Good Short Stories Novels & Stories

I sat in the third row, legs crossed, tapping my pen against my notebook. Professor Kane’s voice spread across the lecture hall like it always did. His voice sounded deep, steady, and cutting through my fucking nerves. No one whispered or checked their phones when he talked. For good reasons. You just listened. “...and that’s where the illusion of control breaks,” he said, pacing slowly in front of the whiteboard. “The characters think they’re above their desires, but desire always wins in the end. It’s what makes the story human.”

Carina lay in bed, her body already aroused from the hours she had spent reading the erotic novel she had recently brought. Feeling the dampness between her thighs as she read the passionate sex between the leads, she closed her eyes and let out a soft moan imagining what it would be like to be the female lead. She ended the book at the point where the male lead let out a lewd growl as he cummed inside the female lead’s hole.

Professor Kane stood at the front, looking devastating in a black button-down that hugged his broad chest and muscular arms. His hazel eyes scanned the room before locking onto Lila in her usual seat. “Miss Bennett,” he called, his voice smooth and commanding. “What are your thoughts on the theme of surrender in The Story of O?” Lila’s heart skipped. She stood slowly, cheeks already warming. “Surrender isn’t just physical, Professor. It’s the complete loss of control… when desire becomes so overwhelming that you willingly give up everything—your pride, your morality—for that one person who consumes you.”

It wasn’t always like this. I used to be a good girl, I promise. I used to keep out of everyone’s business, avoid saying a word. Hell, I’d barely leave my house. But then I met Greg, and something about him made me want to be different. He always brought out the best in me. I couldn’t stay away. I needed to learn more about him … because, well, we were in love. Not like that cliché kind of love you see in the movies. The real kind. The stay-up-late and talk-to-each-other-for-hours kind. The sending-sexy-little-stares-across-the-office kind. The playing-hard-to-get kind.

They both feel an undeniable attraction towards each other from the moment they've met and they quickly give in to their desires but what will happen when young girls start to get missing and found dead in the woods and HE becomes a suspect? Dear shy, sexy professor A Forbidden love story between Professor Alexander Morero, a 35 years old teacher who teaches Italian language & History at Bedrock university, LA, California and his new student, 20 year old, Jessica Hudson. *#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#* Bonus story: My boyfriend's uncle Introduction: He knew he was in trouble. She was the girlfriend of his nephew, and she was off-limits. But he couldn't help the way he felt when he was

, it can be found on any book platform and unlike this book, Burning passion is a novella, so just sit back and enjoy a long blissful erotic stories THANK YOU AGAIN❤️!!

There was one solitary, big book on a low table between them. "The title of the tale is The Binding of Autumn," he began, his voice an entrancing whisper just in harmony with the shriek of the fire. “It's the tale of a harvest god who offers a mortal woman a choice: one night of absolute freedom for one year of unimaginable riches for her people." He didn't move as his eyes met hers. "The consent is the matter at hand. It must be freely bestowed, not coerced, and whispered three times into the skin of his throat." “Do you have any idea what sort of story you're going to be reading me tonight?”

Intimate. “Shh.” One finger pressed against my lips. “No more talking unless I tell you to. We wouldn’t want security to hear the prim little library assistant moaning like a whore when they finally check the building.” The crude word sent a shameful thrill straight to my core. I was already wet, embarrassingly so, just from one kiss and the way he was looking at me like he planned to devour me slowly. He stepped back slightly, eyes never leaving mine, and reached for one of the leather-bound books on the nearby table. It was an old edition of The Decameron, Boccaccio’s tales of lust and sin during the plague. One of the restricted volumes he’d borrowed before.

“Oh! Okay.” “You can come back for it in three hours.” “Three hours, sure!” My left leg bounced involuntarily, my body reacting in ways I couldn't understand. “Do you know your way back home?” Home… something about the way he said the word made it sound like somewhere safe. “I will call an Uber.” I answered. He seemed to be thinking about it, like he wanted to refuse but then he nodded. “Ai'it then. Be good.” Oh heavens! Being hot was enough, but telling me to ‘be good’ while being so fucking hot was too much for me to handle.

“Hmm, my answer to that has to be coapsed doggy.” “Why?” “Because it just has a way of hitting the G spot directly and I like that the man can hold my hands from behind and push my face into the bed and do whatever he wants to do with me.” I bit my lips, and I felt a tingling sensation in between my legs. I was getting hornier and hotter while seating. “I feel like a lot of other woman who has also tried this style can testify to what you are saying now.” “Yes, they can.”