Chat Me Hard Novels & Stories

Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. The story contains explicit adult content of a sexual nature and should not be read by anyone under the age of 18. "Say you're a slut." He said, watching her finger herself, absentmindedly stroking his dick. "I," she gasped, closing her eyes, but being thrilled at saying the words, "I am a slut.. oh, please fuck me." He turned her around, forcing her up onto her hands and knees. She felt him run his hands down her back, up her spread ass, and finally pull on her hips as he positioned himself behind her. She moaned and turned herself up for him, pushing her open cunt back onto him. He leaned forward and grabbed her braids, pulling her head back as he rammed his dick inside her hard. She cried out and tightened around his dick, "Oh god, yes, fuck me. Fuck me hard and dirty." She moaned out. "I'm a fucking slut. Hurt my pussy."

He starts nibbling on my chest and starts pulling off my bra away from my chest. I couldn’t take it anymore, I push him away hard and scream loudly and fall off the couch and try to find my way towards the door. He laughs in a childlike manner and jumps on top of me and bites down on my shoulder blade. “Ahhh!! What are you doing! Get off me!!” I scream clawing on the wooden floor trying to get away from him.He sinks his teeth in me deeper and presses me down on the floor with all his body weight. Tears stream down my face while I groan in the excruciating pain that he is giving me. “Please I beg you, please stop.” I whisper closing my eyes slowly, stopping my struggle against him.He slowly lets me go and gets off me and sits in front of me. I close my eyes and feel his fingers dancing on my spine; he keeps running them back and forth humming a soft tune with his mouth. “What is your name pretty girl?” He slowly bounces his fingers on the soft skin of my thigh. “Isabelle.” I whisper softly.“I’m Daniel; I just wanted to play with you. Why would you hurt me, Isabelle?” He whispers my name coming closer to my ear.I could feel his hot breathe against my neck. A shiver runs down my spine when I feel him kiss my cheek and start to go down to my jaw while leaving small trails of wet kisses. “Please stop it; this is not playing, please.” I hold in my cries and try to push myself away from him.

Patricia, a hard working and diligent nurse. She had the looks, body, brains, compassion and any thing a man would ever need from a woman. But lacks one thing LOVE! Scared by her past relationship experiences, Patricia decided to stay celibate, until love comes knocking at her door, if there is any such thing as love. Love to her is an illusion, and if perchance love exist, it is only for selected people. Love comes knocking at people’s door, at different times, and unexpectedly. It also knocks in different ways, in different people’s lives. Even those who don’t believe in love, can hear the knock of love at their door, at any time. But the question is............. WILL PATRICIA OPEN HER DOOR AND EMBRACE LOVE? IS HE THE ONE DESTINED FOR HER? OR WILL HE BECOME A FRAGMENT OF HER IMAGINATION? Find out in...... STAY WITH ME By Ekpot Goodnews

Warning: Mature Content "Tell me all your sexual fantasies, princess." "I want to be fucked, ruined, choked, and marked until I’m a moaning, crying mess, leaking all over your sheets, daddy." Grace’s world shattered the night she found out her fiancé was gay. Drunk, devastated, and desperate to forget, she stumbled into the wrong hotel room, and into the arms of Apollo Reed. He is a sinfully hot, cold-hearted forty-year-old man, twice her age. He’s everything she was never supposed to want. And everything she never knew she needed. But reality hits hard the next morning when she realizes the man who gave her the first orgasm of her life is her new boss. Will she let him take her again? Please her until she’s trembling, begging, and utterly his? Or will she finally learn that wanting a man like him always comes with a price? "Good girl. Now spread those legs."

I'm due for a promotion when I stumble upon my husband entangled with his childhood sweetheart. After that, I'm secretly admitted to a psychiatric facility. I repeatedly tell the doctors that I'm fine, but all I get is worse abuse and humiliation. When Howard Armstrong visits me every month, I beg him to get me out. Each time, he says, "This is a proper establishment, so you have to follow the doctor's instructions. Don't be unreasonable!" On the day I'm discharged, he speaks to me tenderly and calls me his honey. Later, when I place a divorce agreement before him, he breaks down in tears.

