Dystopian Erotica Novelas e Histórias

LUCA; I'm obsessed with my gym partner. Utterly and completely obsessed. And no, not in a platonic way. In an erotic, filthy and sinful way. His name is Ethan. Yes, I'm fucking straight. The mere idea of another man touching me in that manner, was repulsive to say the least. Should be a disgusting.... demonic act. I detested the thought of it...but it was such a shame that I had no control of my body's reaction. Of my thoughts. They were filthy and borderline pornographic on the things I imagined he'd do to me, or the things I'd would love to explore with him.

Ero **** on the first date she confided in me i have a chromosomal disorder, disorder, disorder i need love and pain strangely mixed together my elixirs i suffer reality distoooorrtions a ghastly Vatican of ****** compulsions my soul is black matter my **** a seething cauldron of despicable desire my *** cries for homicidal cruelty mold me into a ******* fold me like a two dollar beach chair the wrong way tear me to bits unwind my intestine eat me like a blood ******* ghoul make me squirm like an anime victim i thought oh finally a soul mate with soul strange as a Dionysian mad hatter on hallucinogenics hot girl creeping grimacing at me meandering conjurations by ****** contortions stunning

“Treat me like just a hole, Master…” The pleasure built fast and brutal. My hips rocked back against my own hand as I chased release. “I’m your filthy little maid… use me…” I came hard, thighs shaking, a broken moan escaping my lips as my pussy clenched around my fingers. The orgasm was so intense my vision blurred for a moment. I collapsed onto the bed, panting, trying to catch my breath. A sleepy satisfaction washed over me. But as I finally sat up and started cleaning the small mess I’d made, I heard it.

The position left me completely exposed, vulnerable, dripping, and trembling. He was sitting relaxed against the back of the tub, legs spread, that powerful, broad-shouldered body dominating the space. I felt his rough, calloused hand slide up the back of my thigh, the friction sending sparks through me. His skin was coarse from years in prison, nothing like Felix’s smooth touch. It scraped deliciously against my soft flesh. “Fuck, look at you,” He muttered, voice thick with lust. “Soaking wet already and I haven’t even touched you properly. Does my brother ever get you this dripping? Does Felix make your cunt throb like a desperate little slut?”

My legs felt shaky as I descended the stairs, the cool wood against my bare feet doing nothing to calm the fire still burning between my thighs. The dream clung to me like a second skin, Alex’s thick cock stretching me open, his dirty growls in my ear, the way I’d moaned like a slut while he fucked me senseless in my own bed. My soaked panties rubbed against my swollen clit with every step, sending little sparks up my spine. I tugged the hem of my tiny sleep shorts down, but they barely covered anything. My thin tank top clung to my breasts, nipples still hard and obvious. Part of me hoped he’d notice. The other part was terrified he would.

“On your knees where you belong. All that quiet attitude and you’re just another slut for my cock.” His words should have angered me. Instead they sent heat pooling low in my belly. I moaned around him, and Damien cursed, his grip tightening. “Keep making those sounds and I won’t last.” I sucked harder, swirling my tongue, letting him use my mouth. The basement filled with wet sounds and his heavy breathing. My own erection strained painfully against my jeans, humiliating and undeniable. Damien’s thrusts grew erratic. “Look at me,” he ordered. I lifted my eyes. Our gazes locked, and something raw passed between us. Hate. Need. Years of tension exploding in this one forbidden moment.

ARC 10: MOONFLOWER ON THE ALTAR WARNING: This arc contains extremely explicit sexual content, omegaverse dynamics with alpha/omega knotting and breeding, public gangbang, intense dubcon/noncon elements, and pack breeding/claiming themes. Intended for mature audiences only (18+). Proceed only if you consent to dark, unrestrained erotic fiction ---- My name is Vespera Eric, and I have spent every one of my twenty-one years knowing exactly how this night would end.

I went to my room, another decorated horror and on the bed lay some nightwear , a pair red lingeries, some cuffs, feathers, blind folds and so many nasty things. I just looked at them and scoffed, but I as I said earlier nothing would go to waste. I put on the lingerie and poured myself some more wine and put on some sensual music. Since Nathan wouldn’t touch me, I touched myself most of the time and with the toys around I might just do it anyways.

It’s like a stare competition across the dinner table, and somehow Mia never seems to notice. Everyone was back home, and the throbbing began. Chloe can’t shake her spicy morning with Damien from her mind. Every replay came with a sharp electric surge throughout her body, and every surge caused a drip from her throbbing folds into her panties. Damien has noticed a few unusual movements from Chloe, and it’s not like Chloe has been his best fuck, but something is exciting about the forbidden nature of their relationship.

The private dungeon room smelled of polished leather, faint incense, and raw anticipation. Soft red lighting bathed the space in warmth, highlighting the St. Andrew’s cross, the padded bench, and the heavy oak table where various implements waited. At 26, Lena had dreamed of this moment for months. Tonight, in this soundproofed sanctuary, she would finally be collared by Marcus, her dominant, her lover, the man who had slowly peeled back every layer of her control until she craved nothing more than to surrender it completely.