Dog Licking Clit

“Shh, little girl,” he growled, teeth catching my bottom lip. I fought the moan, but he circled my clit, my hips jerked helplessly against his hand. Then he pushed my panties aside and sank two thick fingers inside me. I soaked his palm, knees buckling as tremors wracked me. “That’s it, cum for me,” he whispered against my ear. I did. Waves crashed through me while he held me up, stroking gently, murmuring filthy praise that made it sweeter, deeper, more shattering than anything I’d ever felt with a woman. I’m a lesbian. I’ve always known it, claimed it shamelessly. I’ve mapped women’s bodies with my mouth, hands, loving every touch and gasp. My best friend’s tongue between my legs has made me come countless times. The only man I tried, my ex, was awkward, unsatisfying. I swore off them forever. I love women. I love my best friend. So why does this man, her father, the one I should never want make me wetter with one stroke than she ever has? Why am I aching for his cock, pushed inside me, thrusting relentlessly, filling me, ruining me in ways no woman could? Why does bending over his desk for him feel like the right thing to do? One forbidden touch. One devastating truth: I might never want another woman again. When I rejected the vice chancellor's advances, my best friend's obsessive aunt, she threatened expulsion. My friend took me to her father, the college owner. One look at his body and I was lost. That night in their home, hiding in the kitchen while watching him cook, I touched myself, craving what is forbidden. Will my best friend discover my sudden addiction to her father? Will her aunt ever stop wanting me?

Do I need to cut off someone’s limbs, little flame?” he growled into my ear. I tilted my head instinctively “He’s nothing you need to worry about,” I whispered. “I’m not worried, baby. I’m annoyed.” His growled. But I barely processed his words. “You called me baby,” I said, stunned. “And?” “I didn’t think wolves used such... terms of endearment.” He chuckled darkly. “We use whatever we want, ‘baby.’ Those words aren’t reserved for other species.” He kissed the side of my neck, slow and possessive. My lips parted in shock and hunger. Hunger for him. For more of his words that seemed to touch not just my heart, but the deepest, most vulnerable parts of me. “You’re in an awfully good mood,” I whispered, biting my lip to stop a moan. “I deserve it. I’ve been in a terrible mood since I left you in that hallway three nights ago. I can’t wait to be done with this damn party so I can kiss you properly.” His voice was thick with want. I felt weightless and boneless. Every nerve in my body tuned to him. He was too much. “Are you finally free?” I asked, my voice shaky from how turned on I was. “I’m not, little flame,” he said, biting my ear and licking the same spot after. “But for tonight? You have me all to yourself.” “Sounds exciting,” I breathed. “It is. Are you wet yet?” he whispered, voice like molten sin. “I am. Very.” “Good,” he murmured. “Stay like that all night. It will get worse but you’ll think of me while we mingle. And then, when this party is over, when you can’t take the ache anymore, I’ll let you come.”

Autumn Dawson had only ever loved one man, Ivan Ashton, her husband. For twelve years, she devoted her life to him, only to have her heart shattered when he married her sister on their 11th anniversary. Shortly after, she met a mysterious death and was reincarnated three years before her demise. This time, she vowed things would be different. On their ninth anniversary, when Ivan brazenly introduced his mistress for the first time, Autumn refused to remain silent. No longer the mute dog wagging her tail at her husband's call, she stood up, her eyes blazing with fury. "I want a divorce," she declared, her voice resonating with newfound strength. The room fell silent, the shock evident on both Ivan's and her sister's faces. For the first time, Autumn wasn't backing down. She had had enough, and she was determined to seek revenge on every single person who had wronged her in her past life. But as she prepared to walk away, Ivan grabbed her arm, his eyes filled with desperation. "I want a second chance," he pleaded. Autumn's eyes narrowed, her resolve hardening. "Over my dead body," she spat, yanking her arm free. This time, Autumn Dawson wasn't just fighting for herself. She was ready to take down anyone who dared to stand in her way.

