Extreme Taboo Novels & Stories

Their hands stroked soothingly over my skin, cleaning me gently with soft cloths while their words stayed dark and claiming. The war inside me raged on. Shame and revulsion screamed that we had gone too far. But the hunger only grew. The taboo had not satisfied itself with one night of sin. It had only awakened a deeper, more dangerous craving.

“Fuck the sin into me. I want your cum leaking out of me during Mass tomorrow.” He snarled and leaned down, biting my nipple through the lace bra before ripping it off completely. His mouth latched onto my tit, sucking hard while he railed me. One hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing just enough to make my vision blur at the edges. “Look at the cross,” he growled again, hips snapping faster. “See what I’m sacrificing for this pussy.” I stared up at the crucifix, moaning louder as he destroyed me. The taboo of it—the sacrilege—made everything more intense. My pussy clenched around his cock, milking him.

“How about you keep your mouth shut and get a good angle?” “You are insufferable, I swear.” The boy in question stepped further to the side, placing the camera directly at her face. Every single part of her body was hot but the embarrassment burned even hotter. Orions never make mistakes. Except she’d made the biggest one by even going to that stupid party. And now her family’s reputation would suffer the blow. What would her parents say when they eventually saw the video? The guys could even try blackmailing her. And for what? A few more gangbangs?

“Good girl. Take every drop. Let your womb drink your step-brother’s cum.” He lost control. He fucked me through three screaming orgasms, choking me, slapping my tits, calling me his dirty taboo slut. When he finally came, he roared and pumped what felt like liters of hot cum straight into my womb. So much it overflowed instantly, running down my ass in thick white rivers. “Feel that? That’s me marking you from the inside. No one else will ever have this cunt again.” “I don’t want anyone else… only you. Keep me. Ruin me forever.”

he directed her mouth on his cock through his hold on her hair. The forbidden held a special edge of appeal, he admitted to himself. Would he have found a blowjob by Marcella as exciting if he hadn’t have known that ever senior wolf in the pack would consider the act taboo? He didn’t know. But the taboo definitely added to the experience for him, as, he suspected, it did for Marcella.

Emma’s face burned, her nails digging into the desk edge as her body convulsed. “I’m…I’m going to cum, Mr. Carter!” “That’s it” he snarled bouncing her harder, his cock slamming deep inside. “Do it cúm on your boss’s cóck. Show me how bad you want this job” Her body snapped, pleasure ripping through her in violent waves. Emma screamed, her pússy gushing around him, soaking his cóck and dripping down her thighs. Her whole body shook, tits bouncing in his grip, ass stinging red from his handprints.

May be forever. ********* Tabby

We just pretend it never happened? …I don’t know what else to do. Your father would never understand. Then we don’t tell him. …You know it doesn’t work that way. Secrets like that always come out.* I want to scream. Want to throw my phone across the room. Instead I type: *I don’t care. I want you anyway.* The three dots appear and disappear for a solid two minutes. Finally: *You’re going to drive me insane, little wolf.* *Good. Maybe you’ll stop being so stubborn.

I wanted to pull my leg back but Mateo’s hand shot under the table, gripping my ankle in a bruising hold, pinning my foot to press tight against his pulsing erection. His eyes burned into mine, dark with raw lust and something dangerously close to possession. What a pervert. I tilted my head, lips parting on a soft, shaky exhale. Then I flexed my toes slowly, dragging stroke up the entire thick length of him. A low, involuntary groan tore from his throat. "Fuckkkk.." He tried to disguise it as a cough, but it came out rough, ragged, and far too sexual. Mom’s head snapped toward him.

The command. She swallowed and sat up straighter. “I think Steinbeck’s talking about repression, not discipline.” A murmur of interest stirred in the classroom. Lucien’s eyebrow arched—subtle, pleased. “Go on,” he said, and now his voice was lower. Isabella was already warm under her sweater. “Repression is pretending the desire doesn’t exist. Discipline is knowing exactly what you want and still choosing not to touch it.” Lucien paused. Held her gaze. His jaw shifted—his only tell. It was so slight, but she saw it. She felt it.