Fictional Taboo Sex Stories Novels & Stories

We are just sexually compatible. "So, you both like sex. Is she a good fuck?" He looked at me and said, "I thought she was. Until now." He leaned against the edge of the counter. "I was serious when I said I've never felt anything close to what I'm feeling with you." He shrugged. "I suppose some of it is the taboo nature of our actions." "The forbidden," I said. Yes, that does make it more intriguing, but it isn't forbidden in my mind."

One of the girls had said and they all agreed. I wanted to tell them that I was ‘stuck up’ as they said because that's how I had been brought up and not because I didn't have sex. Papa was very strict with me and I he would have killed me if he found out that I had had sex while I was underage and so, I waited.

And for almost as many years I had carried the same secret fantasy: being bent over one of these tables, skirt pushed up, mouth used until I couldn’t speak, while the rare books watched in silence. I never told anyone. I barely admitted it to myself in daylight. But after midnight, when the building belonged only to me, the fantasy sat closer to the surface. I shifted in my chair, thighs pressing together under the modest black skirt I always wore for work. The movement made the silk of my underwear brush against skin that was already too warm. I ignored it and turned another page. The soft click of the outer door lock made my head lift. Footsteps. Measured. Familiar.

Damien hauled him up by the front of his hoodie and shoved him toward the bed. “Strip. Now.” Elias’s hands shook as he pulled off his hoodie and jeans. His body felt exposed under Damien’s hungry gaze, slim chest, narrow waist, the soft curve of his ass, his hard cock bobbing between his legs. Damien pushed him face-down onto the bed, yanking his hips up so his ass was presented. He spat on Elias’s hole and rubbed the head of his cock against it. “No condom,” Damien growled. “I’m going to fuck you raw. And when I cum inside you, you’re going to keep every drop.”

On a side table, rows of red candles sat beside bottles of oil and lube. "What the hell?" Emma gasped. She never imagined Romero would be such a freak. She imagined him bringing sexy girls into this secret playground. Yes, he was rich enough to get girls who shared similar sexual kinks. She thought about how he would make their bodies coil with a mix of pleasure and pain... Images of Romero doing freaky things with baddies filled Emma's mind. A rush of heat flooded her body. Her nipples stiffened against her lace bra. It rubbed against the fabric. A warm, throbbing sensation bloomed between her thighs. Her pussy grew slick. The sudden wetness made her press her legs together.

She looked comfortable, like she owned the place. “Getting late, Matt,” she said softly. “You look tense. Why don’t you tell me a story? Or better yet, let me tell you one.” She started talking in that low, husky voice. Stories about late-night deals, fast cars, and men who thought they could control her. Every one had a dirty edge. How she once made a rival boss beg on his knees. How power felt better when it came with pleasure. Matt listened, pretending it was just work, but his dick stayed rock hard the whole time.

Jennifer: Shrug emoji. I decided to take a different tack. This time, rather than pick safe, general stories, I chose a bunch of different categories and sent my favorites from each. One was romantic, about a couple falling in love. The next was about a wife who sleeps with another man. Another had a husband bringing in his best friend for a threesome. I chose one that had some bondage (not my thing, but I picked a story that was highly rated). I sent a Lesbian story and a Gay male one (again, I relied on the ratings). I linked a story about watching two people have sex in the woods, and one about a girl riding a sybian for the first time. I skipped two categories: nonconsent and incest. As

Her fingers slid easily back inside me, picking up where I left off , withdeep, steady strokes that made fresh wetness leak out. “He won’t be interested in you like that, Maya,” she said softly but firmly, curling her fingers against my G-spot while her thumb circled my clit. “Dad likes experienced women — women who know how to ride a cock properly, not innocent virgins who’ve only been fingered by their best friend.”

I could feel the slickness between my thighs growing with every word he spoke. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’ll delete it. I’ll withdraw from the seminar if you want. Just… please don’t—” “Don’t what?” He tilted his head, studying me like I was a particularly interesting text he intended to dissect line by line. “Don’t tell the department chair that one of my best students is writing pornography about me? Don’t mention how vividly you imagined my hand between your legs while you were supposed to be analyzing *Jane Eyre*?”

The door slammed shut behind us. José grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "You think popping that cherry for some rich white boy is gonna be special? We're gonna take it right here on this bar top." My pulse quickened. The idea sent a bloom of heat straight between my legs. I was supposed to stay pure for my parents' choice, they said I couldn't let there be a scandal. But the thought of these rough men popping my cherry actually thrilled me. "Fuck you... You can't do shit," I chuckled. José nodded at the bald biker. "Show her what that mouth is really for."