Dirty Minded Poems Novels & Stories

lets shred the whole **** book, perhaps? lets set fire to the town, perhaps? im tired of pretending to be your precious child, perfect student, "the innocent one" i want to paint obscene material in your blood (in the name of art, of course) @god do you ever feel unreal? are you even real? am i? no i have to be real, I can feel the blood dripping down my arm, the bones cracking in my spine im real. im real. im real. everything hurts!!!!! **** i cant wait to rip you all to shreds !!!!!!

The filthy words sent a fresh gush of wetness flooding around his fingers. Zinnia's cheeks burned with shame. “Cedric, we—” “Shut the fuck up with the innocent act,” he snarled, but his voice was thick with arousal. “You know what happens to bad girls, huh?” He pumped his fingers faster, curling them against that spongy spot that made her see stars. Zinnia shook her head helplessly. “They get punished, Zinnia. And you'll get punished,” he said. A soft, broken sound vibrated through Zinnia’s chest as Cedric's thick fingers stretched her cum-slick walls, the lewd squelching sounds echoing in the basement.

Parang hinahayaan niya lang akong mataranta at mas lalong nakakagulo 'yon kasi sa pagitan ng tawanan ng mga kaibigan namin, sa pagitan ng ingay ng bus at ng maagang araw na unti-unting sumisilip sa mga bintana naramdaman kong may mga pusong hindi talaga marunong maging simple. Some loves arrive in quiet prayers, Some burn like smoke in hidden airs. One feels like peace, one dares affairs, One heals the wounds, one leaves you tears. And maybe hearts were never meant for fairness, Maybe mine was built for... illicit affairs. ────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“My personal mile-high slut.” The dirty words combined with the choking and deep penetration pushed her toward another peak. Lila pushed back against him, meeting every thrust as best she could in the cramped quarters. The mirror captured every filthy detail, his powerful body slamming into her from behind, her face contorted in pleasure, the risk of discovery hanging over them like a blade. Damien fucked her harder, the wet slap of skin on skin barely concealed by the engine noise. He spanked her ass sharply, the sound echoing dangerously. “Come again. I want to feel this pussy milk my cock.”

I’m a disgusting, filthy whore. For years, I’ve hidden the darkest fantasies that consume me every single night. Gangbangs. Being used by multiple men at once. Rough, degrading, cum-soaked, no-limits sex where I’m nothing but a set of warm holes for them to destroy. I dream about being passed around, choked, slapped, filled in every hole until cum is leaking from my pussy, ass, and mouth. I touch myself thinking about it constantly — three, four, five cocks at the same time, stretching me, using me, breeding me like a cheap slut.

“Take your priest’s cock in your dirtiest hole.” “Yes, father...” I moaned. “Clean up my dirtiest hole with your pure and holy cock... cleanse me deep, dear father.” My filthy words seemed to spark something inside him. He increased his pace, pounding into me fastly. I pushed back against him, moaning like a whore. He fucked me harder, the sound of his hips slapping against my ass echoing in the small room. I came again, my ass clenching around him as pleasure ripped through me.

They unzipped their flies and let their cocks drop out. I licked my lips in anticipation. I felt filthy and dirty and was loving every second. The men looked at BC each other not wanting to be the one who went first. I waited patiently. I knew it would happen eventually. I looked up expectantly. This was going to be very messy. Some of the men's cocks were stiffening and this was going to go everywhere. The silence was finally broken by the patter of warm piss against my skin and clothing as the first man unleashed his torrent upon me. He aimed his stream at my face and I felt the warm liquid splash against my cheeks and tickled down my chin. It smelt of sweet cider and he had clearly drunk

But, I pray you, do not be too hasty to condemn, too quick to turn away, too eager to avert your sensibilities from what I am about to say. Let me begin, then, with my mother, for is that not how all of us begin? Well, I know, before that, before my birth, there must have been some dark deed, some act of love or passion, rape or seduction, or perhaps a ritual coupling. I never knew who my father was. Oh, there were men who came to my mother's bed, not the rude peasants from the village, not the crude swordsmen from the castle, but huge men, terrifying in dark hooded robes, terrifying even more when they shed those robes to reveal gaunt, pale bodies. They were tall, almost skeletally thin, wi