Erotic Storeis Novels & Stories

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.”

He held something out—a small, dark vial of concentrated herbs, the real reason he’d likely kept the others away. "Fuck," I let out, a choked, broken sound, just as Rox suddenly latched back onto my clit, sucking with a violent, hard pressure that sent a lightning bolt of pure sensation through my core. My hips bucked off the bed, my back arching as the double assault of Eric’s intense gaze and Rox’s hungry mouth pushed me straight toward a shattering peak. I opened my mouth as Eric commanded, my breath hitching as the bitter, earthy liquid from the vial hit my tongue. It burned slightly as it went down, a sharp contrast to the sweet, wet heat Rox was creating between my legs.

He opened a drawer and picked an item from it, one I hardly knew but few seconds later a vague memory of a tipsy trip to a sex store with some of my friends hit me. Erin was holding nipple clamps with a silver chain connecting them. Panic rose in my chest and I wanted to scram out of the office, my nipples were so sensitive that even a slight brush was enough to send me into waves of arousal. “Be still,” he said as he fastened them onto my nipples. The feel of the cold metal sent a shiver down my spine. Twin shocks of pain jarred through me. But once the clamps were on for several seconds, there was more pressure than pain.

Emeraude said, putting the envelope on the table. "Stop it," scoffed Bree. "That mannequin body of yours can still do a lot. It's just some sensual photos. You can choose your partner." "To my joy," grumbled Emeraude half-heartedly. "Call the number in there and accept the job. It'll give more visibility to the store," commanded Bree. "This is self-interest," accused Emeraude. "This is marketing," retorted Bree, smiling. Emeraude opened the envelope, took out the letter, and looked for the number. She quickly found it and dialed, watching Bree's smile. "Mr. Stefan Santoro's office," answered a female voice on the other end.

But I did recognize what it sells. “You’re bringing me to buy lingerie?” George placed his mouth by my ear. “And the whole store is yours for one hour.” I raised an eyebrow. “You think one hour in a lingerie store is enough? Oh, baby. You have a lot to learn.” He pushed the door open and we stepped inside the empty store. One wall was covered in baby dolls and chemises, one with bras and panties, and another held a doorway to a section at the back labeled “18+ only.”

She gave herself one last look and walked out—Eros must already be waiting for her. Downstairs, Eros leaned against his red Ferrari, his black Italian-cut suit perfectly molded to his body. Nothing was out of place in his presence. He was elegant, sensual, and enigmatic. But his mind wasn't fully there. He kept going back—as always—to the man in the jewelry store.

He doesn’t stop, keeping his mouth against me as he takes me through the orgasm, easing up only when my body relaxes into the mattress. Slowly, he removes his hand and places a kiss on my pelvis. I was right, I think almost deliriously. Merry Christmas to me. He crawls up to cradle my head between his arms, settling his hips between my legs as his maple honey eyes study me. “You coming might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says.

It was overwhelming, and it was… good. A thick cock—her cock, she’d started to think of them as hers—was buried deep in her pussy. Marcus, the one with the cruel smile, was gripping her hips, slamming his pelvis against her ass with a wet, rhythmic slap. “You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he grunted, his eyes locked on the camera phone propped on the dresser. “Show them how a real whore creams on a dick.”

The free swing of her breasts added extra zest to her state of excitement— especially when Dina took a moment to play with them, making her nipples spark with want. Lorraine lay down with her knees up, her feet planted on the vinyl cushion, and her clitty on fire. A heartbeat later, Dr. Melling’s erogenous ass hovered above her face. She clasped the divine, sensitive cheeks, and pulled Dina into a sitting position. She felt the sizzle between her own legs as she began to lick the sweet furrow— Dina’s perfectly poised slit. Her ears went erect when she heard a sigh as crisp as the abandoned notebook: the

Did we have sex? Of course. Just not frequently. The casino has some interesting stores within it including a sexy boutique specializing in lingerie and herbals for enhancing, healing, and recovery. He ordered some for me and I started taking a specific blend of herbs and applied some creams and ointments to help me. It has helped. It’s worked wonders actually and we were able to have a couple more rounds without too much trouble. “We didn’t fuck like rabbits,” I finally confess and she surprisingly smiles at that. “He’s been really patient with me and helping me get the right stuff to heal, recover, and all that. Will we fuck like rabbits in the future? Probably.”