Erotic Prose Novels & Stories

The promise of the taboo, the agreement we had made, and the sheer audacity of the act reignited the fire in my gut. Even though I had just come, the psychological charge of the situation was too potent. As I stood up and looked down at my cock, I was amazed to see it already stirring, thickening back toward its full nine-inch glory. The anticipation was a powerful aphrodisiac. I quickly showered, the cold water doing nothing to dampen the heat between my legs. I dressed in something simple, my mind racing. I could still smell Lilian on my skin, a reminder of who I belonged to, which only made the prospect of invading Sarah’s space more erotic.

I curled them, hitting that spot I knew she loved, watching her kick and squirm. God, she was perfect. Every reaction was vocal. Every movement was a plea. Eva… Eva was a statue. Eva never reacted like this. Eva made me feel like sex was a chore on a to-do list. Olandria made me feel like a god. She made me feel like a man who was capable of destroying a woman with nothing but a touch. I watched her hungrily, my mouth diving back for her clit while I continued to finger her, adding a third finger to stretch her out.

“Please.” He relents to my pleading. My eyes roll back as he slides into me with a little more pressure, but still in slow motion like the first time. I tilt my head backwards and part my lips to allow uncontrollable moans to escape. My toes curl as he slides in and out of me with such skill that can rival the Greek gods – not that I’ve had sex with the Greek gods, but this is how I imagine it. My fingers dig into the sheets, and I can no longer string a word. Moans and gasps are the only things I know how to say.

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

Then, as if reclaiming control, she walks to the door and leaves it slightly ajar, a wordless cue for me to leave. But I don't. "Oh, I am obsessed?" I reply, voice dangerously low, silk wrapped around steel. I smirk, stepping closer. "Obsessed? No, Ere. Obsessed is staying up six nights straight thinking about how deep you shoved those fingers inside yourself. "Obsessed is jerking my cock to the memory of your thighs trembling. What I am—" I lean over her desk, my voice dropping to a growl, "—is starving to taste you while you're still dripping like that".

Something aching to be molded. I met him in my Tuesday night workshop. "Erotics of Language"—a curated space for writers who wanted to learn how to use sensuality in storytelling. Most came in with curiosity or thinly veiled hunger. He came in with a notebook gripped like a lifeline and questions trembling on his lips. I noticed him in the third session. He waited until everyone had left to speak to me. “I—um—can I ask you something… off the record?” I folded my arms, tilted my head. “You just did.”

" She laughs, low, and leads me inside, her hips swaying just enough to catch my eye. I clench my fists, forcing myself to look at the city skyline twinkling outside the windows. We sit, the table a fragile barrier between us, plates of asparagus and roasted lamb steaming in the candlelight. The wine is robust, a deep red that stains her lips when she drinks. "So, AURORA PRESS," she says, leaning forward, her blouse dipping to show a hint of cleavage. "Erotica and literary fiction. Brave choice, Victor." Her tone is inquiring, but her eyes have a spark, a challenge. I nod, my throat tight. "I think I'm done with just Philosophy and lecture halls. I should start aiming to print erotic stories

“Cover my c*ck with your pus*y juices, you horny little b*tch,’ he panted, hammering into her, turned on by her moans, ’Come on, suck my c*ck wh*re, suck it hard with your sl*t pu*sy. The way you suck my c*ck with your pretty mouth.’ And he sank his teeth into her shoulder, an arm supporting her around the waist, another hand on her full breast, pinching her thick teat that was sore and tender from his brutal ministrations. She moaned and he felt the heat sizzle between them. He pounded her, his heavy balls slapping her thighs, the coarse hairs around his c*ck abrasive against her soft flesh. There was something erotic about the sound of his balls slapping her flesh and her helpless gasps ea

I love contracts, because with them everything is written down, and I can use it as proof, because she will have signed her sentence without escape from the beginning. He had already fucked Erika several times from behind, while looking at her, he could feel her scent and her moans from the strong gallop she had received, but the woman was still being prey to the aphrodisiac. Even with all the sweat she had produced, that incessant act, the woman was still asking for more, submerged in the hell of pleasure.

Sweat dripped from the woman; hot beads, the product of her efforts, fell on his torso. He could smell the sweet scent of her. A delicious fragrance that meshed well with her perfume. It was part of what Terrence liked about her. It made his dick hard and his mouth water. She rode him hard, tits bouncing in time with the motion. He could hear her flesh slapping into his. In a fog of passion he grabbed her roughly, flipping their position so she was underneath. With lustful eyes he lapped up the sight of her flesh as it glistened, an erotic vision under the red glow of the tinted lamp.