Erotica Authors Novels & Stories

"Say it. What do you want?" His hand grabbed one of my breasts and fumbled with the nipple. "I want... it," I breathed out, biting my lip. "You want what?" he asked, his finger still deep inside me. My whole body was shaking from the sensation. I could feel my orgasm building up. "I want your finger inside me," I said. "Good girl. I will finger your little pussy so deep, Sara." And he did. ⸻ "Good morning, Sara." A yawning Layla walked into the kitchen. I gave her a look. "Good morning, sleepyhead. You sleep like a corpse."

She was dimly aware of Jenna moving closer, her presence adding a layer of eroticism to the already charged scene. Travis's hands grasped her hips, his touch sending shivers of pleasure through her body, as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "Are you ready, Sadile?" he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent a jolt of excitement through her. Sadile nodded, her body trembling with anticipation, as she surrendered to the pleasure that awaited her, to the unknown delights that

“You know what? Why don’t you bend me over the desk? I want to feel this cock even deeper.” Marcus nodded eagerly and pulled out. Elena slid off the desk, spun around, and shoved her fat, juicy ass toward him. Every little movement made her cheeks jiggle softly, the sight so hypnotic that Marcus gulped hard, his cock twitching visibly. She bent forward over the desk, laying her upper body flat against the wood. Her thick thighs spread wide, ass pushed back invitingly, pussy glistening and ready for him. When nothing happened, she glanced back over her shoulder and saw Marcus just standing there, eyes locked on her fat ass like he was hypnotized.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2020 KKS Dark Erotica Artwork courtesy of: eroticdarkfantasy.art on I*******m All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: k.k.s.writing4@g***l.com. https://www.kksdarkerotica.com OR https://bit.ly/KKSdarkerotica

Intimate. “Shh.” One finger pressed against my lips. “No more talking unless I tell you to. We wouldn’t want security to hear the prim little library assistant moaning like a whore when they finally check the building.” The crude word sent a shameful thrill straight to my core. I was already wet, embarrassingly so, just from one kiss and the way he was looking at me like he planned to devour me slowly. He stepped back slightly, eyes never leaving mine, and reached for one of the leather-bound books on the nearby table. It was an old edition of The Decameron, Boccaccio’s tales of lust and sin during the plague. One of the restricted volumes he’d borrowed before.

Amanda lay sprawled across the living-room rug, body slick with sweat and cum, chest heaving as the five men circled her like predators who’d already tasted blood. Diego’s massive cock was still half-hard, glistening with her juices and his own release; Tyler’s curved shaft twitched at the sight of her ruined holes leaking thick white ropes down her inner thighs. Kelvin, Jace, and Marcus stroked themselves lazily—cocks shiny, veins pulsing, ready for round three, four, whatever it took to break her completely.

My secret words and my filthy thoughts. Heat flooded my face. I suddenly wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. “I…I attached the wrong file,” I whispered, voice cracking. “It was never meant for anyone.” He stepped closer. Close enough that I felt the faint heat of his body. “Yet you described everything with such precision. The way my voice would sound against your ears, how my fingers would feel sliding underneath your skirt while you tried so desperately to maintain your composure.” His gaze dropped to my mouth, then lower, tracing the rapid rise of my chest. “Does writing those scenes excite you, Freya Laurent? Did your body respond while you imagined me fucking you in this very o

The pad of his thu‍m‌b pressed against my lower‍ tee⁠th, h⁠olding me in place l‌ike a bit while he fuc‌ked my face wit⁠h short, punis‍hin‌g str⁠okes. I could tas‍t⁠e e⁠verything. Him.‍ The fai‌nt,⁠ salt-sweet rem⁠n‌ants of Greta an‌d An‍na. Th‌e bitter, electri‌c edge of his arousal. My ow‍n pulse hammer‍ed in⁠ my ears and thro‌bbed between my legs, where I was⁠ already soaked a⁠nd achi‌ng. Every time h‍e bottomed out, my body jolted.⁠ A low, ch‌ok‍ed wh‌imper vibrated again‌s⁠t his length.

"I've never... ever considered confessing to anyone, about my recent fascination for erotica... but it... I mean, this... this, whatever it is that is happening now... I'm beginning to see... or... oh, my god... I don't know what the hell I'm saying….. I don't know what I am even thinking... my mind's so fucked up now... Ohmigod, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have said that... "Hey, Doris... you need to relax, calm down." Rood's voice was a soothing salve. "It's okay, I swear all the time too... I wrote a lot, I love reading them as well. You don't have to feel embarrassed or ashamed of what you like to do. It's your life, dear Doris, take charge and get what you want done." "And

It was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, a reminder that her awakening was just beginning. She slowly pulled away her fingers from her body, feeling the empty space they had just filled. She cleaned herself with a rag, wiping away the evidence of her pleasure, but the feeling remained. She felt a connection to the anonymous writer, a sense of sisterhood. They had shared this moment, this secret, and it made her feel less alone in her desires.