Erotic Storiws Novels & Stories

She tempted him even more. She approached the pole and glued her throbbing jewel between her thighs. She didn't know, but it seemed like that part was starting to get wet while she was doing what she was doing. She held on to the pole and rubbed herself, especially the lower body on the cold pole. It's like she's having sex there. The man scooped up all the contents of the glass and placed it on the table next to him. One of his fingers was already on his lip and he was holding it while staring at what she was doing. She suddenly turned around and rubbed her legs up to both thighs.

Four weeks, three days and two and a half hours was the exact amount of time since he’d walked into the La Terrazza bar and fallen deep into his very first full-blown erotic obsession. He’d only gone into the place out of curiosity. He’d been working late and felt stressed out, pissed off and bored with his relatively mundane existence. La Terrazza was a notorious sexual stomping ground, and as a young man whose turn to stomp was long overdue, he’d arrived with high hopes, a genuine thirst, and the beginnings of a very nice hard-on. He’d expected glitzy people, pricey drinks and plush, slightly pervy surroundings; what he hadn’t expected was “The Weirdo’...

“Hold them. Don’t move.” I pressed my tits tight around him again feeling the hardness. He thrust upward three, four, five times--hard, urgent strokes, and then he came with a low, guttural groan, releasing thick ropes of hot cum shot up across my chest, splattering my soft tits, my collarbones, the underside of my chin Another pulse landed on my nipple and slowly dripped down the curve of my breast. He kept stroking himself through it, milking every drop onto me until my cleavage was a mess of white, sticky cum.

Two: some small, traitorous part of me hadn't stopped thinking about what he'd said since he said it or about the two seconds after I fell, when neither of us had moved. I sat back down at my laptop, stared at the same flat, lifeless paragraph for a long time, and then before I could talk myself out of it opened a new tab. My cursor sat blinking in the search bar for almost a full minute before I typed the question: does an erotic writer need experience before writing? I deleted it. Typed it again. This time I hit search.

Almost immediately, a wet tongue grazed by my nipple before pouncing on my boob like a savage. I moaned. As soon as I opened my mouth, an erection slid in. For a second I froze, taking it all in. The excitement that had been bottling inside of me all night burst open, and I set to work. Just like I had watched in countless videos, I welcomed that cock and savored its taste and scent. Then let it slide out with a loud pop. I reached my hand to grab it, and had barely begun to work it when I felt someone slap it away.

He was using his tongue like a weapon, licking me clean with slow, heavy strokes that made me arch my back and cry out. Once I was shivering from his touch, he flipped me over so I was on my hands and knees. He took another slice and rubbed the warm crust against my ass before tossing it aside. He didn't talk any more. He grabbed my hips, tilted me down, and slid back inside me from behind.

“Just breathe, little one.” He stayed still, whispering soft words against my skin, kissing away the tears that slipped free. Only when the sharpest edge of the pain faded did I whisper that he could move. He did. He started slow — long, careful strokes that let me feel every inch as he sank deeper. Each time he almost pulled out, then filled me again, the stretch turned into something hotter. He found a spot inside me that made my toes curl and my breath catch. “You take me so well,” he groaned. “Such a perfect little mate… made to be filled by me.”

The idea of me helping Sarah conceive, of sharing my seed with another woman under my wife's blessing, was a taboo that had turned my blood into liquid fire. Lillian pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, her gaze predatory and hungry. She didn't say a word at first; instead, she slid her hand down the front of my boxers, her fingers curling around the thick length of my cock. I groaned, my hips instinctively arching into her touch. She began to stroke me, a slow, rhythmic glide that made my toes curl.

“You want me to...” He nodded. “Suck your nipple. Suck it as if I were there.” I lifted one breast, bending down slightly, and allowing my tongue to circle my nipple. Within seconds, it was hard against my tongue. I sucked, flicking my tongue across both my nipples and around my areolas. An electric sensation coursed through my body as I slipped my hand between my thighs, stroking my already-sensitive clit. “Tell me what you’re doing,” he asked between ragged breaths as he stroked his dick, now visible, its head shiny and coated with a generous amount of precum. “Tell me.”