Erotic Story Apps Novels & Stories

He licked her clit with a heavy, steady rhythm. "Uuh... Silas! Yes!" Elara cried out. She gripped his thick hair. The erotica of the hidden room was overwhelming. She was being licked by a giant in a dark hole in the wall. She felt her climax building fast. Silas did not stop. He used his tongue like a weapon, pushing her higher and higher. Elara’s legs shook, and she let out a long scream as she came for the first time that night. Silas was not finished. He was never finished. He reached for a jar of thick, sweet honey that was sitting by the candle. He poured the honey over Elara’s pussy and thighs. The honey was warm and sticky.

I didn’t wait for him to win that battle. Taking his hand again, I slid it slowly down my body, until I guided his fingers under the hem of my dress. I pressed his palm against the soaked lace of my panties. The moment he felt how drenched I was, a sharp curse left his lips. “Fuck, Abby… you’re soaked.” His fingers rubbed once, almost involuntarily, against my swollen clit through the thin fabric. I whimpered, my hips twitching toward his touch. That single brush of contact was enough to snap something inside him.

filled the room, juices flowing, mixing with the melting ice, her thighs slick and quivering. Her climax hit, her scream echoing, body shuddering, mind blurred with pleasure. - - - Eva lay awake, the creaky bed shifting under her, Hayes’s steady breaths a soft rhythm in the dark. The vanilla candle burned low, its faint glow casting shadows across the cluttered desk, the air thick with their earlier sex. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen flaring with a text from an unknown number: *You looked beautiful against the wall*. Her heart froze, fingers fumbling as she deleted it, the harsh light stinging her eyes.

Seraphina Raphael picked up the call and hurriedly explained to Tracy that he was in an important meeting, with an assurance that he’ll call her back later. I waited for him impatiently whilst caressing my breasts and pinching my nipples. His eyes remained transfixed on my chest and as soon as he was done with the call, he immediately took one of my pink buds into his mouth and sucked hard, his tongue warm and demanding against my skin. A moan slipped out of my throat before I knew it. The sound was so slutty, but I couldn't care. All I need now is Raphael’s cock filling and stretching out my pussy till I'm not able to walk anymore.

Of course, I’m beyond lucky to be able to live in a place where the ocean is only a twentyminute drive away. It soothes me. I don’t know what I’d have done otherwise. Maybe I would’ve started taking up yoga. I heard that helps broken people like me. Why does love have to be so hard anyway? Isn’t it something that should be delightful? Moving on was not in my cards though. I tried. I really did. I had other options, but I declined every single boy. They weren’t like Logan. Some of my friends recommended dating apps, but there was too much irony in that.

Counter tease, bed tangle hours of desperate fucks, tension's fire consuming. By dawn, spent and cum-wrapped, he whispered against my neck, "Anytime now, Lila. Crush unlocked."

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In such close proximity, the scent of sweat running down the hollow of Ben's neck tempted Maureen to linger there. Of course she didn't. Maureen could still refrain from acting like a bitch in front of a man who didn't know much about her. "It's not the scene you need to highlight, but the story pattern they use," Ben explained, "Almost all local eroticism stories have similar bed scenes." Maybe it's the similar reading material. Sometimes there are advertisements for fictional stories that can be read online if you use a free mobile app, and most of them have the same crotch story.

I poured the last red wine into the glass and carried it up upstairs. The laptop screen glowed as I created the website account. VelvetVixen. I, however, slipped into the black lace set I bought on impulse last year, which cupped my breasts and left my hips bare. My nipples already tightened against the thin fabric when I sat on the edge of the bed and hit “Go Live.” At first, I only teased myself. Fingers tracing the lace, slow circles over my thighs with a hand full of strangers typed hearts and fire emojis. I saw the tips trickle in, I told myself it was just for money but when the first tip hit—it was fifty dollars from someone named Regular47.

And the silence hurts worse than anything. End of story 3