Drunk Desires Novels & Stories

“To remember what it’s like when someone sees all of you and still wants more.” His voice was like smoke. thick, curling through my thoughts, making it impossible to think straight. My fingers hovered over the pillow, the edge of the bed, the phone. “You want me to…” My voice trailed off, heavy with implication. He nodded, slow and reverent. “Yeah. I want you to touch yourself for me. Let me watch you come undone. I have missed seeing you cum so hard for me.” I squeezed my eyes shut. This was madness. Reckless. The kind of moment that could ruin everything if even a breath of it leaked into the real world.

His obsession had him noticing every discomfort in her actions, rendering him totally useless in other aspects of his life. In the dimly lit meeting room, Drystan sat on a chair at the head of the table of 4 his gaze rooted to the forehead of a frantic member, while the words of the speaker fell on deaf ears—Drystan’s mind were consumed by the thoughts of Rosealba and the memories they had created on that day. For days the image of her trembling cumming body featured itself in his every thought, tormenting him to do more than just spank, kiss, and touch her. The familiar feeling of thirst nudged at his already bulging cock, but he fought back by adjusting his body to settle into the chair. T

They are not too obvious but I can read red and green. I scroll through the channels, trying to find anything interesting to watch. But my mind is occupied. Occupied by thoughts of Lance and Cliff. I am trying to figure out what is wrong that they haven't touched me. Truth is,I miss their touch. I want them to treat me like a slut,their slut. Over the days they have distanced themselves from me, one thing became very clear; I desire them. I desire the men that own me. I want them to drag me to their bed and fuck my brains out. I want to be bend down by the shower and fucked senseless. I want to cum so many times that I lose count.

“I give zero fucks about what people think is appropriate, and you know that.” Hm. I stare at my empty glass. “That's your fourth glass tonight,” Sergei notes, “We should dance.” I say to him, If I can get my first dance with him, then I could choose any random man as my second dance. Specifically, my sister's husband.

I am Lily, a writer of the darkest, most forbidden desires. By day—or rather, in the quiet hours when the world fades—I craft tales that twist pleasure with primal fear, where innocence shatters under the weight of monstrous hunger. My fingers have never known a lover’s touch. I remain untouched, a virgin whose body stays sealed away while my mind roams the shadows of lust. Every story I pen is an escape, a secret indulgence. The words I spill onto the page are my only release.

Even though a part of me knew to feel shame, the other part, the one that had snuck glances at him and masturbated to the thought of him fucking me raw, that part was enjoying every humiliating moment. It became difficult to focus on any more chores and the difficulty became impossible when I turned to see Luther spread out on the bed, his dick out, jerking off to the sight of my body. "Mr. Aster!" "Fuck, I need you to suck my cock, darling." His voice sounded smoky and dry like he was racing to the edge. The sight made my cunt drip even more, demanding attention. Or more specifically, demanding the massive cock in front of me to fuck my cunt.

Even as he dragged his raspy tongue up and down my prickled skin, I did everything I could to hold on. "Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh." I heard the sounds pushing up from my tight throat, could barely think about anything but the hard fucking. The man had unchained me, opening up Pandora's Box with his demanding needs, his dark desires. I no longer cared whether this was a sin of God or a match made in heaven. I simply needed more. Craved more. Hungered for everything the man could give me.

Julian groaned into the kiss, tangling his fingers in Adrian’s dark hair, arching his chest into Adrian’s broad front. Adrian’s hands slid down Julian’s bare back, his large fingers digging into the flesh of his buttocks, holding him tight against the heavy, rigid line of his erection through his trousers. The friction was heady, intoxicating. Julian felt a wave of intense heat pool between his legs, his body responding instantly to the raw masculinity radiating from Adrian. Adrian pulled back a fraction of an inch, both of them breathing heavily, their lips slick and swollen. "Dax Vance doesn't beg," Adrian growled softly, his voice a dark, rough rasp against Julian’s jaw line as he nipped

My core throbbed, making me jerk on his hold when I felt a liquid seep out of me, and the air began to smell of my juice. "Brad," I whistled out, drunk in love, my head was spinning; the things he was doing to me were making me lose my senses. He continued kissing me while massaging my buttocks; he peeled away briefly, and I caught a glimpse of him in the shadows as he ripped off his shirt. I know what he wanted to do, and I, too, want this; I have been waiting for this day for so long. With a blooming heart, I started undressing, not minding the fact that we were in a fucking haunted house; my desires blind my sense of morals. I heard any man who deflowered you can never be forgotten, that

I place my hand on his cheek. He’s afraid of having me run away because of his tastes in sex. Still, I’ve fantasized about being tied down, spanked, punished, and mixing pain with pleasure. Nothing about me screams light. Darkness is what I know. Dark desires are what I crave. I don’t know much about my parent's sex life. Still, what I’ve accidentally stumbled upon, well, let's just say dark desires, seems to run in the family.