Erotica Historical Novels & Stories

“Absolutely, Master, I am yours. Have you never even fantasized about having a slave before?” “The last woman I was with was my wife; we never played any fantasy games. I have not touched anyone in ten years.” I felt the pang of loss begin to grow in my chest again. “Master, I am so sorry. I never knew you were married. May I make a suggestion that might help you to understand what you have gotten yourself into?” “I would be glad to hear anything you have to say.” She then suggested a couple of websites for me to read. Stories and such to let me know what I might want to try.

The way her breath had caught when I touched her last week, the soft swell of her mound under my gloved fingers, the faint sheen of arousal I’d seen between her thighs when she thought I wasn’t looking. I leaned against the wall in the private room, unzipped my jeans, and pulled myself out. Thick and already leaking. The head flushed dark, a bead of precum sliding down the underside. I wrapped my fist around the base and stroked once—slow, deliberate—picturing her on my table again. Soft curves. Full tits straining against her bra. That delicate flush creeping up her neck when I’d said her skin took the lines beautifully. I remembered the others: Claire, married ten years, wedding band flash

but instead she rubbed her gigantic tits on his face, and stroked his cock at the same time. She created perfect sensual friction that caused Light to close his eyes, stand still, and let himself be pleasantly tortured. Lexi inhaled as much sexual energy as she could from Light from this action. Many centuries of practice had enlightened her on the fact that this was the quickest method to make a straight man cum. The sexual energy emanated from humans produces testosterone in Sex Demons. That was why Lexi and her husbands preferred to consume the sexual energies of attractive and freaky humans only. Where can you find those? Of course, on the dark web.

She had never craved for a man's cock as much as she craved his at that moment and she had no idea why. Perhaps it was his dangerous calmness, or how he reaked of sin. Or maybe it was because he was the hottest man she had ever set her eyes on. Whatever it was, she wanted it. She wanted that darkness to be wrapped around her like a blanket. Thinking about him all night gave her goosebumps. She remained wet until morning. She had no other choice but to pull out her rose toy. Cummig for the third time that day seemed to do the trick, and she ended up sleeping like a baby early the next morning.

The assigned text, Bataille’s Erotism, was a descent into philosophical darkness. It spoke of the sacred and the profane, of violence as a gateway to ecstasy, of transgression as a necessary rupture of the mundane world. Elara read it in her small apartment, her body still sore and marked from the last session, the words resonating in her bones. She understood, now, that her thesis was not merely an academic exercise. It was a lived experience, a mapping of her own violation and transcendence.

My clit ached, begging for touch after last night. He laughed, low rumble vibrating through his chest into mine. "Please what? You want me to finger that needy cunt? Make you squirt all over my desk?" His fingers pressed firmer against the fabric, rubbing slow circles over my clit through the panties. The friction was maddening, building that fire again, but not enough. The wet spot grew, soaking through, his fingers slick with my arousal. "Fuck, listen to that. Your pussy's talking, Mira. Sloppy and desperate."

Tasha reached under me and found my clit, rubbing it in tight circles while Monica continued the spanking. By the tenth strike my ass burned and my pussy throbbed. Monica set the paddle aside and leaned down, pressing a kiss to each heated cheek. "Good girl," she murmured. Tasha rolled me onto my back again and spread my legs wide. She picked up the vibrator, turned it on high, and pressed it directly against my clit without mercy.

She said, "Don't worry about it. Look all you want. It's not like I'm going to lose anything." She really didn't care. She was showing off her smooth legs right in front of me and letting me stare all I wanted. I smiled back and said, "You're really something. Those are the prettiest legs I've ever seen." And just like that, we started chatting back and forth. It turned out that her name was Lauren Ward. She had a boyfriend, but he could never satisfy her. Every time they were together, he would be done after just a few moments. The more frustrated Lauren became, the more she craved release, so she started using toys to take care of herself.