Dirty Stories For Women Novels & Stories

The sex club smelled like sweat, cum, and leather. Sariah stood beside her husband, tight dress clinging to her thighs, panties already damp just from the moans echoing through the dim room. She wanted to feel something. Anything. Keon hadn’t touched her right in months. Their fucking had turned soft, forgettable—quick strokes, no filth, no hunger. She missed being wrecked. Screamed for. Fucked until her pussy gushed. A couple moaned near the back room, the woman tied to a beam, her tits bouncing while some stranger slammed into her soaked cunt from behind.

They distract you and lead you astray and when you finally come to your senses it’s too late, they’ve destroyed everything and left you with nothing but the clothes on your back. Women are worthless and disgusting, posing half-naked and some of them naked just to make money, to sell lipstick or a handbag and the funny thing is they let men make them do it and they chose to do it. Such lying, filthy, deceitful whores, Nikiwe had me there, smart woman, trying to lure me with her looks. I'm way too smart for that trick.

“You’ve done that before, and I’m hoping this whiskey will keep an old anger in check.” Leaning back, she crossed her legs. “You want to know a secret?” I blinked at her aloofly, not interested in whatever it is she wants to make known. “You do not seem interested, but I’ll make it known, so you wouldn’t repeat the same mistake. That slap didn’t make me angry or push me away, if anything, it turned me on.” This bitch is crazy. “I love being submissive to a sadist, so I’m used to the pain.” She opened the file and signed on it, sealing the deal with S.H. “You want to know another secret?” She pushed the file towards me.

"Report it? Who said anything about reporting it?" He leans in closer, his scent—something like sandalwood and expensive gin—overwhelming me. He shushes me gently, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’re all human. To be honest, I watch it all the time. I could give you a list of performers that make those Brazzers clips worth it. I’ve been following Lana Rhoades and Abella Danger for years." My jaw nearly hits my desk. I look up at him, shocked not because he watches p**n, but by the casual admission. "You... you do?"

I figured the Internet would have put all those magazines out of business, but I guess it didn't. To the left of the door, there was a long counter with the cash register. A dark haired young woman stood there ready to check out the patrons. I would best describe her as goth. Her hair was jet black and cut into a short bob. She was wearing a black leather vest, a black leather skirt, black lipstick and had nose and lip piercings. Those piercings were black as well, but since they were metallic, they did reflect the bright lights of the store. The only thing of color she had was a red studded color. I thought she looked weird, but also somehow compelling. I smiled as she looked at me and then

, the caller ends. "Thank you, Mia, God bless you too, now let's take our next caller, Matt", a beep sounds. "Hello Matt" "Hey Rita, actually I'm calling from London. I need your opinion on something actually" "Go ahead, I'm your girl" "I met this lady and we had sex, then we happened to meet each other and we fucked again which wasn't a coincidence, but now she acts like she doesn't want to see me again, like my touch doesn't affect her anymore, like she doesn't want me to fill her up anymore", Rita knew who exactly it was but she decided to play dumb.

“ It’s nothing. Just a library book I checked out. By accident. Just a silly mistake.“ Now that was the understatement of the century. “A silly mistake, my behind,” Edith cackled. “The Kama Sutra. The Joy of Sex. Dating for Dummies. The Multi-Orgasmic Couple. The Girlfriend's Guide to Great Sex.” Edith pointed to each of the books as she listed off the titles. Picking up the books, Mattie said, “This is my business. My personal, private business.” “Poppycock.” Edith stood, hands on her generous hips, blocking the door. “If you wanted this to be private, you wouldn’t have brought those books here.“

The ER doors swung shut with a loud bang. And just like that, I was alone. I walked to the nearest plastic chair and collapsed into it. My hands were still shaking. My breathing was uneven. My dress was stained. I stared at those closed doors. How did I even get here? This morning I was just a wife. A mother. Sitting in my kitchen making breakfast. Now I was sitting in a cold hospital hallway, covered in blood, waiting to find out if the man I was secretly in love with would live or die.

“Out loud. Starting from the section you stole.” Lila’s hands trembled as she took the pages. Her voice was barely above a whisper at first, but Kane’s sharp look made her speak louder. The words were explicit—far more explicit than anything she had submitted for class. In her panic and exhaustion, she had accidentally included passages from a secret erotic story she had been writing for herself… about him. “‘Professor Kane’s strong hands gripped my thighs, spreading them wide across his desk as he looked at my dripping pussy with hungry eyes…’” Her voice cracked.

These days, she scraped by with what little money she made pimping young women to men who wanted to have a good time. She was on her old couch in a dark room that had a hint of cheap food and old scent, just looking at her phone while her little one slept in the next room. Her thumb paused when a headline caught her eye. "Killian Stone’s Secret Love? Remember Killian Stone’s Passionate Kiss With The Mystery Girl? We Know She’s Some Photographer – But Still It’s Left People Wondering: Who Is She Really?" Tina snorted, rolling her eyes. “Rich people and their drama,” she muttered, but habit made her tap the article anyway.