Erroric Stories Novels & Stories

Derick, who had no idea what I have just done. I touched my lips, then my neck, then lower—just once, through my skirt—and felt her breath catch. I grabbed my bag, got out of the car, and walked toward the apartment. I walked into the apartment still feeling Mr. Grant’s cum leak out of me with every step. Derick was on the couch in a t-shirt and sweatpants, scrolling on his phone. He looked up and smiled. “Hey, baby. Long day?” “Yeah.” I went straight to the shower, but I didn’t wash between my legs. I left his cum inside me on purpose. When I came out in just a towel, Derick was already hard. He pulled me onto the bed and kissed me like he always did—soft, familiar, safe.

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.

Ruby clenched her fist together. Eric, feeling her hands tightening, held them in his and said, "At first, I thought their stories were too good. Each and every one of them said almost exactly the same thing. As if they were all told to say it. So, I even double and triple check everything. But their stories had no flaws." "So, you believed them." Eric nodded. "I tried to debunk everything, but I couldn't." "So, you never thought to ask me?" "No." "Because you hated me, you wouldn't trust me.

Lila We were done for the day. The sky had already turned dark, deep blue fading into black at the edges. Streetlights flickered on one by one as we strolled back toward the house. The air felt cooler now, carrying that sharp evening bite. Jerry walked beside me, hands in his pockets most of the way, chatting about random things — the worst ice cream flavor he’d ever tried, a funny story about Ken falling off a fence last month, how he once tried to ride a cow on a dare and ended up in the mud. I laughed more than I expected to. It felt good. Light. Like I could breathe without everything hurting.

“Fuck my ass too.” Rickard positioned himself. With Elias’s thick cock still pounding her pussy, Rickard pressed his own against her tight asshole. He pushed, slowly, insistently. The resistance was fierce, but with a sick, wet pop, he breached her. Liza screamed, a raw, ragged sound muffled by Marcus’s cock. The feeling was unbelievable—her cunt stretched by one man’s girth, her ass filled by another’s length, and her mouth serving a third. She was a vessel, completely occupied, every hole claimed.

Chapter 1 My fingers hovered over the send button longer than they should have. The thesis chapter looked perfect; tight analysis on Victorian repression and hidden longing but exhaustion had made me careless. I’d attached the wrong document from my desktop, the one I swore no one would ever see. My private journal. The raw late-night fantasies I poured out after Professor Brandy’s lectures, when his voice still echoed in my head like smoke. I hit send anyway. It was midnight and it was too late to fix it.

“Now I just have to get off my erogenous ass and find some more reliable faculty members to join us next time around.” Lorraine sensed her face flushing some indetermi- nate berry color. Had she heard Dina correctly? Her erogenous ass? People didn’t just say that as a figure of speech, did they? Her blood went hot as she visualized Dina’s trim, gently rounded bottom exposed for her, inviting contact. “Any ideas?” “Huh?” Lorraine, startled out of her inner movie, nearly shouted the syllable. Dina grinned reassuringly. “Any ideas as to who might be willing to sit on this committee?”

A life spent looking backwards misses all the beauty that lies in front of it. Your parents aren’t perfect. You might have realize this. But you’re pretty darn smart. So, like I said before, we have to forgive ourselves or the coulda, woulda, shoulda, fear and anxiety will creep into a crack of our weaknesses, and overcome us. Please know we’re not perfect, and we will never claim to be. Our personal journeys have stories to tell. THAT’S for sure. When it comes time for stories, though, talk to me first… because chances are your father’s are going to be inappropriate. HA!

“One drink. And you stay close to me. No wandering off.” Relief flooded through me as well as something much more dangerous than that. “Thank you.” I’d told my best friend I was exploring for the night. I was supposed to give her the details after I was back, but how could I tell her I met her father at a BDSM club and told him to show me around?

Make your move—or I will. --- Emma’s POV The next day, Grace, Marcus, Roland, and I prepared for the confrontation. The safe house was in a secluded part of the city, surrounded by warehouses and abandoned buildings. As we approached, Marcus motioned for us to stop. “Stay behind me. We don’t know what we’re walking into.” My heart felt heavy as we moved closer. This wasn’t the life I had envisioned for myself. Yet, here I was, caught in a war between men who thrived on power and destruction.