Curvy Desire Novels & Stories

“Please… I am your curvy contract cumslut… I will do anything you want… use every hole… please let me cum for you.” Damien watched me struggle with a dark satisfied look in his eyes. He kept one hand firm on the back of my head holding me in place while his thumb played with the remote making the vibrations jump from low to high without warning. Each change sent fresh shocks through my body that made my hips twitch helplessly and more slickness leak down my thighs onto the floor.

Every curve of her body fits perfectly under my hands. The feel of her, alive and soft and real, ignites a hunger that has been simmering for far too long. Waiting is over. Patience is gone. All that exists is her, this moment, and the certainty that whatever comes next is already inevitable. Desire crashes over us, relentless and unstoppable, and there is no turning back from what is about to happen.

but my very spirit endlessly perverted by speculation concerning whatever delirious dance this upstart pretender and I are enacting upon the stage? I'm panting like a winded cur by the climax of this maddening self-interrogation. Every pulse pounding with the seething refusal to let this ridiculously inflated farce go any further. To allow my transcendent destiny among legends to remain forever toxified by a poisonous infatuation for my sworn enemy.

Maybe it was my tendency or my nature that had become like this, but the problem was that it was getting very difficult for me. I had just opened my shirt when I felt my inner wolf was struggling to come out of this intoxication. There was only and only lust in my mind now, so I pushed him back into my mind. This girl was provoking me. Maybe he likes to play hard. I removed the sheet over him. I could clearly see the form of that sleeping beauty in my sharp eyes, which now had a veil of lust. I could not see the face due to light work, but I found it to be more beautiful than before. No makeup, innocence full of innocence was tempting me. I went close to him and smelled his scent. "Wonderful

She’s self centered like that. I notice that it takes mystery woman a moment before she says, “I can’t say that I’m sure. Can you tell?” I study the piece for a few moments again and say the first thing that comes out of my mouth “Longing. There’s a peacefulness that transcends the piece.”

“Uh… just… thinking about the… the desire part. Yeah. The way he wants something so bad it… curves… no, consumes him.” Tyler kicked him under the desk. Miss Voss tilted her head, amused but professional. “Interesting take. Desire does consume, doesn’t it? Let’s explore that.” She straightened up, the movement sending a subtle, mesmerizing bounce through her chest. As she walked back to the front, her ass swayed in that skirt, the fabric pulling tight with every step, leaving the boys in silent, collective awe. The lesson continued for the full period. Miss Voss divided them into discussion groups, circulating the room with that graceful walk that made her curves impossible to ignore.

His hands gripped my hips, holding me exactly where he wanted me. “Look at you,” he murmured, eyes locked on where we were joined. “Taking every inch so beautifully. Your pretty cunt is stretched around me, creaming all over my dick. You love this, don’t you? Love being fucked by a man who can’t get enough of your curves.” “I do,” I moaned, nails digging into his back. “It feels so good… harder, please.”

The slow-burning stretch of being filled by him is turning my brain to liquid, not to mention every other organ in my body. It hurts, but it’s not enough. I need all of him. Suddenly, I’m overcome by a desperate need to be filled by him. A burning desire to have him deep inside me, until there is no space left between us. My pussy throbs with a deep, carnal longing for his cock. Dusting my lips over the skin of his neck, I smile as it elicits a deep growl in his throat. “I want more,” I whisper. “More?”

a fallen pen, her short skirt riding up to reveal the curve of her ass and the faint sheen of dried cum on her thighs. “Oops,” she murmured, glancing back at him. “Clumsy me.” Damon’s eyes flicked down for a brief second, then returned to her face. No hunger. No crack in the armor. “Sit down.” She obeyed, perching on the edge of the desk instead of a chair, legs slightly parted. “Professor Damon… you saw me getting fucked. You know how wet I get. How loud I moan.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t you want to feel it for yourself? I can be quiet… or I can be as loud as you want.”

Her stomach was flat, her hips flared, and between her long, powerful legs, a dark, inviting delta of curls promised untold delights. Moose and Crume wasted no time. They surged forward, their hands, calloused and rough, finding her. One gripped her waist, hoisting her, while the other hand burrowed into the fiery expanse of her hair, tugging her head back. Her neck arched, exposing the delicate line of her throat. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice a low growl, “Show me your desire.”