Free Stories Of Sex Novels & Stories

Be honest, what’s the worst, filthiest thing you’ve ever done for money? I’ll give you a minute to think about that. Think very closely… Great, now I’ll tell you what mine is… sex. Filthy dirty sex where I was used like a whore and worse; it wasn’t even by a man. It was a woman. A powerful, rich woman who turned out to be exactly the kind of dirty fantasy my body had been craving for years.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” I smile back. “Turn over,” he says. I flip around so his front is to my back. He pulls me close, and I feel the thickness of his morning erection press against my bottom. I wiggle slowly as he kisses my neck and trails his fingers down to my pussy. “So wet for me,” he whispers. I swirl my hips, whimpering at the sudden need that’s coursing through me. He turns away and I hear him open the condom, and in moments, bliss comes as he pushes inside. The angle is different and hits deep, causing me to cry out.

Her words sent a shiver straight down my spine as I shifted feeling the dampness growing in my panties. The game kept growing dirtier now. Someone mentioned the time Alex and I had sex in the dorm while everyone else was at football game. Ryan admitted he had jerked off listening through the wall. My cheeks burned so hot but my pussy throbbed at the memory. Alex’s hand slid higher on my thigh, his fingers tracing the edge of my panties and I parted my legs a little, inviting him. He stroked me slowly over the fabric pressing the damp cloth against my swollen clit, I bit my lip to hold back my moan as pleasure cooked tightly in my belly.

Brook's pussy was dripping all over her searching fingers as she watched and listened to everything. "C'mon, Daddy," Janice cooed. "Tell me what you did to our baby girl. She deserves to be loved, too. Besides, if you tell me, I'll let you in on something I never told anyone." Brook's mind was spinning like mad as she waited to see how her parents' sex talk was going to go. She pulled harder on her nipples while she pushed a finger up inside her creaming pussy hole and watched her mother slide down just a couple of inches, making her father moan. Then, she practically held her breath with her finger sliding in and out of her slit while her father told Janice everything about what happened: t

Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica. This is an erotic boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible steam, steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you. Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...sin. ---------- “I made myself tight for Big Daddy,” she leans up and whispers in my ear. “Every morning and night, I clenched it really tight, released, clenched, released…”

For this reason, I decided to move all then into strange short stories, that is already a storybook of different themes. The w******l policy does not allow me to remove or delete those books, so they will remain there but as a "paused" book. You can find only the introduction of those books on w******l and no else more. But there you can find some covers I made for those stories and that I can not upload here. The stories of a single chapter will continue to be published, of course. Each volume of Strange short stories will have 3 medium-sized stories and about 10 short stories.

The Taboo Chronicles is a curated collection of dark, twisted, and unapologetically erotic stories designed to push the boundaries of conventional desire. From the sacred halls of a silent church to the high-stakes shadows of obsessive power plays, these stories explore the raw, unyielding side of human hunger. Whether it’s the thrill of a secret shared in the dark or the surrender of a soul to a dominant force, nothing is off-limits.

I could not stop thinking about it. I am thirty-two years old and have been married to Mark for eight years. I still love him. He is kind, stable, and a great provider. But our sex life had become painfully predictable. A quick missionary position every Friday night, maybe a half-hearted blowjob from me if I was in a generous mood. That was it. I craved so much more. I wanted to feel truly desired, wanted to be used like a cheap slut, stretched open, and completely ruined while my husband sat right downstairs, totally oblivious.

You have to claim them. When he’d gone, because I wasn’t finished yet, I lay on the rumpled bed, and brought myself off with my fingers. I thought of how he’d behaved earlier, sadistic and cruel, reveling in my cries from the pinch of the clamps and the slam of his cock. Then I fell asleep for an hour or so. When I woke, my hair was in a crazy, damp tangle and my breasts were a mess of scratch marks and blotches. And he was probably eating wild turbot because he usually does when it’s on expenses at Saxby’s. I would too. The point I’m making: sex isn’t like it is in the movies; it isn’t even like porn. Sex isn’t like anything except itself.

The dimly lit loft pulsed with a low, sensual hum, velvet curtains drawn to shield the night outside, the air thick with perfume and anticipation. I stood near the bar, my silk dress clinging to my skin, the fabric teasing my curves as I surveyed the room, my adventurous spirit drawn to the whispered rumors of this exclusive gathering. I’d explored my desires before, but the promise of a lesbian orgy—a tangle of women lost in pleasure—ignited a wildfire in my core, my pussy tingling with eager curiosity as the first guests arrived.