Erptic Stories Novels & Stories

“Says the Alpha who gave his Luna oral sex in dream land.” “That would actually a very interesting story plot.” “Exactly why we should be doing more adventurous things while fucking…to spice up our lives and make good story plots.” “Hmm.” “Yeah, you mentioned one time that Everlery likes writing…she can write erotica stories with what we do and who knows? We might be the inspiration to a bestseller book.”

Story Note: “Room for One More” is a standalone short from my erotic collectiona mix of intense, sensual, and sometimes forbidden stories that explore the raw edges of desire. Each story introduces new characters, new fantasies, and unapologetically explicit encounters. This particular tale features a taboo dynamic between step-siblings, told with heat, dominance, and no holding back. Reader discretion is advised. *************************************************

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.

"So... you like erotic stories, don't you, my son?" He attempted to speak, but I interrupted his stammer, reaching down to place my finger to his lips, my big tits just inches above him, my slightly wet pussy directly in front of him in plain sight. "And you particularly like erotic stories about sons and mommies, don't you, my son?" My hand reached down and wrapped gently around his, as expected, erect and ready-to-burst cock.

She smiled and ended 'I do sound it don't I? Julia rarely smiled, at least not at work, but when she did it lit up the entire room. 'A bit,' I conceded, 'seriously though. Have you ever read any erotica?' 'No. I just don't like all that foul language.' 'Eroticism is in the mind,' I argued, 'you don't need bad language to be erotic but equally the language of love, however crude, is nearly always erotic to some. Look I've just finished reading a story that I think you'll like. Why don't you read that and then decide?'

The above sentences are the thoughts of the author about what he thinks, but it is my duty to tell all the things he has in his mind. The space science and the beginning of the human era, why I always talk about the past, why I'm interested in the dead stories, why I tell a tale of another time, why I don't like the present and, also why I'm not narrating about those dumbasses who were about to close the mysterious case of random killing by an unidentified criminal (creature)? You might have so many questions and confusions about the fact that I puzzle a simple story in what we call a Riddle…? But you can still believe in me that I'll give you a gift tomorrow.

Greta and Eric left the Archives in the middle of the afternoon. With their notes and an appointment to see a local verbal storyteller. The storyteller specialized in tales about the history of the town’s first settlers. With lunch on their minds, they entered the coffee shop. Greta stopped short when she realized the only place to sit and eat was at the table she’d photographed a few nights ago. Now she’d seen the photos and the spirit. Greta paused a moment to ponder the coincidence of this.

But I couldn’t let her drag me down with her doubts. “If you don’t want to believe it, that’s your choice,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “But for me, it’s worth looking into. These stories are more than just old gossip. They’re pieces of something bigger. Something we don’t understand yet. And if those stories hold any truth, then maybe, just maybe, they can help us figure out what the hell is going on now.” Erica scoffed, clearly not convinced. “So now you’re saying that if we just dig around in these old stories, we’ll find some magical solution to what’s happening? You really think that’s going to work?”

“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.”