Erotica Female Novels & Stories

Shaking my head, I held out my hand for Grace and helped her get up. “Thank you,” I nodded. “I’m sorry but I can’t come. And if you want to fuck, you can choose from my friends to have their cocks fill in your cunt. I don’t fuck twice.” Then I walked away to go to my car. I massaged my forehead then stalked Erica again. I noticed that all of her pictures characterized her as a prim and proper lady, her clothes were perfectly fit on her body, it was so good, alluring, and addicting but not to the point that you will lust over her.

For those final few seconds, I smother her face with my slick pûssy, my hips rocking uncontrollably even as the waves of my órgasm begin to subside. Then, my body collapses forward, exhaustion washing over me. I feel her crawl from beneath me, rising to face me. Her face is wet, her usual scent now overpowered by the raw, intoxicating scent of my release. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs softly. “How can I ever repay you for that?” I ask, gentle pants still escaping my lips. “Make love to me, Tori. Real girl-on-girl love-making—the way only another woman can.” “Like… pûssy grinding?” I ask uncertainly. I’ve never done anything like this before.

Curves in all the right places, a natural artistry that makes my mind feel like it’s about to split into two, one half screaming in alarm, the other half roaring in pure, unadulterated desire. The sun, a benevolent spotlight, catches her, illuminating the delicate planes of her face, the rich, warm tone of her caramel skin. She glows. Truly, madly, deeply glows. She’s the most exquisite, beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. And then there is that ass. That utterly perfect, beautiful curve, a testament to some divine sculptor. She's wearing denim shorts. Or should I say, *bum shorts*, as some ladies call them. They are practically so short that the fabric barely skims the apex of her

His touch seemed to be possessed with a witch-craft-made potion that she ended up desperate and seeking for more of him. “Primo, ah…” even her voice. It’s hard to believe that this erotic voice was hers. She’s different because Primo uncovered the depth of her womanhood that only he can give this much pleasure. And only he can make her have the nerve to get naked in front of him in a place not meant for sex. Georgia’s body arched when she felt his tongue twirling around her nipple. “Oh, Primo… more… I love it, ahh…”

The sensation was exquisite, and I found myself grinding my hips against her face. A fourth girl, a Latina with hair as dark as a raven's wing, took my rock-hard cock into her hand, stroking it gently. She leaned in, her tongue flicking out to taste the pearl of pre-cum that had formed at the tip. She hummed in approval, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the flavor.

Irene was pouring water into glasses. Drew sat down, observing Erica. Erica's fingers were elegant, with well-manicured nails, and her skin was flawless and radiant even without heavy makeup. Her slender yet slightly curvy figure, almost 170 cm tall, made her look like a model straight out of a TV commercial. Erica also had a pleasant scent, her expensive perfume filling the room with its fragrance.

My… fucking God! Jessica was next. The red crop top came off, revealing her full brown breasts with dark nipples. The short skirt followed, and she stood there bare, legs slightly apart. Her pussy had a neat thatch of dark hair. It was not too thick, just enough to frame the smooth brown lips beneath. God, the hair made her look rawer, more animal, and when she reached down and casually spread herself with two fingers, I saw the wet pink inside already shining. Mmmmmm.

Her cheeks burned red and she gripped the edge of the table. When her orgasm hit, it was powerful. Her pussy spasmed hard around my fingers, flooding them with warm wetness. She bit her lip so hard I thought she might draw blood, eyes squeezing shut as waves rolled through her. I kept fingering her through it, drawing out every tremor while pretending to reach for more wine. The risk, the secrecy, the way her body betrayed her for me; it all fed something dark and addictive inside my chest.

The air was so thick with the scent of sex, brimstone, and fertile futa seed that breathing felt like inhaling raw desire. Lilithara stood on the raised stone altar like a dark goddess ready to complete her masterpiece. Her obsidian skin glowed with inner hellfire, crimson horns gleaming, and her massive 14-inch futa cock stood fully erect, the thick knot at the base already swelling in anticipation. Below it, her own demonic pussy dripped molten nectar in slow, teasing trails.

She first slid one finger in, then two. Rita moaned, low and shameless. She imagined Mikayla riding her face again, thighs trembling, crying out her name. Rita fucked herself faster. Her other hand played with her nipple, tugging it hard. She was close. So close. “Mikayla,” she groaned into the dark, breath hitching as she comes, hips rising off the mattress, toes curling, the sheets damp beneath her. She laid there, slick and undone. Then her phone buzzed again. "Can I see you?" Rita didn’t hesitate. She responded quickly. "My door’s always open."