Femboy Hookups Novels & Stories

"Nah, I was just clowning. I was a good girl tonight." "Oh?" "Yeah, I guess I'm just so fed up with those lame-ass hookups." Kimberly snickered. "Might it be time to get a boyfriend?" Amber smiled. "Soon."

Which also means some partygoers have chosen this place to be the site of intense make out sessions. The night air still carries strains of the traditional beach music as I pick my way in search of a comfortable place to sit, wincing as I hear moans and smooch sounds coming from a particular shadowed corner. "Elvis! Yes! Don't stop!" A female voice pants raggedly. She's probably on all fours, bikini panties tangled at her knees as "Elvis" slams her from behind. I'm already aroused thinking about it. Gosh, I chide myself. Stop these dirty thoughts if there won't be anyone willing to fuck you. It doesn't help that I've had only one boyfriend in my entire life, even as I turned thirty last mont

I have a sister that age. I’m not against hooking up with fans. It’s pretty much inevitable, but it has to be a.) consensual and b.) someone of legal age and c.) a one-time thing. Perth scrutinizes the preteens. “The scary part,” he says, “that shit doesn’t even faze me anymore.” He eyes the lock on the store entrance before returning to his cellphone. The other sign from her friend: I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES, BLAKE!!

In my pursuit of excitement, I lay on the bed with my legs open, frantically pleasuring myself in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Through the dark glass, I could see a strong man on the balcony opposite staring at my body intently. This extreme taboo made my scalp numb, and I grew increasingly depraved. I tried my best to arch my back as I became a shameless, irrational, and thrill-seeking tart. My name was Layla Terra, and I was a dance student.

Goodness what have I gotten myself into I sat down and called Lily to tell her not to get drunk or anything like that, after i was done i went into his bathroom and had my bath, i wore a tank top I brought and short, i packed my hair into a bun I went downstairs and i heard Damien’s voice and a woman’s voice too, i walked downstairs and saw him with a lady that her clothes seemed to small for her body, her makeup was obviously too much for her face, she looked like she rubbed the whole rainbow colors on her face, her breasts popped out of her dress, and she was trying so hard to get his attention, i rolled my eyes these thirsty horny ladies. I wrapped my arms around his torso. “What are you

My mouth hung open, this place would give people a heart attack, not me, it was beautiful to me. In the far right, a girl was tied up, while a mechanical dildo worked in and out of her, several men stood around her, rubbing themselves as she moaned in ecstasy. Girls were in what looked like a circle, their mouths connected to the next person’s pussy, slurping and moaning. “This is beautiful.” I whisper, taking it all in, it seemed anyone could join any group in here, it doesn’t matter if you knew each other or not.

My neighbor Rhea and I probably have the most charmed lives ever. We’re around the same age, mid-30s, and live across from each other on a beautiful street filled with upscale homes. We both have husbands who travel frequently and leave us to our own devious devices. My hubby, Chris, knows Rhea and I sometimes play together. Our Sapphic hookups are a constant source of amusement and arousal for him. He gets hot when I tell him about our “lonely wife” strap-on sessions and nude pool parties.

) That mental image would be a problem if, for example, Jorge and I ever had an intense academic debate. Later, while we were eating a light meal of excellent Italian take-out, I asked Isabel about the rimming ambush in the shower. She mentioned a set of "Hooker" books from the ancient collection she read, paperbacks published before we were born. One of them had this 40-plus year old Hooker person who was just drawn to the ass of one particular twenty-something guy on a beach in Greece. She asked. He said yes. (Most guys will.) She got on her knees behind the guy and did the deed while her wealthy "silver-fox" boyfriend, who paid her bills, got very disgusted watching out for the authoritie

She certainly didn’t want rumors to be spreading through the club that she might be knocked up. Not that Goddesses got pregnant often, it was a freak occurrence around here really. A freak occurrence or occasionally on purpose to cater to clients who had fetishes for pregnant women. The birth control implants had a less than 0.1 percent failure rate. The female marks visiting the club were offered a pill to prevent pregnancy when they went through their screening process. All bases were covered in that regard. Of course, the club was a popular place for single women or lesbian couples wanting to conceive a child and not have a man involved in raising it. It really was a place to make all yo

“Do you want… this?” The question hung in the air like smoke. Amara’s throat felt dry, her hands clammy. She had rehearsed every answer, every polite deflection, every neutral denial—but now, faced with him, all of them seemed hollow. The truth had been building in her chest for weeks, growing heavier with every quiet moment, every glance, every stolen second of awareness she had tried to deny. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Yes.” He didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Didn’t react in the way she thought he might. He simply nodded, slow, deliberate, as if confirming something he already knew but needed to hear from her anyway.