Erotic Beatuies Novels & Stories

I grab her. My lips melt into hers, her skin meeting mine erotically. Her body is hot everywhere I touch her. I take her flimsy skirt off first, my fingers hooking on the hook for second, hesitant, before I rip it open. The skirt tears, revealing her pretty light pink pussy. Have I mentioned how soft her skin is? “Commando?” I say softly, smiling into her eyes, and she doesn't bother with a reply. She's forceful, movements impatient. Her hand pulls my head between her legs and I'm enclosed in their warmth. The heady, sweet scent of her pussy makes me drowsy, drunk.

"Alpha Erica, choose a mate soon. The Pack needs pups, without them, the bloodline weakens." I nodded, throat tight. He's right. At 28, I'm in my prime. Full tits, wide hips. I've tried betas. Fucked them good in the woods. They all had good cocks but there was just… no spark. And now, my heat's period is approaching. I have to decide fast or the pack suffers.

"When I was browsing a bookshop recently, I came across this. It was being sold openly. The illustrations inside are deeply improper, and the woman depicted in them is my cousin." It was an erotic picture book. The woman's face was never shown, yet her poses were overtly seductive, and a rose-shaped birthmark was on her waist. Eleanor frowned. "What is this? How do you know the woman in these pictures is Charlotte?" Yvonne's voice rang out clearly across the hall. "Because my cousin has the exact same rose birthmark on her waist." The room erupted. Every pair of eyes turned toward me, and the looks on their faces said everything. One moment away from becoming Crown Princess, and now this. Ho

I rasped, my face burying into the crook of her neck as I started a fast, relentless rhythm. I didn't hold back. The fury about Beatrice, the frustration at my own lack of control, the possessive urge to mark her so deeply she would never think about leaving this penthouse—it all poured into the way I moved my hips. The loud, wet slapping sound of our skin hitting together filled the quiet bedroom, a raw, vulgar noise that echoed off the glass windows. I reached down, grabbing her ass cheeks, lifting her higher off the mattress to deepen the angle with every single plunge.

[Valerie] I was stunned by the mighty being who towered above me; her hair white as snow, billowing out behind her in the wind as she stretched out pale arms and the werewolves around us fell in submission. Her eyebrows matched her hair, and her eyes remained a faded shade of the red they were before she transformed. She was otherworldly - taller than most humans, her skin almost as white as her hair, but still, she was mesmerizing in all her beauty. She seemed delicate, as if her bones may break at the slightest touch, but when she spoke, through blood-red lips, she sounded as fierce as her werewolf looked.

An unforgettable sex was always done with those who did not care about the dirt of sex until exhaustion, with the excessive heat and disheveled hair, and not even with spanking in the ass and hair pulls. Women who surrendered easily to that were the best in the world. And I loved the bbws. Because they used to like something stronger during the H hour. Not to mention everything there was to play during the act. I had an intimate speech that chubby women were like pots of honey, where you could smear and delight for long hours, without ever getting sick. And it was my favorite type, besides the type that my radar attracted the most. Throughout my life, I've never been with a thin and model gi

I sincerely said and they all smiled at me, obviously overwhelmed with what I said. "We failed once. And that'll never happen again, Maze. Let's take that old hog down." Finally, First said the right words. And I also smiled at them before nodding lightly. "May I interrupt this dramatic conversation?" Suddenly, a very fair lady stood before us and I looked at her. Her accent says that she's a mixed blood. She even looked foreign because of her sunglasses. And she's beautiful. "Aow, Becka." Heine called her name and she smiled at him.

Anyone in the city knows what went douleur est érotique. He sat down, the beer by his right and the masked girl dancing in front of him. She swayed from left to right, twisting almost like a snake. She bends, brushing her fingers against his bulge. Fuck. His nether rose to the call. He was not getting it out. The girl was giving the best, but not enough to override the demons. “What do think she would look like dead” one said. She continued to move, this time falling on his thighs. She ground her way, roughing his trousers but it was only making the whispers loud.

The moment had come, and the MC announced the arrival of the Enchantress on the stage. The uproar of the crowd suddenly hailed in the room. She was like a goddess of seduction being worshiped by men. Eric looked at the stage with his target performing sexy dances. His eyes were entertained by how gracefully moved her hips while she was just wearing a strapless white fur bra paired with a white fur panty with white knee-high boots. Her glassy white skin illuminated with the light shimmering like she was an expensive dancing human glass. Absentmindedly, Eric put his index finger on his lower lip.

The raw power she exuded, coupled with her unwavering determination, was a potent aphrodisiac that stirred my senses. As I walked back to the pack, my thoughts swirled with a heady mix of admiration and longing. My body responded to the memory of Beatrice's skill, and an undeniable hardness threatened to betray my desires. I discreetly adjusted himself, hoping to quell the rising tension that pulsed through me.