I yelped, squirming, but I quickly stopped myself because I knew that, judging by the position he had me in, one wrong move and I'd fall. And sure as hell, London wasn't going to catch me. The glint in his eyes said so. He had me trapped, subjected to taking whatever he was ready to dish without writhing. His head peeked up at me from in-between my legs, and he squinted before hoarsely saying, "Oh, and one more thing... not a single sound from you, and don't touch me. Don't say I didn't warn you." What? He wasn't expecting me to just shut my eyes and keep it in. Hell, soft were already leaving my lips when he was me like a deprived lunatic a few minutes ago, and now I was... "What?" I asked in blurry understanding. "Meaning, you're not allowed to make any sound, and you're not allowed to touch me, and that includes tugging on my hair; you'd give me a headache." He huskily said this before licking my inner thighs again, inching closer to my wetness. "Or else?" I dared to ask. He gave me a devilish smile before chuckling,"You're free to find out, no?" *************** London was a devoted Gamma in his former life but was reborn as the Alpha and Lycan King and harbors a deep hatred for women and the concept of a mate bond. Although he couldn't call his past life,he gets a second chance in his new life with a woman who had lost everything precious to her in one night, but he rejected her, and now his rejection might cause him to lose everything he had ever wanted, especially since his mate was hiding an important secret, or maybe he wouldn't since he doesn't give a damn.

I'm the Alpha King's daughter. When I was 16, my father chose four werewolves as my future mate candidates. They are from the affiliate packs and have Alpha blood running through them. When Dad was gravely injured, he asked me who among them I wanted to be my mate. After giving it much thought, I chose Leo Martinez, the werewolf with whom I was the closest, to be my lifelong mate. However, three months into our bonding, strange wounds would emerge on my body. On the other hand, my cousin, Sylvia Campbell, who sought shelter at my house, became prettier. Thereafter, I encountered various hurdles. I even failed my pack trial, for which I prepared with so much effort. But Sylvia, with skills below par, managed to join the elite Silvermoon Strike Force alongside Leo. I stayed back in the Dark Hunters pack, licking my wound. Half a year later, I encountered an ambush while on a hunt and died on the spot. After I died, my soul refused to disperse. I saw Sylvia and Leo pull out a Moon Goddess statue wrapped with thorny vines from under my bed. They laughed wickedly at my dead body. "Sylvia, thanks to your trick, we managed to cancel the Moon's blessing with the witch's curse and switched your and Elena's fates. Now, no one stands in our way. The pack is in our hands." Never would I have thought my gentle, obedient cousin and my mate whom I grew up with, would team up to harm me. When I reopen my eyes, I've returned to the day Dad asks me to choose my mate. I dig out the statue beneath my bed and thrust it into the beast enclosure. Since Sylvia loves controlling others' fate, she shall face the consequences for doing so.

He dipped his head back between my thighs and placed his hand under my a*s, pulling my waist towards him. He began licking around the edges of my p**sy, closing in slowly to the center. He traced me with the very tip of his tongue until he could taste my nectar. He licked the entrance of the v*****l hole, sucking my juice like it was liquid sin, like he wanted to drown himself in it. Then he dragged his tongue back to my c**t stroking it. I didn’t move, I kept still, as if I did he might stop and I was scared of that. My chest just heaved, letting out the faintest of breaths. Another stroke of his tongue on my sweet spot, and a very quiet m**n bubbled out of my throat. He moved his tongue again, flicking with more pressure and I jolted like I had been electrocuted. I pushed my hips forward and completely enveloped his head between my thighs, my knees bending until my legs were locked behind his head, burying his head deeper into my wet p***y. My body tightened, not like I was about to c*m, but like he was easing all the pressure he had built up. Are you looking for the best e****ca stories? The perfect e**tica content that would keep you on edge wanting more? Search no more, you’ve found the perfect one. Turn the pages and read, if you dare! This is a compilation of extremely erotica content ranging from forbidden s*x between step family members, student and teacher, between best friends, gays and lesbians and so much more! Note: Do not read if you’re below 18 Extremely erotica content!

