Chastity Fiction Novels & Stories

Q wouldn’t intentionally steer him wrong. Chastity was in her room at the estate. She had just changed into a long, blue night shirt. It was after eleven. She wasn’t like most girls her age. Most girls her age would be hitting the town on Friday night. Unless Chelsea invited her out on a night on the town, she stayed home on Friday and Saturday nights. It just wasn’t her thing. She slipped under the covers. The high count sheets felt so good and soft. She leaned back on the pillows. She was about to pick up her tablet to finish reading a book when Chelsea’s cell rang.

I ask. Kira doesn’t say a word, so I stop. "Rhys," she begs. "Is it?" I ask again. "Yes," she mumbles. "What else?" I demand. Kira shivers when I trail my fingers down her stomach. She moans my name, the sound of it rushing straight to my cock. I pull her shirt open the rest of the way. "Here’s what’s gonna happen." I kiss her belly. "You are going to read me every one of those fantasies, and I will make them come true." Another kiss, this time much lower. "I will spend the night giving you something real to write about."

He made me ride him, his hands on my hips guiding me as I bounced on his thick cock, my sore ass slapping against his thighs. “Imagine it,” he whispered as I neared another orgasm. “Your belly starting to swell in a few weeks, tits getting fuller, everyone wondering who knocked up the good girl. Only we’ll know it was your stepfather breeding you right under this roof.” The fantasy pushed me over the edge again. I came with a broken moan, collapsing onto his chest as he filled me for the third time that evening. I laid lumped against him, tangled together with him, his hand resting possessively over my lower belly.

She came hard, biting her lip to stifle her moans, her pussy clenching around two fingers as waves of forbidden pleasure crashed through her. The fantasy didn't fade. Over the next weeks, it consumed her. During mundane tasks—grocery shopping, client sessions, even making dinner for Mark—her mind wandered back to that thick, dark shaft. She masturbated nightly, sometimes multiple times, using her largest dildo while whispering filthy things to herself. I want that big black cock. I need it ruining my tight white pussy. She felt guilty, but the guilt only made the arousal sharper. Mark's average five-inch dick felt inadequate now. She faked orgasms more convincingly than ever, all while dream

She lapped my clit slowly, as two of her fingers pushed into my cunt at the same time, curling up against my walls. I pushed back against her mouth, desperate for more. She pulled away just long enough to spank me again, then went back to licking my swollen clit and fingering both of us at the same time. Pulling away briefly from both of us, she untied one of my hands and guided it between Belle's legs. "Devour that sweet cunt like you're starved," Tasha ordered. I shifted as much as the other rope allowed and buried my face between Belle's thighs. My tongue found her clit and circled it while Tasha kept fingering her ass.

Chapter 4 Scarlett's POV If someone, even a psychic with a crystal ball, had told me this morning that by afternoon I’d have the hottest man in the city on his knees, his head buried between my thighs, devouring me like I was his last meal, I’d have laughed in their face. Dismissed it as nonsense, something too far fetched to even even consider, especially since things like this just did not happen to someone like me. Yet here I was, sprawled on the leather chaise in Blackwell Ashford’s private lounge, legs spread wide over his shoulders, fingers tangled in his hair, still trembling from the orgasm that had just torn through me.

Clarissa lost count. She lost herself. She was a vessel, a toy, a thing being passed around a circle of hungry, anonymous men. Her world was reduced to the push and pull of flesh, the taste of salt and sweat, the burn of stretch, the shocking warmth of internal releases, and the thick, cooling splatter of cum on her skin.

I placed my bag on the couch and began to unpack. "oh come on Stacy it's fine... and its gonna be fun.... please". I pout. "okay.... now stop making that ugly face" I chuckle. Stacy reached for my bag and brought out the pack of condoms. "What the fuck..... you didn't use this?" I roll my eyes at her. "Woah.... that's quite unheard of... going out with a guy as Gary and you know not....." She smirks. " or..... did he hit it bare?" I huff

Hilda, a voluptuous 34-year-old woman, had always been drawn to the darker, more taboo aspects of sexuality. She had spent years exploring her desires, pushing boundaries and indulging in the forbidden. Her two closest friends, Beatrice and Clarissa, were kindred spirits – both equally curvaceous and adventurous.

WARNING Explicit stepmother/stepson incest (he calls her "Mom" while he's balls-deep) • Raw cheating on the husband/father • Rough degrading sex: choking, slapping, spitting, hair-pulling, "slut" talk • Bareback creampies, facials, swallowing • Almost-getting-caught adrenaline • Age-gap filth + forbidden obsession Arranged-marriage jealousy and heartbreaking goodbye sex This is NOT romance. This is pure, dripping, no-limits taboo erotica. About "Hooked on his Dick" One open door was all it took. Natasha walks in on her stepson Noah stroking the biggest cock she's ever seen and instead of walking out, her panties soak through. From that second, they're doomed. Secret quickies while Dad