Erotica Syories Novels & Stories

His lips found the sensitive skin of my neck, sucking a mark right below my ear. “No one has to know,,” he whispered into my ear, his voice a low, vibrating sin. “Just a secret. Just once. I’m so hard for you right now, I can barely breathe.” He traced his tongue up to my earlobe, licking it slowly. I shivered, my head falling back. “Eva doesn’t have a single sex bone in her body,” he muttered, his hands sliding down to my waist. “She’s all career and wedding plans. She doesn’t look at me the way you do. She doesn’t make me feel like this.”

Well there was only two weeks left to enjoy her and I was doing that as much as I could. Not that I didn't actually enjoy the class itself as I had indeed been writing for the last couple of years. The only problem was what I was writing was dirty stories, or as the web sites called it; erotica. I was pretty good at it and at the urging of my then girlfriend Julie, had submitted a few to a story site named Erotic escapes where under the pen name hotforteacher I'd gotten some pretty good reviews.

Everyone was cheering them and Dylan’s legs started physically shaking. Lucy was making it very sloppy and nasty, saliva all over and it was making me so horny, man I wish that was me. I wish I had a dick. Ashley was already shamelessly touching my nipples and pleasing herself. “She’s so good”, she whispered to Freddy who was just watching the show and drinking his wine. Then she pulled out almost immediately and Dylan held his dick in his hands and cummed in it, shaking vigorously. We all started clapping for her. And cheering.

“That’s going to stay in my phone forever. Whenever I’m away, I’ll play it. I’ll jerk my cock to the sound of your pretty cries. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She moaned, pushing forward against his hand. “Dirty little girl.” He pinched her clit, loving the sound that escaped her mouth after. “On your hands and knees, Printsessa. You sound like you’re aching for more.” Charlotte immediately got on her hands and knees, imitating her current position on the screen. Maksim knelt behind her on the floor, lined up his cock with her entrance, and pushed into her in a slow torturous movement. Charlotte wiggled her ass back, wanting more.

Pinky squinted to read it, her eyes tracing the loops and crosses. "Collection of short stories for ladies," the title read. "Stories of desire, of awakening, of the first time." Pinky blinked, her eyes widening as she read on. The handwriting was feminine, secretive, as if the writer were sharing her most guarded thoughts with only the pages. It was a confession. A revelation. As she began to read.

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.”

The fact that she had a pretty face and great body, combined with her inexperience and shyness, got Josephine even hornier. There was something wild, irresistible and purely sexy about that girl. Josephine wanted that soft skin to rub against hers. She couldn't wait to rub her pussy against April's pussy. Oh fuck. The erotic thoughts of her and April in a scissors position, rubbing and pressing their pussies against each other, made the volume her moans and groans increase. She increased the movement of her fingers, brutal thrusting and ramming her fingers into her pussy over and over again, her thumb coming in contact with her sensitive clit with every powerful thrust.

It sprang out—thick, veined, the shaft curving slightly up, head flared wide and already leaking a bead of precum that I smeared over the tip with my thumb. "Fuck," I muttered, stroking from base to tip in long, firm pulls. The skin was hot, stretched tight over the ridges. Eight inches of meat that had ruined more women than I could count. I remembered the last assistant—Sarah, married, her wedding ring glinting under the desk lamp as she begged me to fill her on this very desk. I'd bent her over, spread her cheeks, and slammed in deep while she sobbed my name. Before her, Lisa—on her knees under the conference table during a call, swallowing my load while her husband texted her goodnight.

“Tonight. Here in the loft after we eat.” “Okay.” He pulled me close and kissed me soft. “You sure you are ready? We can stop anytime.” “I am sure. I want you to make me come hard from both holes.” He kissed my forehead. “Then tonight. I will go slow at first, lube everywhere. Make sure you are relaxed.” “Thank you.” “Tell me more about what you wrote. What else?” “I wrote about squirting, overstimulation. You pounding me until I lose count of orgasms.”