Erotic Fiction Short Story Novels & Stories

Way too f**king long. Eric pushed his curtain back, revealing his long cock. She watched him stroke himself for several minutes, his fingers wrapped around his flesh, drawing up and down its length with gentle, fast strokes. She strained her ears to hear the sounds of flesh on flesh and the excited hitch in his breath. She had the sudden urge to want to come with him. She opened her legs again and stroked her clit with the same rhythm he used. She decided watching the look on his face was almost as sexy as watching his hand slide over his cock, almost as sexy as thinking about it between her lips. She sucked on the fingers of her free hand, wanting him in her mouth, wondering what his cum wo

A man was stroking eagerly in and out of me. The anonymity was exhilarating. I’d never experienced anything like it before. My female lover humped my mouth, and I coaxed and prodded her clitoris Looking up, I watched with delight while she squeezed her own tits and her head whipped back and forth. The fucker between my legs was pounding me now, and a buzzing climax swept over me just as he—whoever he was—shot his cream into me. The woman came on my face seconds later, then unsaddled herself.

I let out a loud, choked-off cry. He started a brutal, fast pace. The desk was hitting the wall—thud, thud, thud. Every time he slammed into me, I felt a wave of shared heat explode in my body. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down so I could bite his shoulder. I wanted to mark him. I wanted everyone to know he belonged to me. The erotica of the moment was overwhelming. We were two people who should not be together, doing things that were forbidden. The risk of being caught made it even hotter. I could feel him clenching, his muscles getting hard as he pushed deeper and faster.

“This isn’t over, Em. Tomorrow night… or the night after… I’m sneaking into that bedroom and giving you exactly what that dream promised. My cock. Deep. Hard. Until you’re biting the pillow to stay quiet while I breed this needy little pussy.” He pressed one last filthy kiss to my lips, then disappeared upstairs, leaving me on the counter—panties ruined, legs shaky, and already aching for more. I touched my swollen lips, heart racing. Surviving the rest of this summer was going to be impossible. And I couldn’t wait.

She raised her heart-shaped ass up to meet his frenzied thrusts and tried to keep her shrill screams of pleasure somewhat muted in the early morning silence. Marcy recovered quickly and watched the tableau with rising passion. Her own anus was quivering and remained still gaped after her own recent anal impalement but she was caught up in being witness to the mulatto girl's anal penetration only inches from her face. The kinky businesswoman pushed her beautiful face into the point of coupling and kissed and licked both the vampire chief and the trembling mulatto girl with her fevered lips and greedy tongue. Lafitte chuckled and shoved all four of his fingers into the human's gaped anus. It w

My heart hammered against my ribs. The order was degrading, obscene. And it set a fire in my belly. I leaned forward, closing the distance. The first touch of my tongue to the cool, wet wood was salt and bitterness and him. I moaned, the sound involuntary, vibrating against the desk. I licked a slow, deliberate stripe through the spill, gathering it into my mouth. The act was so submissive, so filthy, that it coiled heat low in my core. I could feel Jonathan’s seed trickling from inside me, a parallel intimacy.

I stroked him eagerly, loving the way he groaned and thrust into my fist. “Such a good little whore,” he praised, voice strained. “Look at you, naked on your professor’s desk and jerking my cock like you were made for it.” He kissed me again while I stroked him faster. His three fingers returned to my pussy, stretching me open while his thumb tormented my clit. We moved together—filthy, desperate, perfect. I released again on his fingers, moaning into his mouth as he spilled over my hand and stomach in hot, thick ropes.

There was an odd swear word in it but it seemed right for the context'. 'Did it turn you on?' I asked simply. Julia now flushed bright red and did not answer. 'Your face tells me that it did. I'm glad, which is what it's supposed to do. Did it offend you?' 'No. How could a lovely story like that offend me?' she asked in return. 'What better definition of erotic writing do you want. Something that is not offensive but is a turn on both mentally and physically' 'Do you think that that story is true?'