Hedonism Stories の小説・ストーリー

I dived into my bed with the magazine. “Just what I needed.” I muttered, I was very horny, but I tried to fight the thoughts that were coming to my mind, but the magazine in front of me wasn't helping matters. "Fuck it," I muttered, carefully scanning the magazine. It was a sex and foreplay guide. My eyes nearly popped off at the next picture. A man was sucking off the breasts of a woman who was obviously enjoying herself. I felt a rush to my pussy. I instantly knew had to do this before I completely lost my mind.

Stone had never seen it happen before in his entire twenty-year career. Not only had he given Hannah an orgasm, he had given her her very first orgasm. That thought and the memory of her pussy convulsing right before his eyes remained in the back of Dr. Stone's head for the rest of the week. He jerked off to the thought several more times, unable to resist himself despite knowing that it was completely unprofessional and would get him fired if anyone ever found out.

Marcus leaned back against the desk crossing his arms so the fabric pulled tight across his chest. “Predatory depends on consent Sarah. If both parties are adults and they want it, who the hell are we to judge the heat between them? Take these classic stories. The men aren’t saints. They’re flawed hungry bastards who see something they crave and go after it. The women aren’t victims either. They’re dripping for it. Wet and reckless because the forbidden touch sets their skin on fire.” Fuck. My face burned. I uncrossed my legs and felt a slick rush between them. The way he said dripping made my clit throb.

The dark, desperate craving that had been consuming me from the inside out was finally silenced. Raymond stayed behind me for a moment, his forehead resting against my back, while Richard reached for a glass of champagne, his hand steady as he poured a drop onto my skin and licked it off. I closed my eyes, listening to the waves against the hull, savoring the sticky, heavy warmth of their combined release. I was no longer the hollow shell of a woman I had been. The Widow’s Hunger had finally been satisfied. The celebration had only just begun.

WARNING! THIS IS A NON-CONSENSUAL STORY. PLEASE BE WARNED. IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE IT AVOID THIS PARTICULAR STORY. As I mentioned, I write based on the prompts readers give if it's not too extreme. This doesn't mean the author supports this in real life. Note: There are limits I won't cross when writing these collections, so when you request a certain story, don't cross a certain line. I won't write it. CHAPTER 1 The bar smelled like spilt beer and old cigarettes. A few people were scattered around the tables. It was late August, and most of the town was at the county fair.

The protagonists - Diamanda and himself — were his choice of course, but the scenario, the setting and the nitty-gritty of the bedroom action came straight from one of the lady’s own stories, The Spider's Web, which was all about a beautiful, sexually voracious woman who picked up young men in bars and lured them to hotel rooms to fuck them. Would that it would happen for real, thought Elliot desperately as he considered ordering another drink. It didn’t look as if she was coming in tonight. Two small beers later, he felt the urge to visit the men’s room and as‘he trudged wearily in its direction, he decided that once he’d dealt with his natural function, he’d cut his losses and leave. When

My hips ground against his hands shamelessly as if my body was begging for a release. He bit into my ear, making my whole body quiver. “You come when I say you come, not before.” Tears gathered at my lashes as he pushed me higher, fingers pumping into me until my climax was just on the edge. I was seconds away when he pulled out of my completely, leaving me gasping, knees threatening to give out. The bastard smirked down at me. I whimpered, humiliated but needy. Then I heard it, the sounds of heels clicking on the pavement. A woman’s voice filled the air, laughter carrying in the air. Adrian’s eyes glinted with something wicked. His hand slid back between my thighs, fingers thrusting into me

And the silence hurts worse than anything. End of story 3

Stranded, no rules? Thea laughed, sipping her water. “Wild. You gotta get creative to survive.” Jon raised an eyebrow, sitting beside her. “Creative, huh? Sounds like a story.” Adam grinned. “Let’s just say we kept each other… entertained.” Nate chuckled. “Oh, I bet. Spill it.” Thea leaned back, a familiar sparkle in her eyes. “What happens on a deserted island stays on the island, right?” Jon’s gaze darkened, intrigued. “Not always. I’m into stories like that. Ever try an orgy? Threesomes, foursomes… gets the blood pumping.”

"There's no story." "Oh, I disagree." She waves the polaroid in my face. The image had developed now—Simone's face half-hidden, but my profile is clear. "Damien Adams, tech philanthropist, fucks a stripper raw in a strip club. He calls himself daddy and begs her to cum." She tilts her head. "Your shareholders would love that." I remained unfazed. "This is illegal, whatever you publish would be taken down." "Who said anything about publishing?" She steps back, tucks the Polaroid into her tiny clutch purse. "You know where to find me."