Dale10 Sex Stories Novels & Stories

Twenty-five men. Twenty-five stories. One thing they all have in common is desire. Some men fall for the person they were never supposed to want. A forbidden crush on a straight boss. A brother's best friend who was always off-limits. A divorce lawyer who becomes far more than a professional. A bodyguard who gets dangerously close to his client. A fake boyfriend who doesn't stay fake for long. A retired adult-film star determined to leave his past behind, until someone recognizes the man he used to be. There are also rivals who can't stand each other, roommates who discover an attraction they never expected, supposedly straight married men whose lives are turned upside

I leaned back in the deep leather chair of my private office, the late afternoon light filtering through half-drawn blinds and casting long shadows across the Persian rug. The room smelled faintly of sandalwood and clean linen, a deliberate choice to help clients feel both grounded and safe. My name is Dr. Adrian Hale. For the last six years I have practiced a form of sex therapy that most traditional therapists would never dare. I do not simply talk about intimacy. I create it. I guide my clients through their blocks, fears, and inhibitions by sharing physical connection with them, always with clear consent, strict boundaries, and their complete agency. The body remembers what words alone o

They both climax again. "Another round," Raja demands. 'No,' Tales screams in his mind. They shift positions again, with Tales leaning against the red room door and Raja thrusting from behind. "Another round," Raja repeats. 'Stop,' Tales pleads silently. Their positions change once more. Raja is performing oral sex on Tales while Tales reciprocates. Tales is on the verge of collapse. He's exhausted. He can barely stroke Raja's manhood. He has no strength left, but Raja doesn't seem interested in letting him rest. Just as Tales feels his tongue near the entrance, he climaxes and passes out.

Cathy's POV The soft knocks turned sharper. Lila’s little voice cut straight through the heavy air of the bedroom. “Daddy? Cathy? I heard her. Open the door. Please.” Damien’s cock was still buried deep inside me, thick and half-hard, his cum slowly leaking out around him and sliding down the insides of my thighs. My heart slammed against my ribs. I froze, legs still tangled with his, chest pressed to his, the scent of sex thick between us.

The flames crackled warmly as night fully settled in. Mom and Dad told old family stories, laughing and roasting marshmallows. I sat across from Damon, pretending to listen, but my eyes kept drifting to him. The way the firelight danced across his sharp jaw, the way his shirt stretched over his chest… all I could think about was getting fucked. Nothing more. My pussy was aching, clenching rhythmically, dripping so much I was sure the insides of my thighs were slick.

No foreplay was required in this ecstatic world of perfection, and penetration was effected in a single snag-free glide. Tumbling back to reality, and almost falling off his stool in the process, Elliot sighed with regret. He really loved the ‘hotel room’ fantasy, although he had to admit it wasn’t entirely all his own work. The protagonists - Diamanda and himself — were his choice of course, but the scenario, the setting and the nitty-gritty of the bedroom action came straight from one of the lady’s own stories, The Spider's Web, which was all about a beautiful, sexually voracious woman who picked up young men in bars and lured them to hotel rooms to fuck them.

The phone was on speaker and on the nightstand as Darla had called us on conference; she was bragging again. “Ow, you're the luckiest girl alive right now.” Daisy said. “Even celebrities are not living your life.” One of our other friends said, all admiring her. “It's not luck; it's my pussy. I got a good one.” Darla said, and I almost laughed. Yes, that was a joke because she was lying. She was telling us Sebastian was with her, that he was making breakfast for her right now, but he was here; Sebastian was right under me, groaning and grunting as his cock slammed in and out of my dripping pussy.

“Does this bore you?” “Sorry, Ma’am.” It wasn’t so much that it was boring, it was that it was just stories. He needed more. “And then today, at lunch, I seduced a UPS guy. All tan and muscles, he looked great in his uniform shorts but he looked even better out of them. Nine-inch cock, at a minimum. Straight and thick. And boy could he eat. Someone had trained that boy well. I had three orgasms before we even got to the actual fucking. I thought about you—stuck here, cleaning the bathroom or the kitchen or whatever it was you were doing.”

Felix finally pulled out slowly, watching with satisfaction as his cum oozed from her well-fucked hole. Layla turned around on shaky legs, facing him. Her hair was messy, her body flushed and marked with his handprints. She looked thoroughly used and thoroughly satisfied. Felix pulled her close, kissing her deeply. “That was better than I expected for a first day,” he murmured against her lips. Layla smiled, still catching her breath. “Does this mean I’m hired?” He chuckled, his hand sliding down to squeeze her cum-smeared ass. “Oh, you’re definitely hired. And I think we’re going to need daily cleaning sessions from now on.”

Pinky squinted to read it, her eyes tracing the loops and crosses. "Collection of short stories for ladies," the title read. "Stories of desire, of awakening, of the first time." Pinky blinked, her eyes widening as she read on. The handwriting was feminine, secretive, as if the writer were sharing her most guarded thoughts with only the pages. It was a confession. A revelation. As she began to read.