Ghost Erotica Novels & Stories

Confident that she was ready for him and certain that he could wait no longer, he freed his pecker from its confines and carefully slid it into the warm, moist, silkiness of her woman hood. He’d always worn a sheath over his pecker to protect himself from the diseases whores tended to spread. Having natural sex was a new experience for him. Even if he hadn’t been on the verge of ejaculating in his pants, he doubted he’d have lasted very long inside of her. It just felt too good.

“My son’s girlfriend… and I’ve been jerking off thinking about these tits every night you’ve been here.” The forbidden words made her whimper. He moved lower, yanking her shorts and panties down her legs. On the couch, he spread her thighs wide and buried his face between them. His tongue was relentless, long, slow licks up her slit, then tight circles on her swollen clit. Two thick fingers pushed inside her, curling against her G-spot while he sucked. Emma’s hands fisted in his silver-streaked hair. “David… oh fuck, Mr. Reynolds,” she gasped, making him growl louder against her pussy. She came hard, thighs shaking around his head, guilt and pleasure crashing together as she soaked his chin.

He curled his fingers inside me, sending another jolt of pleasure through my body. "That's your G-spot," he said conversationally. "Which not a lot of people know is part of the clitoris, actually. And your clitoris is this spot right—" "Ah!" I cried, my hips bucking forward as he used his thumb to start stroking my clit. "—here." I felt him smile against my leg. "I don't know, Ms. Moran. I'm not seeing any evidence of ghost activity here. Maybe I need to stop?" "No!" I whined. "No, please keep looking. You just have to look harder."

Kinks: gloryhole, multiple cocks, rough sex, exhibitionism Sara's heart thumped wildly in her chest as she and Mia entered the dimly lit, pulsing gloryhole bar. The heavy bass reverberated through the walls, vibrating every nerve ending in her body. The humid air hit her skin like a caress, carrying with it the scent of sex and taboo promises. It was their 27th birthday, and this was the ultimate gift they had fantasized about for months - a night of pure, anonymous indulgence.

She was obviously as horny as hell as she raised her hips and ground it against his exploring fingers. Colton increased her pace by using his index finger in flicking her G-spot, while toying with her tits. Jena was writhing, her body moving here and there like a contortionist. "Oh sweet Jesus," Jena groaned in ecstasy, "yes, press it more harder please," she prodded him. Jena was lying on her back, her legs spread wide, while Colton was crouched over her like a lion devouring her fallen prey.

Shamefully, eagerly wet. His fingers traced the edge of my panties, feeling how soaked the fabric had become. A quiet shiver ran through me as he pressed the flat of his hand firmly against my center, rubbing slow circles over my swollen clit through the drenched lace. The pressure was perfect, teasing yet deliberate. On the screen, a woman screamed as something monstrous chased her through a pitch-black forest, but I could barely register it. All my mind was focused on was Lucas’s hand working between my spread thighs in the dark.

The silence made my thighs clench. "What kind of dreams?" he asked, still calm. "I shouldn't say." "You came here to let it out," he answered simply. I held in my breathing. "They're... sexual. I wake up soaked. Aching. And ashamed." "Go on." I let my head rest against the wooden panel behind me. My eyes closed. "He touches me in ways no one ever has. And I let him. I want it. God, I want it so bad." The words spilled out, broken and messy. "Sometimes it's in public. Sometimes I'm tied down. Sometimes he just whispers in my ear and I'm already falling apart. I wake up wet, panting, and I can't stop thinking about it for days."

Her fingers found her folds, slick and swollen, her clit throbbing under her touch. She rubbed slowly, teasing, her hips lifting off the bed, her breath hitching. Hayes’s voice echoed in her mind, not from today, but new, imagined, dirtier. “You’re my little whore, aren’t you?” she whispered to herself, picturing his face, his eyes dark with hunger. “Begging for my cock, spreading your legs for me.” Her fingers circled faster, dipping inside, two at first, curling to hit her spot. The slick sounds filled the room, her pussy gushing, her thighs trembling.

She watched as her reflection’s lips parted, her moans echoing in the room. Their fingers traced the contour of her breasts, down to her stomach, and then lower. Her hips buckled as the shadow's hand slipped beneath the fabric of her skirt. The sensation of those fingers exploring her wetness sent her body into a frenzy. Watching herself being touched by someone she couldn't see was both terrifying and incredibly arousing.