WARNING: HEAVY SMUT AHEAD!!! Mature audiences only! Proceed with caution! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Please,” she whispered, desperation cracking her voice. “Please, Chase.”   “Begging already?” His voice was cruel, his fingers circling faster, pushing her to the edge. “I'm not even nearly done with you yet.”   She squeezed her eyes shut, the recruit’s muffled cries and the whip’s crack filling her ears, amplifying her need. Chase’s fingers were relentless, stroking her clit, and dipping inside just enough to tease.   “Please,” she whimpered, louder now, her hands gripping his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I won’t lie again. I’ll be good. Please, let me cum.”   He chuckled, his lips brushing her neck. “Not yet, baby. Fight it.”   Her body screamed, every nerve on fire, the recruit’s struggles mirroring her own. The girl’s master groaned, close to release, as Lila’s whip landed again and again on her ass.   Emma’s head felt like it was about to explode under the pressure, her thighs shook with the effort to conceal it, her pleas spilling out. “Please, Chase, I can’t hold it any longer… I need it."   "Don't. You. Dare. Come." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Picture this: A CEO pinning his partner's daughter over his desk, whispering rules that chain her soul while his cock claims her body. Or a werewolf's claws raking skin in the moonlit woods, rutting her senseless till she's howling his name. We mix it up... sweet, slow-burn romances that melt into tender fucks and whispered "I love yous," flipping to the dark side with BDSM bites, non-con edges that blur fear into filthy want, and horror vibes where ghosts fuck you cold then hot. Your panties? Ruined. Your cravings? Fed. And yet, you'll still be here begging for more. Dive in if you're brave enough.

The moment I was born, my mother implanted a chip in my brain and began shaping me into her idea of a perfect daughter. She blocked my sense of hunger so I would only have simple meals daily to maintain the "ideal" figure. She erased my ability to feel pain so she could inject me with endless chemicals to keep my skin smooth and flawless. She tampered with my senses, deleting every trace of negative emotion from my mind, all so I could remain eternally innocent. I couldn't tell right from wrong. I didn't know sadness or anger. I only knew how to smile. When the neighbor's dog died, I smiled and was scolded harshly for being heartless. When my classmates bullied me, I smiled and became the class freak. When my grandfather passed away, I smiled again, and my relatives cursed me for being soulless. Eventually, my father couldn't take it anymore. He left us. Mom, however, didn't seem to care. "They don't understand," she told me. "Everything I've done is for your own good. One day, you'll thank me." … On my 18th birthday, she planned a grand live broadcast, ready to show the world her perfect creation. She never knew that the day before her grand broadcast, I had already lost myself completely. By then, I was no longer human. I had become a machine.

Georgia Brooks, the notorious, troublesome tomboy is the caretaker of Clark Brown, the mysterious, cold man who is an undercover billionaire. Georgia's motive is to uncover him and just make him happy. But what when secrets are revealed and the badass tomboy is close to tears? Join them on this rocky road of adventures which includes their occasional fights and revenge, stolen kisses, trip to a circus, journey to England, landing in jail and much more! Excerpt from a chapter : His lips curled in disdain and just when he was about to unwrap the towel, I quickly turned around showing my back to him. What the fucking hell? What if I saw his thing? "Don't you care? Like honestly, couldn't you just order like your usual self to get the hell out of your bedroom or just . . . turn around for you to change? You could have at least warned me that you were freeing your willy, I would have closed my eyes!" I rambled and felt myself feeling all jittery again. He didn't reply and I could mentally picture him scoffing or rolling his pretty eyes. A part of me which never saw a grown man's buddy down there was curious as to how it looked. Was it really long and monstrous like a huge sausage they describe in erotic scenes? Was it soft like a banana or hard like a radish? Was is it like spring that when you poke it, it would go wagging like a dog's tail? A teeny little peek would do no harm . . .

At my lowest point that year, I took a job at a pet shop, where I was assigned to take care of a "gentle-tempered" silver-white Alaskan Malamute. Every time I went near him, he would lift his head and bury his nose against my chest, breathing in low, rough sounds that felt disturbingly like a grown man holding himself back. Especially when my hand brushed through his beautiful fur, his body would heat up, and his eyes would darken and burn with unmistakable possessiveness. Thinking he was sick, I rushed to find the shop owner. The owner gave me a long, meaningful glance. "He's not sick. But he only acts like this with you. "You need to bathe him, give him a full-body massage, and try giving him a little kiss. Otherwise, he might lose control." I had my doubts about the whole thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I went along with it anyway. Eventually, I told the friend who had gotten me this job everything that had been happening. After she heard me out, she went quiet for a second. Then, she looked at me strangely and said, "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not looking after a dog at all? What if he's actually a werewolf who can take human form, and he's in heat, using pheromones to mess with you because he wants to… You know, sleep with you?"