Erotic Fiction Novels & Stories

He pounded into her relentlessly, the wet slap of his hips against her ass echoing loudly. “Yes! I love it,” she sobbed. The confession spilled out of her. “I’ve wanted this for so long….wanted you to ruin me.” Ethan laughed darkly and sped up. “Then say it. Tell me what you are.” “I’m… I’m becoming your whore,” she gasped between thrusts. “Louder.” “I’m your whore!” she cried, voice breaking as another orgasm crashed through her. Her pussy spasmed violently around his cock, squirting slightly onto the floor.

The four men stood over us, stroking their cocks already getting hard again. Patricia kissed me deep, tasting all the cum still on my 👅. We swapped it back and forth, sloppy and nasty, strings of spit and semen making it slipperier. “Fuck, look at these two nasty bitches,” Derek laughed. He was older, heavier, with a thick cock that curved upward. Victor grabbed Patricia by the hair and shoved her face down next to mine. “Clean her up.”

Her skin glowed in the orange light. “Bataille,” he began, walking toward her slowly, “posits that the ultimate erotic act is one that mirrors death, a little death. A dissolution of the self through excess, through the violent breaking of boundaries.” He stopped inches from her. “Pain is one such boundary. The body’s warning system. To embrace it, to transform it into pleasure, is a profound transgression.” He reached out and took her hand, leading her not to the rug, but to his desk. He guided her to stand beside it.

She gasped, the sensation sending chills through her body. Her movement was slow at first, hips slowly sliding over his dick. Then, she picked up a rhythm, hands moving to rest at both sides of his head as she bucked her hips faster and faster. “Just like that,” Vincent’s words were breathless, a groan escaping his lips. “Such a good little slut.” She bit back another loud moan, all her focus on how good it felt to have him insider her. There was something erotic about being called a slut by him. Didn’t matter how degrading it should have felt to her.

He must be feeling the same because his hands knead harder, his kisses get more feverish, and I can feel his hardness start to poke against my ass. First Guy captures my lips in his again, threading his fingers in my hair. His kiss is heated and urgent, turning me on faster than anyone has ever done. I’m the only one naked while both are still dressed. I can feel my wetness increasing, and my body starts aching for some relief. The air gets hotter, and I can feel his cock poking my lower belly. I’m sandwiched between cocks, and the thought alone makes me almost come.

"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 say hiding the book behind me. "Okay now, I obviously have to know." He says with a smirk. "It's nothing," I say smiling. "Oh it's something. Oh my God it's Porn?" He says flat out laughing now. "No it's not, I say. It's a romance novel with occasional sex scenes." I say explaining. He reaches out and collects the book from hand. "It's say erotica right here, so it's obviously porn." He says laughing. "Okay maybe it's an erotic romance book." I say with a blush creeping up my neck.

I cried out, my fingers tangling in his dark hair. He pushed me back onto the cot, his body covering mine. The weight of him, the heat, was everything I’d dreamed of. His hands were everywhere—kneading my breasts, sliding down my ribs, over my hips. He hooked his fingers into the waist of my simple cotton underwear and tore them down my legs. The sound of the fabric ripping was the most erotic thing I’d ever heard. Then his hand was there. Between my legs. On my pussy. A big, rough-skinned palm cupping me, his middle finger sliding through the wetness I couldn’t control.

But gosh, that cock of his was fine, stretched out towards me like it couldn't wait to have me. He ran a hand over his dirty brown hair. Why was I just noticing his biceps, his broadened chest and taunt abdomen? I had been reading an erotic story the day he must have caught me touching myself. How he'd seen me, I didn't know. I'd worn a dress that very day, reading the story through my phone. When I noticed I needed a release due to the sexual tension, I'd raised my dress to my thigh... Since the lights in the train constantly blinked and there had been no one around me, I managed to take off my panties.

He rose, cock slick from my juices. "On all fours now!" I obeyed, arching back. He entered slow, savoring. "Love how you take it." We fucked missionary next, legs wrapped tight. Deep kisses, bodies slapping. "You're my dirty secret and my addiction." He came hard, grinding deep. Cum mixed with my wetness, pooling under us.