Dark Wanderer Sex Stories Novels & Stories

With the door to talking about sex cracked open, she added, "I enjoy a good sexual fantasy as much as the next woman, I guess. Which genres of stories do you like most?" "Normally it would be the hot-wife stories," Cheryl answered, "But I was reading a really hot incest/taboo story there the other day where the characters happened to be named Darlene, James, and Shannon." She looked Darlene in her surprised eyes and with a suggestive grin she added, "It's hard for me to imagine that's just coincidence. Did you write that story? Is that your taboo fantasy I was reading?" Darlene was a bit taken aback by her friend's blunt question, but her tone and the look on her face were certainly not judg

It took almost three hours of typing and his encouragement until I had fully unloaded my crappy life onto his shoulders. As he started to tell me more about himself, I found that he was a 55-year-old man who lived about five hundred miles away from me and had led a not dissimilar life. He had been married and divorced twice, and his current wife was not sexual at all. He had been using the chat room as an outlet for his sexual frustrations for two years now and occasionally wrote erotic stories for an online site. All his stories were about his fantasies of having sex with another man, although he claimed he had only tried it twice—neither time was all that satisfying. I asked him to direct

She was winning. Days turned to weeks. More accidents: Bending over in the laundry room, ass up as she “searched” for a sock, pussy lips peeking from under shorts. Brushing past him in narrow halls, her hand “slipping” to graze his cock. Each time, Ethan’s fantasies grew darker—tying her up, edging her until she begged, then fucking her raw. Lila reveled in it, masturbating nightly to the thought of him begging, “Please, Lila, let me fuck you. I need it.”

"Because I have years of fantasies to fulfill, and one night won't be nearly enough." As his mouth found her neck again, Wendy wondered briefly about tomorrow, about professional boundaries and workplace complications. Then his hands slid beneath her skirt again, and she decided tomorrow could take care of itself.

*She grinds her ass back teasingly, hedonistic eyes commanding as she spreads thighs wider, pussy lips parting invitingly, ready for filling. *Eyes widen in shock as they take in the scandalous scene before them - their best friend's mother, Stefanie, sprawled naked on the bed, laptop open to an array of hardcore pornography, her own body glistening with arousal. The provocative invitation hangs heavy in the air, a challenge issued directly to Y/N.*

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.

And I had just been ruined by the man she called her soulmate. I closed my eyes, the ghost of his scent..cedar, sweat, and raw, masculine musk.. filling my senses. It was wrong. It was the dirtiest, most unforgivable thing I had ever done. But as I felt Kade’s heart beating against my back, slow and steady, I knew I would do it again. I realized then that this dirty little affair, this descent into madness and filth, had all started with one single, impossible moment. It had all started when I walked into this very room, silent and unsuspecting, and caught Kade…my sister’s perfect, untouchable husband..with his eyes closed and his nostrils flared, desperately sniffing my dirty underwear.

“Absolutely, Master, I am yours. Have you never even fantasized about having a slave before?” “The last woman I was with was my wife; we never played any fantasy games. I have not touched anyone in ten years.” I felt the pang of loss begin to grow in my chest again. “Master, I am so sorry. I never knew you were married. May I make a suggestion that might help you to understand what you have gotten yourself into?” “I would be glad to hear anything you have to say.” She then suggested a couple of websites for me to read. Stories and such to let me know what I might want to try.

Be honest, what’s the worst, filthiest thing you’ve ever done for money? I’ll give you a minute to think about that. Think very closely… Great, now I’ll tell you what mine is… sex. Filthy dirty sex where I was used like a whore and worse; it wasn’t even by a man. It was a woman. A powerful, rich woman who turned out to be exactly the kind of dirty fantasy my body had been craving for years.

Then he pushes his cock even deeper and we both moan like animals I know this dark romance can destroy everything. It is very bad. It is disgusting. It is the worst kind of sin. But every time his thick cock slides into my wet cunt, every time he slaps my ass and calls me his dirty stepdaughter whore, every time his hot cum leaks out of me later while I sit with my family, I feel more alive than ever. The age gap, the taboo, the constant risk of getting caught — it all makes the pleasure so much stronger and dirtier