I took a shortcut through the alley and watched Dante Marchetti put a bullet in a man like it was nothing. He saw my face. That was the end of my normal life. Within an hour I was in the back of his car being driven to an estate I had never seen before with gates that locked from the outside and a wardrobe full of clothes in my exact size waiting like someone had known I was coming before I did. He told me I wasn't a prisoner but a guest. He said people who wanted to find me were considerably worse than him and that his walls were the only thing standing between me and a conversation I wouldn't survive. Maybe he was right. The problem is the longer I stayed the harder it became to remember which one was true. Because the man who caught me in that alley wasn't the only version of him. There was another one that nobody else seemed to get to see. The one who stood alone in his dead mother's library looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The one who had my cat brought to the estate because he heard me crying through a closed door and didn't know what else to do about it. The one who almost smiled when I threw a glass at his head. That version of him was the one I couldn't stop thinking about. I came here as a witness. I stayed as something else entirely. Somewhere between the locked doors, the candlelit dinners and the secrets we started sharing in the dark I stopped wanting to leave. The question was whether a woman like me could survive loving a man like him. I was about to find out.

She’s done surviving for everyone else. Now she’ll live for herself—even if it kills her. Kylee has always kept her head down. At school, she’s invisible. At home, she’s broken—caught between a stepfather’s rage and a mother who refuses to see the damage. The only way to cope is silence. Numbness. Disappearing. But then Price moves in next door. He’s all wrong for her: too charming, too curious, too determined to see what she’s worked so hard to bury. Still, Kylee can’t help but let him in. And with Price comes something else—something she can’t explain. Scratches on her skin she didn’t make. Whispers in the night she swears aren’t hers. Visions of a girl who looks just like her, begging to be remembered. As her grip on reality frays, Kylee must choose: stay hidden in the shadows of her pain, or face a truth darker than she ever imagined. Because someone is watching her. Someone who wants her to forget. But this time, Kylee won’t be anyone’s ghost. A haunting, emotional slow-burn romance with a twist of the paranormal. Because sometimes the bravest thing a girl can do is write her own heartbeat—and choose to live it out loud.

The church was full of different kinds of majestic decorations. A theme of white and gold, the color that is perfectly expressing both purity and prosperity. Indeed, it is really f*cking wonderful. But then... On this fre*king wonderful day who would have thought that a mere guest like me who was forced to attend this d*mn wedding of my damn stepsister will become the bride??! “She is right here. The… bride is here. We shall start the ceremony, Mr. Morgan” “Is it her?” “Y-yes. She is the one you will marry.” “Wait what, me?!”

"Chase after me, before it's too late. Chase me like you're obsessed with me." Nazi is just a normal woman, who's working hard for her family, until one day. Nazi meet a billionaire that will change her life, bring a rollercoaster feelings that Nazi never felt before.

"I know, Dad, but Omegas like us have a hard time in this society and I heard the college is built up of ranks, and only wolves with rich parents are allowed to attend it. Lovely is just lucky to get a scholarship there now that they are trying to accept ordinary students. They despise low-class wolves like us, and I can't stand their judgment and prejudice," Daniel clenched his fists into tight balls, anger apparent in his voice. "Enough with the negativity. They are just werewolves like us and think they will like my little girl," Mom commented and continued eating her vegetables. "Daniel is right, even if you don’t want to admit it. They may be werewolves like us, but they treat us Omegas as inferior. They don't see us as equals because of our rank. It's infuriating," my dad commented, his dark eyes burning with fury. "With all the things I have heard about their treatment of Omegas, I don't think I will like them," I admitted, feeling a bit fuzzy. *** Amber Darlington, a young black omega, moves to a new pack with her family looking for a fresh start after being banished from their pack. But instead of finding acceptance among her new packmates, she finds discrimination, bullying, and oppression. She is particularly targeted by Mason, the Alpha’s son, who sees her as an outsider and authority figure. As Mason's prejudice threatens to tear the pack apart, Amber must decide whether to stand up for herself and her family or suffer in silence. Will Amber be able to break free of Mason's oppressive reign? Or will she remain a victim of systemic discrimination?