Erotic Written Stories Novels & Stories

He rubbed his shin, where I just kicked him while gaping at his idiocy. “Seriously! How can you even say that? Erotica basically means fucking anyone within a 10 meters radius! Romance means it has a storyline and the characters are faithful!” I explained to him, flailing my hands around me. “O-kay... I’ll pretend I understood that.” Dodging another kick, he rose from his chair and began putting his books back inside his bag. “I need to head back now. Mom had a night-and-day shift, so I have to cook dinner. See you on Monday!”

####### Author's Note: I have some stories already written on the platform that you can check out; 1. Moonchild; The Rise of the Lycans. 2. All shades of Passion (erotica) kindly read and them to your library. Love you all.

Derick, who had no idea what I have just done. I touched my lips, then my neck, then lower—just once, through my skirt—and felt her breath catch. I grabbed my bag, got out of the car, and walked toward the apartment. I walked into the apartment still feeling Mr. Grant’s cum leak out of me with every step. Derick was on the couch in a t-shirt and sweatpants, scrolling on his phone. He looked up and smiled. “Hey, baby. Long day?” “Yeah.” I went straight to the shower, but I didn’t wash between my legs. I left his cum inside me on purpose. When I came out in just a towel, Derick was already hard. He pulled me onto the bed and kissed me like he always did—soft, familiar, safe.

Stories and such to let me know what I might want to try. She surprised me with what she did next. She held her hand up in front of my face. Then she lowered it between her legs and caressed herself. When she brought it back to my face, it was dripping with the honey that had lain in wait behind her lips. The smell of that sweet nectar shattered my resolve. I took her wrist in mine and began to lick the juices from her hand. My arousal went from mostly hard to rock solid with one taste. I was lost to reason -- she would be mine.

He studied the title - Watching Me, Watching You - then carefully flipped it open. Words leapt up from the page at him. Words that in his current hyper-sensitised state, carried arousing and magical weight: ‘naked’, ‘moist’, ‘distended’. Every letter, every sound in his head, every nuance of meaning seemed to scream to his cock about the body of the writer herself. ‘You can borrow that if you like,’ Diamanda said, looking up briefly from the wafer-thin portable computer notepad she’d pulled out of her other pocket.

Well there was only two weeks left to enjoy her and I was doing that as much as I could. Not that I didn't actually enjoy the class itself as I had indeed been writing for the last couple of years. The only problem was what I was writing was dirty stories, or as the web sites called it; erotica. I was pretty good at it and at the urging of my then girlfriend Julie, had submitted a few to a story site named Erotic escapes where under the pen name hotforteacher I'd gotten some pretty good reviews.

Hello, my daring readers, I trust the previous story still lingers on your skin. As the synopsis teased, this book is packed with the most thrilling, wickedly sensual erotic tales I’ve ever created—raw, intensely steamy stories that don’t hold back, written for one purpose: your deepest, most delicious pleasure. If you crave mature, unfiltered adult erotic romance, then yes… this book is absolutely for you. *********** NEW STORY TITLE: Threesome Therapy (Group Fuck)

So it is. You're welcome to leave comments, or send a message to myself or Master John. Please understand that I'm not a professional writer, and that I'm doing the best I can in that respect. What I do write is honest and true. Not everything regarding our relationship is sexual, so not every section will be filled with sex scene after sex scene. For example, Part 1 has a lot of background information that for me is important to the relationship. As our relationship evolves, you will see that many things I write about will be sexual, and many things will be more on the taboo side of even the BDSM lifestyle.

The wetness in Emery’s underwear was obvious with every step. Inside they did not stop to talk. Ronan stripped him slowly this time, kissed every mark that still lingered from earlier weeks, and laid him out on the bed. The night that followed was long and deliberate. Soft stretches of eye contact and slow thrusts mixed with the same filth that had defined them from the beginning. Ronan edged him with mouth and fingers, only allowing orgasm when he was buried deep and speaking about forever. He filled him three separate times, refusing to let him clean up between rounds. Bites and handprints layered over older ones. Emery stayed open and surrendered, taking everything Ronan gave and asking f

I stroked him eagerly, loving the way he groaned and thrust into my fist. “Such a good little whore,” he praised, voice strained. “Look at you, naked on your professor’s desk and jerking my cock like you were made for it.” He kissed me again while I stroked him faster. His three fingers returned to my pussy, stretching me open while his thumb tormented my clit. We moved together—filthy, desperate, perfect. I released again on his fingers, moaning into his mouth as he spilled over my hand and stomach in hot, thick ropes.