Dirty Wattpad Stories Novels & Stories

she said and I nodded "boudi you know I was reading a story on wattpad the Story's name is crazily in love with you and the writer is Aadhya Sengupta." she said "Did it's my Story? I'm the writer of it.. That's the story of my past.." I said and she is shocked "boudi you're the writer? Boudi you don't know dada is your fan.. He only read your stories once I was talking about it and he started reading it.. He was reading all of your stories." she said

She was stunned. "Go on. Eat it," I said. She was obviously confused. I took her hand and gave her the sandwich. "Eat." "O-okay. Thank you," she whispered. On our way to school, Maura and I chatted as she finished my masterpiece of a sandwich. She seems really nice. Her personality, her movements, even the way she talks are all so finesse and lady-like. She’s annoyingly perfect. We are totally worlds apart; however, there was something unexpected that connected us: wattpad. We were talking about hobbies and I found out she loves reading stories from wattpad. Not only that, she's a fan of the story I was writing! What a coincidence. It was all that we talked about until we reached school. Who

HERE LIE STORIES NEVER FINISHED. Pages rustled underfoot with every small shift, like whispers too quiet to make out. I bent and picked up another sheet that had landed near my boot. It was a fragment of something I’d only ever talked about at three a.m., half‑drunk, in DMs with other writers. A line about a girl in a city made of bones, her hands stained with ink she couldn’t wash off. The sentence broke off right where my memory of it did. “This place sucks,” Jax said, voice hushed. “In case anyone was wondering. Zero stars. Send it back to the drafting table.”

Bishop mumbled softly. I didn't flinch, I only stared at the bundle on my lap, admiring the cleanliness of the new currency. This is exactly what I'm talking about. I want to start making cool cash like these, throwing bundles wherever I go, but I can only achieve that through one-way—and that's to work at Wet Nights. I knew one-day I was going to be a billionaire and here comes the opportunity. At this point, I won't disagree with anyone who calls me an obsessed or desperate freak, I really don't care.

Tara should’ve gone home an hour ago. The cleaning staff had already left. The whole floor was dark, except for the soft glow of her desk lamp. She claimed she was working on the Anderson pitch deck. But the tabs open on her laptop said otherwise. One showed a live chat with her best friend, daring her to finally act out the fantasy they’d joked about for years. Another had an online store cart open vibrators, silk cuffs, a discreet clit sucker toy. And the third?

She ground against me, smearing her juices all over my nose and mouth while I sucked and licked desperately. She came the first time with a low moan, flooding my tongue. I kept licking through it, cleaning her, until she pushed me back slightly only to pull me in again for round two. My own cunt dripped onto the carpet beneath me and the thick plug stretched my ass the entire time. When she finally finished, Ciara wiped her wet cunt on my cheek and stood up. "Clean yourself up and get back to work, whore. And keep that plug in all day."

“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

'Poor. 'Twat.' 'She licked the boots of the authorities for the scholarship.' 'Whore, what's your price?' 'S.L.U.T.' 'Filthy.' Tears pricked the back of her eyes, and she didn't have the strength to look at the other students. Despite tears blurring her vision and her heart shattering apart, she retrieved her phone and clicked a picture. At the same time, the professor stepped in. Everyone took their seats while she stood there immobile.

It’s already planning all the ways I’m going to stretch that pussy out soon. By the end of the day she’s “accidentally” brushed her ass against me twice more. Told me more fake sad stories about her ex. But I can tell there’s something she’s hiding behind those tears. Something dirty. And I want to fuck it out of her.

Chloe's POV I thought I was just having a wet dream. I was floating in the heavy, warm darkness after spending half the night writing one of my erotica books. My body was stretched out on tangled sheets and I was wearing nothing but an old cotton T-shirt that had ridden up to my ribs. I thought the book I was writing was affecting my dream because someone was sucking my pussy in the dream. I felt a tongue. Slow and deliberate. It slid from the bottom of my slit up to my clit in one long, dirty lick.