Erotic Writting Novels & Stories

To mate with her, he always selects a secluded place. This is the main reason I can't leave you alone, honey. "Darwin whispers as they copulate inside the private room as Ericka becomes passionate in his romantic love, even though she is menstruating, and licks her intimate body parts to show her that she is the most important person in his heart and that there is no other reason for him to feel messy and unclean in his ways of making love with her."

Your fingers trace forbidden roads, On my offered body, fragile and strange. Murmurs open like prayers, Trembling intoxication on the edge of the flesh. Shadow embraces shadow in fevered silence, Desire lights up with luminous bursts. In the deep night where our tears merge, Eroticism blooms, wild and soft. --- Chapter 1 — Confessions of a Desire Clémence

I could feel something coming and I knew that I was about to climax. “Just cum…forget everything. Just stay with me…” EROS whispered sweetly to me. My eyes widened and I cried out his name loudly when his other hand began pinching my clit. My legs spread even wider apart as my whole body writhed from the unbearable pleasure of his double stimulation. This is just too much…

Saffron grazes his protruding canines against the crook of my neck with a low and fierce growl vibrating from the nest of his chest. The sensual kiss of our bodies grinding against one another becomes more glorious the longer it continues. It’s tantalising. Erotic. It’s sinfully poetic in a sense that I can’t begin to fathom. My arousal burns hotter with every hint of contact between us. His straining erection can’t be hidden, and the rock-hard length rubs insatiably against my clit. The slightest friction has stars dancing before my very eyes.

I pull my cardigan tighter around me, trying not to look like a woman unraveling on her fourth glass of wine. “I don’t write sex, Chloe. I write romance without all the detailed intimacy, I write about repressed trauma, losing a loved one, mystery, horror even not two people who’ve never met each other dirty talking and moan— oh God.” She takes my wine glass and replaces it with her full one. “Exactly. You’ve built an empire off tragedy. I think your readers are ready to read something based on actual pleasure or erotic tension.” “Ew. Who even reads things like that?”

I grab her. My lips melt into hers, her skin meeting mine erotically. Her body is hot everywhere I touch her. I take her flimsy skirt off first, my fingers hooking on the hook for second, hesitant, before I rip it open. The skirt tears, revealing her pretty light pink pussy. Have I mentioned how soft her skin is? “Commando?” I say softly, smiling into her eyes, and she doesn't bother with a reply. She's forceful, movements impatient. Her hand pulls my head between her legs and I'm enclosed in their warmth. The heady, sweet scent of her pussy makes me drowsy, drunk.

When he put the paper on the edge of the soundboard and started to write, she smiled. Looking over his shoulder to check his progress, she said, “Now write: To make it up to her, I will suck on her clit until she comes.” His head snapped up, and he pinned her with a look that made her toes curl in her sneakers. She knew how Eric’s mind worked. Half of his excitement, maybe more, came from thinking about sex, and this would definitely make him think about it.

“I need you, Eric. Please… I’m sorry… it is lovely… but I need you inside me… please.” He crawled up over my body and kissed me, his hard c*ck poking against my groin, bumping my cl*t and p*ssy lips. He moved his lips to my breasts, sucking my n*ppl*s, and I moaned, again. I felt his c*ck moving over my sl*t and looked down between our bodies. His hand was rubbing his hard c*ck along my sl*t, the head of his c*ck was slick with my juices, and I moaned again.

Her juices coated his lips, and she moaned loudly, “Mmm, yes.” “Write now,” Hayes said. His tongue swirled over her clit, and he handed her a pen. “Write how my screaming slut’s pussy needs me.” Eva’s hand shook, and she scribbled, “My pussy belongs to him, I’m his dirty girl.” Her fingers rubbed her clit faster, screams echoed, “Aaah! Oh god!” His tongue licked deeper, tasted her slickness, and she cried, “Please, more!” He pulled back, teasing her. “Not yet, beg louder.”

“Well, aside from people in a romantic relationship usually do sweet things with each other, you are an erotic romance writer too.” I wrinkled my brows, “And?” “And that means you have experience. You can’t write something you haven’t experienced yet, right?” “Of course, I can. I write stories based from what I have read, I observed from people, and what I have watched. Writing a sex scene doesn’t mean I already had sex with someone, Natalie. Wait, do you really think I will agree to have sex with someone I am not married with?” Natalie shook her head, “O-Of course not, I-I don’t think of you like that, Sunny.”