Dirty Minded Poems Novels & Stories

They lay there on the dirty locker room floor like two used-up whores, bodies slick with sweat and cum, breathing like they’d just finished the hardest workout of their lives. Alex’s chest heaved, her heavy tits rising and falling, nipples still hard from all the biting. Jordan was half on top of her, one leg thrown over Alex’s thigh, her shaved pussy still pressed against Alex’s hairy one, leaking slowly. The emergency lights buzzed overhead. The whole place smelled like raw pussy, ass, and two women who’d just hate-fucked each other stupid.

“Alright. But you’re not allowed to read mine.” “Fair.” We start slow. I write things that make my cheeks warm—late-night kisses in unexpected places, slow dancing when it’s just us, being pinned against a wall just to be kissed. I write about how I want my pussy to be eaten like he's a hungry man who hasn't had a proper decent meal in days. I write about lots of nasty, dirty things and I'm blushing as I'm writing each one. I drop each one in quickly. “You're not allowed to read mine,” I warn him.

Loved being their filthy cum-slut. My breath hitched, cock throbbing painfully now, fully erect and leaking pre-cum into my underwear. Her words painted pictures too vivid, her body writhing, slick and open, filled by multiple men while she moaned like a bitch in heat. I imagined myself among them, gripping her hips, slamming into her from behind as she confessed her depravity to me alone. 'Sandra,' I growled, the word escaping rougher than intended. 'These tales... they torment you. And me.'

He had worked it in slowly — twisting it, pulling it back slightly, then pushing it deeper — all while murmuring the filthiest things against the small of my back. “That’s it… open up for me. Let that pretty hole swallow it. Fuck, look at you. Taking this thick plug so well. I want you to feel this all night, babygirl. Every time you sit down, every time you stand up, every time you walk… I want you to remember that your ass is already full. That it’s mine.”

Click after filthy click. The more he stroked, the deeper his mind sank. “Fuck… imagine some rich older man seeing these,” he whispered, voice husky. His hand sped up. “Pin me down and call me his dirty little slut… force my legs open and breed my hole until I’m leaking cum for days.” His fantasies turned darker, wilder. “Degrade me. Tell me I’m just a set of holes for superior cock. Slap my face with it. Choke me while pounding me raw. Fill me up until my belly swells and I can’t even walk…”

“Louder. I want the neighbors to wonder what I am doing to you.” He set a rhythm that was not kind. His hips slapped my wet skin. One hand fisted in my hair and pulled my head back so my throat was exposed. He spit down onto my cheek and it ran toward my mouth. I licked what I could reach. He spit again, heavier, and this time it landed on my tongue. “Dirty boy. Getting fucked in the pool you came here to learn in.” He drove in to the hilt. “Say thank you.” “Th-thank you—”

I cursed myself for entertaining such treacherous thoughts, but they persisted, flooding my mind with unwanted visions. I imagined the gentle brush of his fingertips, the soft caress of his lips, and the shiver-inducing sensation of his mouth on mine. My mind's eye conjured images of myself beneath him, arching in ecstasy as he awakened sensations I'd never known. The Darkness within me reveled in these depraved fantasies, refusing to relinquish its hold on my imagination.

I start rubbing my button and pleasure surges through my body. “Such a dirty girl,” Holt’s whisper in my ear. “Touching yourself while you’re stuffed with two cocks. I bet you wish you had a third cock stuffed in your tight little ass right now, don’t you?” As degrading as Holt’s words are, I’m so turned on that I’m past the point of caring. I use his words as fuel, touching myself harder as I replay them in my mind. Dirty little girl. Bet you wish you were stuffed with three cocks.

** Trigger Warning** This collection is not safe. Not for your morals. Not for your comfort. Inside these pages, you’ll find public degradation, corruption of innocence, voyeurism, cum worship, daddy kinks, strap-ons, virgin ruin, twisted love, and begging that sounds a lot like prayer. There are no safe words here. Only wrong men. Wet sheets. And women who stop pretending they want to be saved. If you’ve ever said “just one more chapter” with a hand between your thighs

“Feel my fingers fucking both your greedy little holes? Your pussy is so fucking wet it’s dripping down to your ass, making it nice and slick for me. You like being stuffed full like this, don’t you? My dirty little waitress getting her cunt and tight virgin ass played with by a dangerous mafia boss.” “Yes—god, yes—” I cried out, hips rolling shamelessly against his hand now. The pressure was building again, faster and hotter than before. Every thrust of his fingers sent white-hot sparks racing through my entire body. The wet, obscene sounds of him fingering both my holes filled the luxurious bedroom — slick, filthy, rhythmic squelching that made my cheeks burn with shame and arousal.