Erotic Story Swing Novels & Stories

" I'm so sorry I didn't clean up before you and I did it when you got home. I promise; I really wanted you with me. I might have been extra horny from the naughtiness, but I wanted so bad to make love with you soon as we got home." She began to make promises of making it up to me. I was so horny at the time that I wasn't afraid to say anything. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to ask her to join a swing club. I reasoned that she had already done it with someone else and that it would be fair. I also reasoned that we would be honest with each other if we had a swap together and that she would be doing it too and not just me getting her back for what she had done.

she groaned. He held her waist and suddenly sat on the sex swing, causing its length to go all the way inside her. She felt it reach her uterus; she closed her eyes. "Ride me," Tyeron whispered. She quickly followed his command, moving as he dictated. It was easy for her because holding onto the handle of the sex swing helped her move her hips properly. The man's hand was still on her waist, guiding her as she moved up and down. “Ah! Ah! Oh! Yes!” she groaned as she felt she was close.

My tits jiggling with every movement. He gripped my hips, guiding me and thrusting up to meet my rhythm. The wooden wall creaked around us. His cassock was bunched around his waist and my dress was bunched around my neck too. We were completely exposed in the middle of the church. He reached between us and rubbed my clit furiously. “Come on me again,” he growled. “Let God and the saints hear how much you love sinning on my cock.” I shattered for the third time, my pussy convulsing around him. Father Elias groaned loudly, buried as deeply as possible, and came with a guttural sound.

“Oh I'm not trying to scare you, little sister. Instead of October 30th, I can make this the night of February 14.” “What do you mean?" He puts his hands out with his palm open, "You wanna be scared all night? Or you wanna be horny? Pick. Quick." "Hmm,” the words were beginning to get clearer in my head. I could already begin to see the images. “I want the left hand." "But wait,” I suddenly woke up from my illusion. “How're we gonna do it? I'm in a net. I'm trapped.” “Ever heard of a sex swing?" He poked a string of the net pulling it back before letting go. "What’s the difference?”

His hand once again grasping my neck in a gentle hold, his fingers pushing down slightly and a moan escapes my lips. Moving his hand, he reaches up. Releasing my wrists from the rope, his hands grab mine and guide me across the room. Lifting me up, he sits me on the fabric of the swing. His hands place mine high up, his lips gently kissing down my body. Reaching my sex, his tongue trails along my clit. Slowly pushing into my pussy, his tongue teases, pushing in and out.

Mark and Sarah pulled their sleek black SUV into the discreet underground parking of Club Eclipse, the city’s most exclusive high-end swingers venue. At 34 and 36 respectively, they had talked about this night for months, fantasies whispered during slow Sunday mornings, boundaries negotiated over wine. Tonight they were finally here. Sarah’s heart hammered as she smoothed the short emerald dress that hugged her full C-cup breasts and flared over her hips. Mark squeezed her hand. “We can leave anytime, baby. Just say the word.”

I say, the words falling past my lips as my head tips back, the top of my head banging against the glass with every thrust and push. He steps back and turns us again, sitting on the bed and swinging his legs out so that I can ride him. I readjust myself to straddle his hips, then sink onto him. “There you go,” he says. “Give me those tits.” I lean forward into his outstretched hands, letting him hold me up as I ride. “You’re so fucking tight and hot for me,” he says. “Taking my cock like it’s the best fucking thing you’ve ever had.”

His tiny caged cock, locked in a pink steel chastity cage for four straight months now, leaked constantly whenever she even whispered about her plans. It was Cindy’s 29th birthday. She had rented out the entire top floor of an exclusive rooftop club in Manhattan that catered to the city’s most discreet high-end swingers and kink community. The venue had a glass-walled penthouse suite overlooking the skyline, complete with a large circular bed platform in the center, multiple couches, a fully stocked bar, and a raised stage area with spotlights.

I turned us in a swift, powerful motion, her legs wrapping around me instinctively as I carried her to the bed. She didn't resist. I dropped her onto the mattress and I climbed up and laid back beneath her. "Get on top." Her breath hitched. "Ride me, Sara." My voice was rough, commanding—unapologetically hungry. "Show me what taking charge really means." I watched her—watched as she crawled over me, straddling my hips, her knees bracketing my body. My cock was already hard and waiting, and the heat between her legs was unmistakable as she reached down, guiding me to her entrance.

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