Erotica Historical Mga Nobela at Kwento

His free hand pinched the wet nipple he left behind. I tried to pull free. He held tighter. “Stay still, Sister.” He kept at my tits until both nipples were red and shiny. Then he dropped to his knees, yanked the habit up, and shoved my legs apart. His mouth was on me immediately. Tongue sure this time. He found the spot and sucked. “Oh God—” Two fingers pushed inside me. Curled. Rubbed the place that made my knees weak. “You taste better than I remembered,” he muttered against me.

Layla was still talking, back to us, rummaging through the fridge like she was hunting treasure. My fingers curled slightly, stroking the skin under Sara's shorts. She shifted in her seat. Just a little. I pressed my thumb gently into her thigh. Her breath caught. She reached for her glass of water, hand trembling faintly as she lifted it to her lips. Control, baby. I slid my hand higher—close enough to feel the heat of her. Close enough to remind her exactly where I'd been last night. And what I could do again in less than a minute if we were alone.

And I wanted to be punished: Perhaps that, more than anything else. I began reading erotic BDSM stories. For a while this seemed to be enough. It allowed me to escape my life, if only for short periods of time. Erotic BDSM stories were challenging to find in my small town and soon found myself searching sites on the internet. This opened up a whole new world: Before I knew it, I was placing ads on personals sites, trying to make my dream a reality. Initially the responses were just crude. Even the ones I decided to contact, seemed a little beyond what I was looking for: Cruel men, perhaps dangerous too. Finally I received a response from Tony.

“Is that all?? You can go ahead.” Naomi walked to the bookshelf and bent down. Her skirt lifted high, showing him the blue lace stretched over her ass. She dragged her finger slowly across the spines. “You have a nice collection,” she murmured, pulling one free. She flipped the pages, pretending to read. “Romance.” Her eyes flicked back to him. “Do you have something raw? Something erotic?” "Is that what you want to read?" Raymond asked. "Yeah," she replied. "I love reading erotic stories."

Something aching to be molded. I met him in my Tuesday night workshop. "Erotics of Language"—a curated space for writers who wanted to learn how to use sensuality in storytelling. Most came in with curiosity or thinly veiled hunger. He came in with a notebook gripped like a lifeline and questions trembling on his lips. I noticed him in the third session. He waited until everyone had left to speak to me. “I—um—can I ask you something… off the record?” I folded my arms, tilted my head. “You just did.”

They were also filthy rich and were amongst the top 10 list of most eligible, rich and youngest bachelor in town. Every lady craved them and constantly threw themselves at their feets. I wondered why, until, I caught Killian, during the company's 10th year anniversary party in the restroom, using just his finger to make Brittany, a fellow worker cum like crazy. Her legs were literally shaking, tears rolling down her cheeks as his fingers pumped into her hard. Afterwards, he made her kneel and suck his cock. Killian fucked her throat hard, gripping her neck tightly till she couldn't breathe and was coughing badly.

"Your pretty pussy is so clean. So untouched." He used his large, scarred fingers to hook into her labia, spreading the pink, pussy jaws wide. He stared at her tiny, puckered hole, the virgin gateway that had never known a man's intrusion. It was a pale, dusty rose color, glistening with a clear, honeyed nectar that smelled of rain-washed lilies and the sharp, musky tang of a woman in heat. "You smell too fucking good, Ruthie," he groans, his nose inches from her clit. "I can taste it."

He curled behind me protectively, lifting my top leg hook over his arm for access, sliding his cock lazily deep from behind. I gasped. He whispered words of love and promises to me and he pushed in and out of me. And with that, we both came together. We lay sweaty, fingers resting over our belly, his breath steady on my neck. "I love you Alpha Erica,” he whispered.

He reached for a toilet paper on his desk and gently wiped his chest and abdomen. The thought made my nipples, still exposed in the cool air, tighten again. I hadn’t had dirty thoughts about a man other than Nathan. I certainly hadn’t ever had phone sex with anyone besides him. I felt both aroused and ashamed.

Then he gathered more of my juices on his fingers and brought them to my mouth. “Open,” He said softly. I opened my lips and sucked his fingers clean, tasting my own sweet, musky flavor. It felt so naughty, but I loved it. I licked every drop, looking up at him with hazy eyes. He knelt on the couch beside me, his huge black cock standing tall and hard. He grabbed me by the hips and yanked me forward, a sharp yelp slipping past my lips. He grabbed his cock by the base and started slapping it against my soaked, sensitive pussy. The heavy smacks made wet sounds and sent little jolts of pleasure through my clit.