Dirty Taboo Stories Novels & Stories

Book 1: Daddy’s Bestfriend. Mark Reynolds has wanted Lena for years. Her father’s best friend, freshly divorced and now living in their house, he’s impossible to ignore. Every glance sparks desire she shouldn’t feel. Her best friend envies her. His ex-wife plots, and every risk is hotter than the last—can Lena survive the fire she can’t resist? LENA POV “Fuuuck—ohhh!” I moaned, my back arched against the sheets, fingers slippery as they circled my clit, the vibrator thrumming between my thighs. My free hand pinched a nipple through my thin tank, my breath coming in ragged gasps, the whole bed shaking with my movements.

Something she’d long since come to terms with. The only silver lining in her otherwise mundane life was her books. Specifically, dark romance books. It all started with her accidentally coming across one on a popular book site. The book had garnered over one million readers and she decided to give it a try. Since then, she’d been thrust into the world of morally grey characters with looks that could kill and a thing for cuffing you before giving you the best sex of your life. Did anybody know of this hobby of hers? No. She’d been sure to keep her dark romance collection away from her parents. Of course, her mother had come across it one time but she’d quickly made up and explanation and prie

The casual touches, the long stares when he came home sweaty from work I thought I’d hidden them better. “What were you watching exactly?” he pressed. “Tell me.” I swallowed hard. “Gay p**n. Older guy… taking control. Big cock. Making the younger one submit.” Max’s eyes darkened. I glanced down involuntarily and saw the thick outline of his cock straining against his jeans. He was hard. My own dick throbbed in response, pressing uncomfortably against my shorts. “Stand up,” he ordered. “Drop the shorts. Show me how you were touching yourself last night.”

She looked comfortable, like she owned the place. “Getting late, Matt,” she said softly. “You look tense. Why don’t you tell me a story? Or better yet, let me tell you one.” She started talking in that low, husky voice. Stories about late-night deals, fast cars, and men who thought they could control her. Every one had a dirty edge. How she once made a rival boss beg on his knees. How power felt better when it came with pleasure. Matt listened, pretending it was just work, but his dick stayed rock hard the whole time.

On a side table, rows of red candles sat beside bottles of oil and lube. "What the hell?" Emma gasped. She never imagined Romero would be such a freak. She imagined him bringing sexy girls into this secret playground. Yes, he was rich enough to get girls who shared similar sexual kinks. She thought about how he would make their bodies coil with a mix of pleasure and pain... Images of Romero doing freaky things with baddies filled Emma's mind. A rush of heat flooded her body. Her nipples stiffened against her lace bra. It rubbed against the fabric. A warm, throbbing sensation bloomed between her thighs. Her pussy grew slick. The sudden wetness made her press her legs together.

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction intended for adult audiences. It explores themes of religious taboo, power dynamics, and forbidden romance. It is not intended to reflect real-world religious practices or figures. All characters involved in romantic or sexual situations are consenting adults. ✴️✴️ The wooden pew was digging into Sienna's back. Saint Jude's smelled like wax and cold stone and something old she couldn't name. She hated this place. She hated the silence that wasn't actually silence, just fifty people breathing and pretending to be holy.

"That's a good thing, right? Intense is sexy." "Tash, something happened," I said, my voice barely a whisper. And then, the whole story came pouring out of me. The locked drawer, the journal, getting caught, the blackmail, the deal. I left out no detail. I told her everything—my fear, my shame, and my sick, twisted arousal. When I was finished, the room was silent. Tasha just stared at me, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes wide with shock. "Holy shit," she finally breathed out. "Holy. Fucking. Shit, Elara."

And the next hour was filled with a deep conversation. Tom admitted he didn’t know if he was bisexual or not. He’d never acted on anything like this before, but he’d had fantasies of watching Janice get fucked by other men. He’d buried them deep because he was terffied she’d think he was weak or sick…or even worse…a pervert. Remembering all the nasty smut she reads, Janice could only smile internally, telling him to never feel ashamed of his sexual fantasies or kink. It was normal and he could have trusted her over these years so they could talk about it.

We would d******d pornographic videos and watch them together,then talk dirty to each other and masturbate ourselves. It was dirty. Our dirty little secret. “C’mon man, we are grown past that life.” He gave me a are you serious look. “Yes I am serious. We are now grown men with duties and responsibilities. We should not masturbate with each other again.” Kenneth burst into laughter, hitting the table and jerking like a toddler. “I am being ser-“ Before I completed my sentence, he stood up and locked the door, changing the light to a red light, and using the microphone remote to play water dripping sounds.

And it didn’t help that my pussy was sore and I body was demanding sleep. Lisa took a step closer, her eyes boring into mine. “I know you heard me, Hannah. And I know you know what I’m saying is true. You’re having sex with the priest. That’s crazy.” She said ‘crazy’ like it was a compliment. “I’m not having sex with Father Gabriel, Hannah. That’s ridiculous.”