Dirty Fan Fiction Novels & Stories

Chapter 1 My fingers hovered over the send button longer than they should have. The thesis chapter looked perfect; tight analysis on Victorian repression and hidden longing but exhaustion had made me careless. I’d attached the wrong document from my desktop, the one I swore no one would ever see. My private journal. The raw late-night fantasies I poured out after Professor Brandy’s lectures, when his voice still echoed in my head like smoke. I hit send anyway. It was midnight and it was too late to fix it.

And I couldn’t control myself to stay quiet anymore. “Unghhhhhh” “Damn, you like it when I say dirty things don’t you?.” I couldn’t talk. I was out of breath. “Finally, someone that gets me. Your sister doesn’t like it when I talk dirty, you know. But you, you're perfect for me. My perfect little whore” “Unghhh,… Ahhhhh….” “Yes baby, just like that. Let me hear you moan like the perfect little slut you are”

He reached for a toilet paper on his desk and gently wiped his chest and abdomen. The thought made my nipples, still exposed in the cool air, tighten again. I hadn’t had dirty thoughts about a man other than Nathan. I certainly hadn’t ever had phone sex with anyone besides him. I felt both aroused and ashamed.

"Sex is always... boring with him so I never cum. I've been faking my orgasm since we got married." Seraphine felt the sweet sensation stop. Perhaps he was shocked. Maybe. The feather continued its maddening path, tracing the outline of her labia, dipping slightly into her entrance before retreating. Her muscles tensed, straining against the cuffs. "I'm tired of pleasuring myself... I want a rough fuck by a real man," she continued, the words pouring out of her now, fueled by the teasing and the darkness. He clicked his tongue, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Interesting wishes whore"

My legs felt like they'd give out. And then my brain started working again. What the fuck just happened? I let my stepbrother jerk me off in a janitor's closet. No, that's not right. I didn't just let him. I wanted it. I ground against him like a dog in heat. I bit him. I told him to shut me up. What is wrong with me? He's supposed to be the rich asshole who ignores me. He's supposed to be the guy whose best friend fucked my girlfriend. He's not supposed to make me feel like this. Like I'm not invisible. Like I matter. Like? I'm something worth looking at.

He kept on pacing around, looking for ideas to solve the current situation on ground. "Arghhh" he screamed out and punched the wall hard in frustration as he couldn't come up with an idea. His fingers raked through his hair agitatedly. The only thing that could calm him down right now is rough sex, a sex where he would be able to pour all his anger and frustration into and he didn't even need to search for whom he would do that with as he already has one at home, his new sex doll, Gemma.

This is one of the perks of a home office. Bored from reading about money and more impending financial doom, I decided to jump-start my day with a little p**n surf. A quick click to one of my favorite sites and my eyes were now scanning endless thumbnails of tits and ass. I read a few hot stories and watched a video clip. My cock begged for some attention and so it received as I fantasized into a delightful daze. Something then suddenly caught my eye from outside the French doors, which I obviously was sitting right in front of.

Please note: This a dark romance story, it features dark content. Alissia POV I sit at my desk, staring blankly at the blinking cursor on my screen. It mocks me, as if it knows I have no idea where to start with my latest attempt. Dark romance. The genre I never thought I’d touch. But after bombing miserably in everything else—comedy, fantasy, sci-fi, even horror—I figured I’d give it a shot. How hard could it be to blend the raw, twisted emotions of a toxic relationship with an edge of danger? Apparently, harder than I thought.

The rest of us took her lead and seated ourselves around the basement, Jonie and Mitch together on the couch with the rest of us finding chairs. “I’m not exactly sure. Whatever it was had to do with their personal dirt.” “Personal dirt?” “When the Dirt blows in, it brings with it everybody’s personal dirt.” “What do you mean?” “Those things in our lives that we’d like to stay buried, forgotten, in other words, our personal dirt. Here’s mine.” She went over to the computer and jiggled the mouse, dismissing the screensaver. Underneath the screensaver was the F******k page of a man in his late forties.

"But I may have imagined this scenario once or twice." Felix's laugh was low and sensual. "Only once or twice?" Before she could answer, his thumb found the damp center of her panties, pressing firmly against her clit through the silk. Wendy gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily. "So responsive," Felix murmured, increasing the pressure. "I've imagined making you wet like this during every boring budget meeting for the past year." His confession sent another rush of heat between her legs. "Tell me what you want," he commanded, his thumb now moving in slow circles. "I need to hear you say it."