Imagine Stories Spicy Novels & Stories

Hi everyone 🥰🥰 Mha Nitta here, how's our weekend going? After the next two chapters I'll be releasing an erotica experience of a friend who is in a talking stage with me. He has a weird fetish for short black skirts 😂. I found it so hilarious though. Forget the fact that we're friends 😂😂 It's weird.

Jacob let out a breathy laugh, his dark eyes locked on her. "Condom?" she asked, arching a brow. “Trousers," he replied, holding in a strangled moan. Reaching for his discarded trousers, she pulled out a condom from his wallet and rolled it onto him with care. She climbed back into position, her legs bracketing his hips as she prepared to take control. His hands gripped her waist tightly as she lowered herself onto him, inch by inch, her body stretching to accommodate him. It had been a long time, and the tightness was uncomfortable, but it was mixed with a delicious pleasure that made her shiver. "You feel so good," she breathed, her voice trembling with need. Jacob responded with a sharp s

She was looking over my shoulder at the same wall and reading some of them softly under her breath. “Hmmm, look at this one,” I said. “This person seems to have described our date last week in perfect detail.” It was a story about a woman who liked to be spanked and punished. “I like this one,” Carrie said, pointing to another. “I really think we should try and work this one into our next date.” The story was about a couple who arranged to act like strangers and meet up at a trashy bar and pick each other up. There were long descriptions about them fucking in the back of the bar as the guys playing pool watched and stroked their cues.

“Tell me every dirty fantasy you’ve had about me. I want to hear how you moaned my name alone in your room while you fucked yourself with your fingers, pretending they were mine.” The embarrassment burned, but the pleasure made me bold. “I… I imagined you pulling me backstage after every concert,” I panted, my hips grinding desperately against his hand. “Bending me over your dressing room table… fucking me hard while the fans outside were still screaming your name. Imagining you coming inside me… marking me… making me yours so no one else could ever have me.”

She starts to unbutton my shirt with speed and concentration, her head clammy and tinged with sweat while I take my time worshiping her breasts. Once she's done, Saffron starts to trail wet kisses all over my jaw down to my lower abdomen while grinding against my already hard as rock dick causing me to groan in need. “Baby please, you're torturing me. I want to bury myself in your sweet little cunt. If you keep up with these little tortures, I would go insane” I say to her through ragged breaths. My little whore finally decides to pity me when she readjusts herself and slowly sits on my cock swallowing half of it down her pussy.

when I reached for spices. I’d also done something else. When Claire wasn’t looking, I’d slipped a generous pinch of the ghost pepper spice mix Ethan loved into her serving of the sauce. The same spice she’d always complained about at family dinners—“too hot, too much, I can’t handle it.” She would always say. She hated it while He adored it. I smiled sweetly as I plated her food. Lunch started politely. Claire complimented Ethan’s cooking, laughed at his jokes, touched his forearm when she spoke. Every time her fingers grazed him, my stomach twisted with something dark and possessive.

I ordered pizza for us and as they gamed, I fired up the laptop in my bedroom, curious to read the stories he'd been stroking to yesterday. As I read story after story, I was shocked both at the content of the stories and by what these stories were doing to me. My pussy was on fire, and my left hand slowly pleasured myself as I read each incestuous story. Some of the stories had dominant sons seducing their mothers, while others had powerful daughters dominating their mothers, while still others were more intimate and egalitarian in the sexual relationships between sons and mothers. I'd never even remotely considered my children in a sexual way, but yesterday's events of my son's masturbatio

I closed my eyes and pictured Layla the way she had looked on the stool earlier, apron tied tight, clay on her fingers, that soft pink mouth slightly open when she turned and found me so close. I stroked myself slow at first, then harder, imagining what it would have felt like if I had given in and kissed her right there, if I had tasted her instead of stepping back. I came with her name under my breath and stayed under the water longer than necessary afterwards, already knowing Monday was going to be a problem if I could not get my head straight.

I order spicy pasta with pepper soup and just water. Jonas wrinkles his face at my choice of food. "How do you digest so much spice lady Rosie?" I shrug. "Yeah." Amara says. "You only ever eat spicy food. Why?" "Every other thing just tastes like... Ash." "That's weird." Violet mumbles. "Anywho... Today's bill's on me!" "Why?" Jonas blurts out. "That's weirder than lady Rosie's love for spice." Her honey coloured eyes begins to twinkle and she tucks her hair behind her ear.

“So… SPICY is it? Just that?” Bree tilted her head, smirking. “Girl, you can’t just stop at SPICY. That’s cute, but we need something… sexy. Something that makes people curious keeps them wanting more.” I raised an eyebrow. “Sexy, huh? Like what?” Bree’s fingers drummed against the table as she thought. Then her eyes lit up. “Spicy… Temptation! That’s it. It’s mysterious, alluring… it screams ‘look at me’ without giving it all away.”