Erroric Stories Novels & Stories

I used the excuse of needing to organize my books to retreat to my room, but my mind was a whirl of conflicting thoughts. I have noticed that his study is slightly opened, then I remember what he said about going into his study if I need too. So Who knows? Maybe he opened his study on purpose. The words echoed in my head again, you know, just like a siren song pulling me towards forbidden place. And I allowed it, I couldn't stop myself. I told myself it was for academic curiosity, nothing more, nothing less. I am just curious.

* "Look at you now - a pitiful mess, crawling on the floor like the worm you are. And for what? Trying to avoid facing the truth? That you made a mistake by turning me down?" *Ezra's grip on your throat tightens, cutting off your airflow completely.* *Choking, I thrash weakly under Ezra's crushing hold, desperate for air. My vision starts to blur at the edges as consciousness begins to slip away. I just need to act pitiful like always and she might let me go* "N-no... please..." *I manage to gasp out, my words barely audible.* "I-I can explain..." *But Ezra isn't listening. She's too busy reveling in my suffering, her eyes gleaming with a sadistic light. As the darkness closes in around me,

WRONG NEIGHBOR TRIGGER WARNING: THIS BOOK IS STRICTLY EROTICA. IT CONTAINS HIGHLY GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT AND IS INTENDED FOR ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY (18+). DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR SENSITIVE TO MATURE, EXPLICIT THEMES. "MIA'S POV" I was having a full-blown existential crisis at 11:47 PM.

Nova Ellis and her best friend Jade walked down the quiet hallway of the literature building at two-thirty in the afternoon. Most students were in regular classes, so the corridor felt almost empty. They had been struggling with Professor Blackthorn’s advanced erotic literature course for weeks. Their last paper had come back with a failing grade and a short note: “Come to my office tomorrow afternoon. I’m free after one. We need to fix this.” Nova knocked on the heavy door. Her heart was already beating fast.

Was it really an accident or something else? Misti's parents fell in love with each other when they first met in the past and they had a fairytale-like love story. Misti is fascinated by the love story of her parents and she wants the same for her life but she does not know that everyone's life is not the same and her love story will be a lot different than her parents'. But she did not know that her parents had faced a very challenging situation in the past but they overcame it with their love and faith in each other.

But no one knows about the other side of me. At night, when the house is quiet, I hide under my covers with my phone and read the kind of stories that would make my mother faint. Dark. Filthy. Full of dominant men who take what they want. Girls who beg for it. Degradation that makes my thighs press together and my heart race. I touch myself to those stories, whispering things I would never say out loud, and then feel crushing guilt the next morning. I’m supposed to be pure. Innocent. The perfect daughter.

Ivar says, chuckling nervously. "Yeah, it's not," Eric replies, looking serious. "What will I tell your mates if I mistakenly drop us in the middle of the most treacherous and dangerous sea on earth, escape with just my life, and leave you all to drown and be food for sharks?" This bastard! Did I mention crazy Eric is also a master of dark humor? Instead of assuring and telling them everything will be okay, he knows what he's doing. He's spinning a macabre tale of how we might likely drown and die if his magic failed.

Let him see. Marcus’s jaw tightened. His hands gripped the arms of his chair like he was fighting gravity. They kept talking. About her copywriting years — writing other people’s words until she forgot her own. About how he’d drifted into papers and lectures instead of stories. The words got heavier. More honest. Every truth pulled something tighter in her chest. Her calf was still pressed against his leg. Neither of them had moved it. The heat from his body seeped through his pants and made her ache.

There was an odd swear word in it but it seemed right for the context'. 'Did it turn you on?' I asked simply. Julia now flushed bright red and did not answer. 'Your face tells me that it did. I'm glad, which is what it's supposed to do. Did it offend you?' 'No. How could a lovely story like that offend me?' she asked in return. 'What better definition of erotic writing do you want. Something that is not offensive but is a turn on both mentally and physically' 'Do you think that that story is true?'