Erotica Written Novels & Stories

The chat went wild, replaying that line: ‘Are you completely insane? Okay, I was out of tricks. I’m just a flimsy, pitiful, helpless erotica heroine. No sudden superhuman survival skills kicking in at the eleventh hour. I threw up my hands. No point fighting it anymore. “You don’t believe me? Fine. Ask him yourself later. Let’s see…” I pretended to think. “Why don’t you start with… ‘Did she kiss you yesterday?’ How about that?” Right then, the system chimed in again.

One hand braced against the wall, the other teasing slow circles over her clit, she breathed Rita’s name. “Rita…” She pictured the way Rita had looked at her—hungry, like Mikayla was a feast meant only for her. Her fingers moved faster. Her breath grew shallow. She remembered the way Rita had kissed down her stomach, murmuring filthy praise like prayer. She spread her legs wider. And leaned farther into the counter. She could hear Rita’s voice in her ear: “You’re so sensitive here... look at you falling apart for me.” She stroked deeper now, two fingers working in. Her free hand covers her mouth. She bit down hard as her orgasm hit her like a brick, sudden and fierce, knees trembling, her th

I was traveling thousands of miles, leaving my oblivious wife at home, to fuck a young girl I had met online because she enjoyed the stories I wrote. If you asked me why I started writing and publishing erotica on Literotica, I do not believe I could give you a full and satisfactory answer. I had been reading the site for some years, had an idea for a story that I wrote out and, after a very short time hemming and hawing, published it.

" She then guided my hand through the slit in her sarong and pushed it against her pussy. It was drenched, and as I gently slid my fingers around in the warm juice, she said, "You should write that down and send it into the P**n-erotica website where they have all those dirty stories." "Literotica," I corrected her. "Maybe I will." I retracted my hand from between her legs, and put my fingers in my mouth. After a long, thoughtful suck, I said, "Hmm. Needs more basil, I think." She laughed, and fished her hand inside my towel, wrapping her hand around my swollen cock. "I think it could use some sausage," she replied.

I could drive and I wasn't about to lay in my bed overnight, horny and uncomfortable. At least, I had fucking managed for one whole week now, relying on erotic books and my fingers. But it was never enough. It never did the job completely. I leaned back against the bed, angling my phone to take a photo of me in my undies before I sent it to him. “I'm coming over. You can't say no to this, can you?” Followed by a sultry emoji. As soon as I hit send, I grabbed my clothes off the floor where I had discarded it and I threw it on, my heart racing as I grabbed my keys from the table and dashed out of the room.

Because if that didn’t work, I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do. Every single plan I had for my future hinged on this—on getting my degree, on finishing my capstone, and on proving to the publishing board that I had range. That I could write more than tearjerker love stories about messy women and reformed bad boys. This erotica submission had to be hot, authentic, believable. Problem? I’d never written erotica before. Or, you know, done much that qualified. It wasn’t like I needed the job to pay the rent. I’d taken on accounting originally for the security, the structure. It wasn’t glamorous, and I’d never be filthy rich, but it would never vanish on me. Death and taxes, right? Ol

Shame and embarrassment should have demanded she stop it from happening, but a puff of air from Erica's mouth pushed her into another realm where her father's voice couldn't be heard. A million sparks tingled just inside her pussy lips and spread up into her body deeper than her fingers had ever reached. She panted, feeling each taunting breath her friend released. Erica's eyes had never been as big or as green as they were now, staring up from below her black bush. The long lashes blinked slowly, then it happened. Nothing she had ever done to herself felt so wonderful. The same sensual tongue that had probed her mouth and danced with her own tongue was licking her inflamed labia. “Ahhh, oh

"When I was browsing a bookshop recently, I came across this. It was being sold openly. The illustrations inside are deeply improper, and the woman depicted in them is my cousin." It was an erotic picture book. The woman's face was never shown, yet her poses were overtly seductive, and a rose-shaped birthmark was on her waist. Eleanor frowned. "What is this? How do you know the woman in these pictures is Charlotte?" Yvonne's voice rang out clearly across the hall. "Because my cousin has the exact same rose birthmark on her waist." The room erupted. Every pair of eyes turned toward me, and the looks on their faces said everything. One moment away from becoming Crown Princess, and now this. Ho

This is an explicit adult anthology intended for mature readers only. It contains highly steamy, graphic scenes of lesbian sex between consenting adult women. --- In the heat of forbidden cravings and stolen moments, women surrender to their deepest, wettest desires. Sapphic Desires is a scorching collection of passionate W/W erotica, where soft curves press together, eager tongues explore, and trembling bodies lose themselves in raw, dripping pleasure. From a defiant student’s impulsive kiss in her strict teacher’s office—leading to hungry fingers, sucking lips on aching nipples, and intense, moaning climaxes—to an unexpected visitor who joins the fray, turning shock into a slick,