Dirty Smut Stories Novels & Stories

Jake watched it drip down my ass with dark satisfaction. He collapsed beside me, pulling me into his arms. His hand slid between my thighs, his fingers gently stroking my cum-filled pussy. “This isn’t a one-time thing,” he murmured against my hair. “You’re mine now, Samantha. My dirty little stepsister.” I smiled, still glowing from the intense pleasure, my body marked inside and out by my stepbrother. “That’s good,” I whispered. “Because I don’t want to stop too.” We lay tangled together, the scent of sex heavy in the air. The accident had turned into something far more dangerous and far more addictive. As his fingers lazily played with his cum leaking from me, I knew we had only just begun

Our Secret: My Dirty Tale is a compilation of short erotic stories intended for a MATURE AUDIENCE. Please note that ALL characters in these stories are above the age of consent. I would give a trigger warning, but there are wayyy too many. What to expect? Every kink possible. Every sexual pairing possible. Leave your morals behind, grab a toy or two. God knows you'll need a helping hand 😉*wink* Happy-horny reading! Xo, Athena♡

“WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE LODGE.” I didn’t open them. Not until I was home. Showered. Alone. Back in the armor of city lights and sharp suits. Then I did what I always do. I poured a glass of red. Opened my laptop. And braced for the mess. But I wasn’t prepared for this. Title: “Locked In: A True Story of Lust in the Storm” By: Jax Hart I blinked. Then clicked. The bastard had published a preview. A whole fucking chapter. On his newsletter. To over two million subscribers.

Although the police are actively pursuing and preventing this crime, this criminal activity is still going on vigorously because the profits are too much. - It stinks. – Lucasta grimaced and frowned. - Yes, but after being marinated with chemicals, they will become delicious fresh meat and make Lucasta salivate. – Samson smiled, and wrapped his arms around her waist, preparing to take her out. - Are you still teasing me? Can't harvest anything. – Lucasta lightly pinched him, pretending to be angry. Before he took her away from the smelly warehouse, she took a few photos. She did not want her and Samson's efforts to be meaningless.

as Gwen lowered down and began sucking on the juicy meat, kissing and caressing her stepmother's skin. These were the kinds of thoughts that kept him up at night. Furiously stroking away, that is. Imagining and dreaming... hoping and praying! Though knowing that never in a million years could his mother-daughter threesome experience ever come to fruition. It was the kind of thing left to outlandish p**n videos and subpar smut. The kind of unbelievable, entirely outrageous story lines where several sexy women just miraculously throw themselves at a young, horny man – as if his penis possessed some ungodly power that women found irresistible. No, not Harry... he knew better than to equate real

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.

"Good slut. Sleep now, dream of me using you." Dawn crept, pain throbbing constant reminder. Mia knocked— "Up yet?" I panicked, Jax slipping out window quiet, cock print on my mind. Dressed slow, pussy leaking cum down thighs, sore walk to kitchen. His eyes met mine over coffee, smirk promising: "Anytime." Dirty heat simmered weekend far from done, brother's claim deeper. But guilt twisted with lust Mia chatting clueless, her brother’s cum inside me. He cornered me later by sink, hand under skirt quick fingers sliding folds, parting open. "Shh, anytime quickie," growled dirty.

“Good. Because I have not forgotten you either. Every time you clean this room, I find little traces of you. The way you fold the towels perfectly. The faint scent of your shampoo. I left those chocolates for you on purpose. Did you like them?” “I did,” I admitted, meeting his gaze. “They were the best I have ever tasted. Thank you. You did not have to do that.” “I wanted to. You work hard, Hazel. You deserve something sweet.” He stepped even closer, towering over me. “Tell me more about your studies. What is your favorite kind of forbidden story?” I shifted in the chair, suddenly very aware of how alone we were. “Ones where the powerful man notices the innocent girl. Where the attraction is

Petty, I know, but petty is my superpower. Damien was on my bed, propped on an elbow like he belonged to the furniture. Shoes off, sleeves rolled, the kind of stillness that makes you want to poke just to see if he moves. I’d been telling him a ridiculous story about a girl in my department who claimed her professor had plagiarized her TikTok caption. He was pretending to listen, which meant he was listening to everything but organizing it into a more sensible version. “You’re not even smiling,” I said, bouncing my heel against the mattress.