Romans & histoires Erotica For Women By Women

But they didn't care, they didn't stop. "Now, it's time for some real fun," Ava said, her voice filled with satisfaction. "It's time for us to play with you, to use you for our pleasure." She walked over to the table, picking up a strap-on dildo. She walked behind me, pressing the head of the dildo against my asshole. I cried out, my body shaking in pain as she forced the dildo inside me. "Relax, Jason," she said, her voice filled with malice. "This is going to be good for you. You're going to love this."

Inside, a man and a woman were entangled on the bed, their clothes completely removed. Some people immediately covered their faces, unable to look any longer. The more timid young ladies even let out frightened screams. My mother flew into a rage. "Charlotte Young! You have some nerve—how dare you commit such indecent, shameless acts! "Drag her out here. I'll kill her myself!" "Who exactly are you dragging out, Mom?" The people in front of me spun around. I was standing at the back of the crowd, stretching on my toes to peer over their shoulders, my expression nothing but mild curiosity.

I curled them, hitting that spot I knew she loved, watching her kick and squirm. God, she was perfect. Every reaction was vocal. Every movement was a plea. Eva… Eva was a statue. Eva never reacted like this. Eva made me feel like sex was a chore on a to-do list. Olandria made me feel like a god. She made me feel like a man who was capable of destroying a woman with nothing but a touch. I watched her hungrily, my mouth diving back for her clit while I continued to finger her, adding a third finger to stretch her out.

She picked up the vibrator, turned it on high, and pressed it directly against my clit without mercy. Monica straddled my face once more, lowering her pussy to my mouth. "Make me come," she ordered. I licked and sucked desperately, my own pleasure building under the relentless vibrator. Tasha pushed three fingers back inside me, fucking hard and fast. The plug twisted with every thrust. My moans vibrated against Monica's clit.

Tits a little on the small side, but perfectly formed. Since they'd moved in with me, I had them dress the same: tonight, they were in matching black teddy sets, with stockings. "Oh, Sylvia," Ruth moaned. At first, it had been entirely performative. Some of the girls were still heterosexual - there was something hot about two women making love, bringing each other to orgasm after orgasm, entirely for your pleasure. Purely to get you off. Getting nothing out of it themselves. An entirely straight woman making another entirely straight woman cum, just for a man's enjoyment. A man who isn't even paying full attention.

Her walls fluttered around me. “Curve them upward,” she instructed, her voice husky. “Feel that slightly rough spot? That’s my G-spot. Stroke it… rub it while your thumb circles my clit.” I did as she said, pumping my fingers slowly, curling them, rubbing that spot while my thumb worked her clit. Elara’s head fell back, a deep moan escaping her. “Faster now… but not too hard. Yes—fuck, just like that, Ethan.” She started rolling her hips, riding my fingers, her heavy breasts bouncing with every movement. Her pussy made wet, obscene sounds as she fucked herself on my hand, grinding against my palm.

Dim red lights dangled from exposed brick ceilings, casting a sultry, crimson glow over patrons clad in leather, latex, and lace. In one dimly lit corner, a raised stage hosted a live demonstration that made Kyra's breath catch: a lithe woman bound in intricate shibari ropes, her body arched in exquisite ecstasy as her Dom—a stern figure in black—whispered commanding words into her ear, a flogger trailing lightly over her flushed skin, eliciting soft gasps.

Those attending her fucking seemed to like her orgasm. William finished in her pussy as well. By now she was a dripping mess between the two men’s deposits and her own amrita flowing easily. “She’s a swamp,” William declared, pulling his cock free. “Need a towel?” George asked. “I have a better idea,” said a voice that was distinctly feminine. That surprised Fia, though it shouldn’t have. She had just assumed that everyone watching her get fucked was a man. “What’s that?” asked George. “My slave is practically drooling for her.” Fia listened carefully. Whoever the woman was, she wasn’t Julie. Fia wasn’t sure if she was disappointed at that or not.

He thrust into her one more time, and she came again, screaming out his name. Her thighs shook, and her head fell forward onto his shoulder from the climax. She had never had so many orgasms in a row like that. Martin must have known she was touch-starved and the seduction tactic would work on her. But she didn't care. Who wouldn't want such an experience from the person they loved the most? "I can't take this anymore," she whimpered in his ear, completely out of breath.

Masculine in its restraint, yet unmistakably lived in. Elizabeth slipped off her heels at the entry, bare feet silent on the cool floor. Her eyes drifted to the art, several pieces caught her immediately. Framed photographs and paintings of women entwined: soft curves pressed together, mouths open in ecstasy, hands gripping thighs, backs arched. Lesbian erotica rendered with reverence, beautiful, unapologetic, sensual. One in particular: two women on silk sheets, one straddling the other, heads thrown back, fingers buried deep. The composition was raw yet tender.