Novel & Cerita Eroitic Stories

“Porsche naman. Hindi na mabiro. Balik na nga lang ako sa pagiging Pambansang Bestfriend ulit. Pa-kiss nga ako.” Life is hard and scary so you need someone by your side, whether that someone is your friend, family, partner or all of them. So is love, kaya ang love ay hindi puwede sa mga taong duwag dahil ang takot ay ginagawa nilang excuse pero ang totoo ay tamad silang mag-effort mag-take ng risk, at ipakita ang sincerity nila para sa kanilang minamahal. -OH MY END!- Bonus: Tips Para Maka-Move On sa Kabiguan Ayon sa “Love is a Horror Story”

Seliet nodded and leaving the room closed the doors behind her. I tried to relax, but to my head began to arrive images of what happened the night before, that girl had something that attracted me and more than normal, throughout the night I was dreaming of those unusual eyes, thinking about it, I once read a book of the legend of the chimera wolves which used to have similar eyes, but it was impossible that they still existed.

My voice was shaky as I spoke. I saw her smiling before she finally spoke, I black eyes were shining with something I couldn't quite name. No… the opposite of what I was wanting to hear from her… your writing was loving and powerful. I love your story because I love erotic stories myself and I'd like to talk more about it with you. “So are you free this weekend Come to my place Sunday at eight.” I felt my heartbeat increase is it the test that I don't want her to give me that she wants to give me in her house? Or is it something else? I asked myself.

Hi, I will not say much. This is an erotic story that contains a mom/aunt/son. As you know, I write about Aunt/Mom’s stories. Please support me by reading my other stories, too. Also, you can support me on my P*****n: p*****n.com/laxu00 Story starts

“My after-class project. My desperate little slut who traded her dignity for a letter on a page.” His words were filth, and they poured over her like hot oil, searing her shame and transforming it into fuel. Her climax built with terrifying speed, coiling from the very brutality of his fucking. She was sobbing, pleading, begging for it, for him, for the oblivion he offered. “Please…” “Come for me, Elara,” he commanded, his own control fraying, his thrusts becoming wild, uncoordinated. “Come on your professor’s desk. Show me you accept your terms.”

But if it's me, I can't forgive him. Erigor laughed. "You took that seriously. It's just a story and it's not true. Listeners want a story with a happy ending. But I can say that what the woman in the story did was not stupid. It was true love." He said to me that he seemed to be praising me. Yes, because people before are naive and stupid. I wanted to say that but I didn't voice it. He might wonder why I am so affected by the story when it is not true.

The slap I wanted to give him this time around didn't escape him; it landed right on his face, perfectly. I stared at the artifact. It was a sculpture of a fragile lady in a worldly bent position, like when your partner is about to serve you from the back. The sculpture's legs were straight; the lady’s back arched in a manner that spelled out a lot: sexual conceit and exploring the satisfaction that comes with being intimate with someone you love. Her hands were spread wide above her head, while her mouth was open in sexual satisfaction. I rolled my eyes at the sculpture before I left the place. And do you know the worst part of all? He named the damn sculpture after me.

Chapter 1: Caught in the Act I straddled on Professor Blake’s lap in his office, my short plaid skirt shoved up around my waist, my soaked black panties hanging off one ankle like a dirty little trophy. His thick cock was buried deep inside my dripping pussy, stretching me open as I rocked my hips in slow, lazy circles, taking every inch of him with each roll. I’d never been one for hitting the books hard. Studying felt like torture, so I’d found a much more appealing way to keep my grades up, and it was simple, riding my professor raw for hours. And it happened to work every single time.

Her hips rocked shamelessly against his hand, chasing the building pressure. “You’re gonna cum on my fingers first,” he ordered. “Then I’m going to bend you over and wreck you.” Lia shattered. Her first orgasm with someone else ripped through her like lightning. She clamped down on his fingers, gushing around them as she moaned his name loud enough that anyone passing by might hear. Ethan didn’t give her time to recover. He spun her around, pressing her front against the cold tiled wall. He yanked her skirt up to her waist and ripped her panties down her legs. They caught on one ankle as he kicked her feet apart.

"The stories here... they're hostile." From the shifting runes, figures began to emerge. They were not quite solid, woven from narrative and malice—a knight with a weeping wound that told a tale of betrayal, a lover whose touch promised eternal sorrow, a child whose laughter unraveled hope. They were Eaters of Meaning, drawn to the potent story of our paradox. They surged forward. Kairi met them with a wall of solidified logic, but their nature was to corrupt it. The wall began to weep, the story of its own failure written across its surface.