Erotica Reads Novels & Stories

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.

“You want me to...” He nodded. “Suck your nipple. Suck it as if I were there.” I lifted one breast, bending down slightly, and allowing my tongue to circle my nipple. Within seconds, it was hard against my tongue. I sucked, flicking my tongue across both my nipples and around my areolas. An electric sensation coursed through my body as I slipped my hand between my thighs, stroking my already-sensitive clit. “Tell me what you’re doing,” he asked between ragged breaths as he stroked his dick, now visible, its head shiny and coated with a generous amount of precum. “Tell me.”

Antonio’s kiss on her neck lingered, and the hands he wrapped around her waist seemed to be there even without his presence. “What am I suddenly…feeling this way….”. She opened her eyes and exhaled hotly. She could feel the wetness overflowing and her clits drumming and kicking for a touch. “Not now, this…this…is bad…should I?” She sat up and looked down. “I have to keep myself busy and my mind away from any erotic thoughts”. She walked to her small bookshelf and found a novel by a talented writer, CAROLUCHY. Unfortunately, it was an erotica novel. Doris gave it to her as a birthday gift years ago, and she never opened it, the deceit there is the title didn’t hint on the nature of the novel.

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.

Erica let out a sharp cry, a single tear slipping down her cheek as she panted and gasped. Dave leaned in, running his hand over her welted bottom to ease the worst of the sting. His fingers dipped lower, sliding into her slick folds. He groaned at how wet she was, the evidence of her arousal glistening on his hand. “You’re soaking wet,” he murmured, almost to himself, as his fingers explored her. He found her needy clit, tracing lazy, soft circles around the swollen bud. Erica’s whole body buzzed with need, her hips moving instinctively toward his touch.

BOOK 3: CHAPTER 61: Unholy Addiction “Oh my God…” she cries out, her voice loud, raw, and soaked in overwhelming pleasure. Moans spill from her lips like confessions—explicit, fevered, and uncontrollable. Lust, dark and consuming, pervades every inch of her senses, stealing her breath and reason.

Derick’s cock throbbed deep inside me, stretching my pulsing walls as the phone continued to ring. Alora’s name glowed on the screen like a warning. My eyes widened in panic, but he only smirked, that wicked, arrogant curve of his lips making my pussy clench harder around him. “Answer it,” he repeated, voice low and commanding. He rolled his hips in a slow, torturous grind, rubbing against my sensitive clit. I reached for the phone with a trembling hand and swiped to accept the video call. Derick stayed buried to the hilt, barely moving, but the subtle shifts of his thick cock inside me made it nearly impossible to keep my voice steady.

I spent hours alone reading my books, with the image of Jack’s cock print on his shorts constantly flashing before my eyes. I distracted myself, moving everywhere reading different topics. But it never stopped flashing before my eyes. I was reading, and I started feeling my pussy throbbing, soaking my panties. My nipples felt hard and aching. I went to take a shower to relieve myself of those thoughts. In the bathroom, I stood before the mirror, and saw Jack behind me. His hand wrapped around my neck and his other hand fondling my tits. I turned on the tap and poured water onto my face, ending all lustful hallucinations.

But my wear suddenly felt too tight across the shoulder, way too warm. My fingers fidgeting, I opened the Rite book. “I exorcise thee, unclean spirit–” She arched, deliberately. The torn dress slid higher, exposing the smooth skin of her stomach, the shadow forming between her thighs revealing no undergarments. Just slick, swollen flesh catching the candle light. She was already wet and dripping, her scent filling the space which hit me. My mouth went dry. “Keep reading,” she purred. “The words make me throb. Makes me want to clench around something thick and holy.”

She would worry about Jessica’s fury later if she were to find out. Their breathing became heavier as they approached climax, and the sounds of flesh slapping, punctuated by moans and groans, echoed in the tiny room. The air was thick with the scent of their arousal, turning her on even more. Fireworks exploded in her as she hit her climax, her body shaking and her walls gripping him tight as she came. With one final thrust, his legs shook as he spilled his seed inside her, her inner walls convulsing as she milked him dry.