat rushing through me. I opened the book carefully. The pages were thick vellum, illuminated with intricate drawings of a towering male figure with glowing eyes, surrounded by writhing bodies in states of rapturous abandon. As I turned the first page, a faint warmth spread through the room. The watching feeling returne

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I retracted my mouth but was licking the top with my tongue profusely until I heard the door flung open. I need no soothsayer to tell me of the person who was inside but at his touch over my shoulder, I whirled back sending a hot slap across his cheeks. Sending another kick down to his scrotum before grabbing his cock. My lips caught his, my tongue roughly roamed the corners of his inner mouth. My teeth took a sweet bite out of his lips, I could taste his blood, they were so delicious. He has this weak cry and breath emanating from within him. I could read his thoughts, the motherfucker wanted to grab my milky flesh, giving them a rough squeeze.

The spine’s creased like it’s been read a hundred times. I flip it over without thinking. It's probably some romance novel. I open to where the bookmark is. My eyes scan the lines. “…rough fingertips dragging over sensitive skin until he found her already soaked. She gasped when he pushed two fingers inside her without warning. ‘So fucking wet for me,’ he growled against her throat, pumping slowly, letting her feel every inch of his fingers stretching her open…” My mouth goes dry. My pulse is suddenly loud in my ears. I read the next paragraph. Then the next.

Perfect. As I flipped through the chapters, the story heated up fast. The protagonist, a shy librarian much like me, was cornered in the stacks by a dominant stranger. His hands roamed her body without mercy, fingers teasing her nipples until they ached, then dipping lower to claim her wetness. I shifted on the couch, feeling that familiar tingle between my legs. God, why did these books always get me so worked up? My thighs pressed together instinctively, seeking friction.

“I’ve never really thought about it.” “Ali,” she sighs. “Have you even read a good spicy book?” “You mean p**n?” I ask her over a row of glittery vibrators. “Yes I mean p**n!” She exclaims. “Good old fashioned p**n! With some monsters maybe. I feel like you’d enjoy a good monster fucker book.” “I.. don’t know about that.” “Alright,” she says loudly. “There’s a book section over there. Let’s find you a nice steamy one.”