Erotic Horror Stories Novels & Stories

Disclaimer: This is an erotic story that contains explicit, spicy, and sexual content intended for mature audiences only. If you are under the age of 17 or uncomfortable with adult themes, we kindly advise you not to proceed. However, if you’re of legal age and enjoy such stories, then welcome—and enjoy the experience. Chapter 1

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

I took a step forward to them both, my heart pounding in my chest as if a race was held in there. "The bonus," Dante repeated, his voice dripping with malice which made my heart hitting so loud that can be heard, "is that Lyra will be just... unblemished." My mind reeled as his words sank in within my inner self. "Unblemished. Pure. Untouched." I said within my self with fear rising up so quickly. And then, it hit me at the G-spot. The true horror of my situation . "No," I whispered, my voice barely audible to anyone but myself and my wolf who was quite.

I scream, not minding if I would draw attention. “Ahhh,” he groans and rams into me. Deeper. Fucking hard! I feel my cunt swell with his seeds, ones I wish would germinate inside of me. Lust in love, I come. Hard. Squirting and moaning like a bitch. New story alert: You’re locked in a room with your father's best friend. A freak, perverted sadist. You crossed the line by inviting your boyfriend over. To punish you, he straps you in a collar and drags you to his dark, kinky room, and teaches you how bad girls are handled.

' Sandra never used expletives, not the bad ones anyway; this was about as dirty as her talk got, so I was immediately aroused. Besides, I loved performing cunnilingus on her, loved the sight of her glorious red bush and light brown cunt lips. loved the taste of her juices. She'd said once that her husband had refused to lick her out, stating that she "smelt horrible down there, like all red heads". It was an awful thing to say and totally untrue. Sandra's scent was strong but highly arousing and I loved it. I was only just beginning to realise how much trauma she had suffered at his hands.

Stories and such to let me know what I might want to try. She surprised me with what she did next. She held her hand up in front of my face. Then she lowered it between her legs and caressed herself. When she brought it back to my face, it was dripping with the honey that had lain in wait behind her lips. The smell of that sweet nectar shattered my resolve. I took her wrist in mine and began to lick the juices from her hand. My arousal went from mostly hard to rock solid with one taste. I was lost to reason -- she would be mine.

She was already slurring from the intensity, thin threads of saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth and forming a small puddle on the table. The girl shuddered violently several times. A few weak waves of thin white fluid shot from the head of her little cock, spraying onto the edge of the table. She was flipped onto her back again. Her sweat-soaked white shirt hung uselessly around her waist, while most of her smooth back was covered in fine beads of sweat and the red erotic marks left by the man when he had leaned over her for fierce kisses. Her fair, supple buttocks were almost completely exposed, her tight little hole slapped red by the repeated impact of his heavy, dark balls. Be

“Sa piling kasi ng mahal nila, doon nila nahahanap ang kanilang sarili.” “Ah…” “Blue…” “Hmm…” “May tanong pa ako sa’yo.” “Inatake na naman ang curiosity mo. Ako naman ang magtatanong sa’yo. Kung isasapeikula ang buhay natin, ano kaya ang magiging genre?” “Hmm… Romance?” “Mali.” “Eh ano?” “Horror. Ikaw ba naman may kasamang sleepwalker na tumatawa na parang mangkukulam gabi-gabi.”

He leaned down, biting my bottom lip hard enough to sting, then sucking it into his mouth before pulling back. "Say it louder," he growled, adding a third finger, stretching me wide, the wet sounds loud in the room as he fucked me with them fast. "Tell me you love my cum inside you." "I love it," I moaned, voice breaking, hips bucking up to meet his hand. "Fuck, Haiden, I love your cum leaking out of me, I love feeling you all day." It was embarrassing how true it was, how my body craved it, pussy soaking his fingers, clit throbbing every time he brushed it with his thumb.

It was the taste of their prior coupling, the taste of her own submission. She established a rhythm, her head bobbing in the confined space, one hand wrapped around his base. The scrape of her teeth was accidental, making him hiss, and the sound—a break in his control—sent a jolt of dark power through her fear. She could do that to him. She focused on the physicality of it, the slick friction of her mouth, the way his girth stretched her lips, the heavy weight on her tongue. Her own arousal was a damp, aching throb, untouched and desperate.