Fictional Taboo Sex Stories Novels & Stories

she says panting quietly and I pull out my fingers from between her legs. I want to lick it too and know what she tastes like but…I need to be the voice of reasoning between the both of us. “What we just did is a taboo…we shouldn't do it again” I say to her and before she can respond, dad parks the car. “Liam and Gianna, you'll share a tent” dad says. We already knew, but hearing it again after what we just did speaks of a lot of forbidden things waiting for us.

The flight back was a descent into a special kind of hell, a pressurized tube of recycled air and unspoken dread. The silence was not the comfortable, shared quiet of two people who knew each other well. It was the heavy, suffocating silence of a battlefield after the fighting has stopped, a silence filled with the ghosts of what had transpired. Emma sat in her business class seat, staring out the window at the endless expanse of clouds, but she wasn’t seeing the sky. She was seeing Mr. Dubois’s face, feeling his hands on her, tasting his cock in her mouth. She was feeling Mr. Carter’s brutal thrusts from behind, hearing his possessive growls, the sound of his voice as he commanded her to co

The hard length of him pressed against my thigh through his jeans, a silent reminder of his earlier confession, of what he claimed I’d awakened in him after years of nothing. My voice cracked before I could stop it. The word hovered on the tip of my tongue, sharp, dirty, forbidden. I hadn’t said it out loud in years. My parents had drilled it into me early. Nice girls don’t talk like that, Lila. It’s vulgar. It’s beneath you. Even now, miles away from their house, the rule clung to me like damp clothes. I bit my bottom lip so hard I tasted copper, trying to trap the word before it escaped.

as Gwen lowered down and began sucking on the juicy meat, kissing and caressing her stepmother's skin. These were the kinds of thoughts that kept him up at night. Furiously stroking away, that is. Imagining and dreaming... hoping and praying! Though knowing that never in a million years could his mother-daughter threesome experience ever come to fruition. It was the kind of thing left to outlandish p**n videos and subpar smut. The kind of unbelievable, entirely outrageous story lines where several sexy women just miraculously throw themselves at a young, horny man – as if his penis possessed some ungodly power that women found irresistible. No, not Harry... he knew better than to equate real

I ordered pizza for us and as they gamed, I fired up the laptop in my bedroom, curious to read the stories he'd been stroking to yesterday. As I read story after story, I was shocked both at the content of the stories and by what these stories were doing to me. My pussy was on fire, and my left hand slowly pleasured myself as I read each incestuous story. Some of the stories had dominant sons seducing their mothers, while others had powerful daughters dominating their mothers, while still others were more intimate and egalitarian in the sexual relationships between sons and mothers. I'd never even remotely considered my children in a sexual way, but yesterday's events of my son's masturbatio

He still found a way to get his hand over my mouth and he slams into me. Something about this feels so taboo, so forbidden and it makes me even wetter. “You’re going to shut up and take my cock,” he grits into my ear. “You don’t want Daddy hearing how his baby girl gets ruined by his boss in the guest bathroom.” The filth of it makes me gush around him. He’s so big it hurts, but I take it. I want all of it, every fucking inch of his cock and every filthy word he has for me, I'm going to take it all.

I buried my face against his shoulder as pleasure crested sharp and overwhelming. He followed with a low, steady groan, holding me firmly through it. Afterward, we didn’t rush apart. He stayed. Tracing idle patterns along my back. “You’re thinking,” he said. “I am.” “Regretting?” “No.” I turned my head to look at him. “That’s the inconvenient part.” He smiled slightly. “I told you. Not casual.” Here’s the truth: It wasn’t taboo in the scandalous sense. It was taboo because it was intentional.

And so damned hot. She talked about narrative structure and unreliable narrators. I barely heard her. My hand shook as I turned to page 117. When she asked if anyone had an example of a compelling line from erotic literature, I raised my hand. She raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Turner?” I stood and cleared my throat. “He wanted to taste obedience on her tongue.” The class went silent. A couple students chuckled. Someone made a low “damn” sound in the back. She didn’t laugh. She just smiled slowly.

I moaned, unable to stop it. “Look at you,” he said, his voice was low. “All shy and trembling. But you’re not a nun yet.” He leaned closer, his breath was warm on my cheek. “Let’s make sure you never want to be.” Then his voice dropped into a growl. “You’re my filthy little angel tonight. So go ahead… confess your sins to Daddy.” --- TO BE CONTINUED… --- Author's Note: Hey everyone, thanks for checking out my story! I've been so excited to share Mirabel's journey with you all. I've always been fascinated by stories about forbidden love and impossible choices, and this one has been a blast to write.

He fucks me until I forget my own name, and then he plays the footage back on his laptop with a glass of scotch in one hand and my hair in the other. And when I ask him why? He just says, “In case she comes back. In case she needs to see what happens to the girl who stay.” I don’t wear panties anymore. I’m not allowed. Not to bed. Not to the grocery store. Not even to those fancy hotels he takes me to every weekend. I sit across from him at candlelit tables, dripping wet under the dress he picked, and when the waiter turns away and I gasp because his fingers are already pushing inside me again, he just smirks and says, “Keep quiet, kitten. Or I’ll make you stand up and show them how well you