Heavy Smut Books Novels & Stories

I'd spent all day going through it myself. The 'E' folder was p**n. Lots and lots and lots of p**n, enough to dwarf even my own comprehensive collection. Unlike mine, though - which had a variety of different fetishes and themes to fit my many different horny teenaged moods - my sister's smut was centered around one specific thing: incest. Brother/sister incest.

The smell of old parchment, dried sage, and damp cellar immediately flooded the small cabin. Reaching inside, I pulled out a massive, leather-bound tome. The cover was cracked, unmarked, and held together by frayed iron hinges. I dropped it onto the wood with a heavy thud, followed by three smaller, equally ancient books. "Bro, this is giving major Salem witch trial vibes," Amberly muttered, stepping closer to inspect the pile. She poked the cover of the thickest book with her index finger. "Are we about to summon a demon? Because I feel like my life has enough drama right now."

Pre-cum glistened like mercury in the moonlight. “Open.” She did. He guided himself past her lips, slow at first, letting her adjust to the chill of his flesh, the velvet hardness. Then deeper. Her throat relaxed under that silver stare; she took him to the root, nose brushing coarse dark hair that smelled of old books and iron. “Good girl,” he purred. “Now suck.” She hollowed her cheeks, tongue swirling, hands braced on powerful thighs. He groaned, low, reverent, fingers threading into her hair. Then he tilted her head back, exposing the long column of her throat.

I could feel every inch of him go in and out in seconds, he was so full inside me, I couldn’t breathe. And not because he was choking me, but because the sensation around was killing me. He drove in deeper and faster and I screamed out in pleasure and closed my eyes. “Look at me”, he demanded. “Look at me as I ruin you”, he said again. Then he smacked my ass hard making me start begging. I don’t even know what I was begging for but the feeling around was too good i just had to start begging. “Fuck Youre so sweet Ava, damn Youre so fight”

The smell of the men’s unwashed cocks and balls was intoxicating, filling Clay’s nostrils and making his head spin. As Jamal recorded Clay sniffing and whiffing the men’s musky balls, Clay could feel his orgasm building to a peak. With a final, desperate sniff of Jamal’s balls, Clay’s body convulsed, his tiny clit pulsing and twitching inside its metal cage as he came harder than he ever had before. “Fucking hell,” Jamal growled, his voice a mix of disgust and amusement. “Look at this little faggot, cumming like a bitch in heat. You know what that means, don’t you, boy?”

He continued, "We were very much in love." "You mean you and Camilla were in love." I smiled mockingly. "To this day, I can remember the taste of those infertility tonics you gave me." Maurice's jaw dropped, and he gaped at me. I continued, "Oh, and what was it that you said to me before I died? You asked me why I'd yet to go to hell. You said my existence stopped you and Camilla from being together. "You also said that I was cursed and that I shouldn't have dirtied the bedchambers you shared with Camilla. And after my death, you had me—the dignified daughter of the Chapman family—wrapped in a straw mat and thrown into a mass grave."

My arms were lifted by strong hands so it could be slid down and discarded and I was glad to see it go. “Annie?” I mumbled, God I felt out of sorts. Half drunk and half hungover and it was making thoughts impossible. “Did I pass out?” I wasn’t known to be a big drinker, but it had been years since I had gotten that drunk that I'd passed out. Embarrassment flooded me. Annie was my friend, and I knew she wouldn’t judge but I was mortified. What kind of grown ass woman got so drunk that she had to be undressed by her best friend and put to bed like a child. And I had vomited on myself. I could smell the cloying disgustingness of it on my clothes.

Seconds later, Shandra is already a little better, drying her eyes and sniffling a little. "Pretend that never happened." The two men shrug. Doing a bit of suspense, the girl with fair skin and dark hair opens the box. Although they are stored in a dirty, dusty place, the two books look perfectly clean, although obviously aged. The smell of leather and old paper reaches the nostrils of all three, especially those of the demons. Sam picks up the two books, paying attention to the covers and their weight. Then he smiles grimly at Shandra. "Apparently, little witch, you are either blessed by the gods, or cursed by all the terrible beings in this world."

she said, smiling happily at the thought of their first grandchild. “Hopefully, ma. By the way, I’m here to get my books.” “The ones by Jakara Blue? Yes, it’s on the bookshelf in your room.” Later in my room, I indeed saw about ten books by Jakara Blue that were arranged neatly on a shelf. I picked one of them and traced the embossed author’s name with my finger. This explained why I used the name Jakara Blue as my new name in Japan. It must be because I was an avid reader of Jakara Blue’s books. Remembering about my purpose in coming here, I started opening the folders that were arranged on another corner of the shelf. I had the habit of placing important documents in a folder.