Indian Erotica Novels & Stories

I am Reema, a 20-year-old Indian girl with a body that drives men wild. My thick, creamy thighs and ample bosom strain against the confines of my tight saree, revealing every tantalizing curve. I live with my father-in-law, a paralyzed man with a perverted streak and a 10-inch cock that throbs with desire whenever he sees me.

He does the same on the other leg, slower this time so it dries while he’s still applying it, raising goose bumps in its wake and shooting a nerve tentacle of plea- sure to the peak of my clitoris. The rising carries on its journey and I fill my chest with breath to meet it at the tip of my nipple before it retreats back to my pussy. He’s on to a brush now. He swirls my Japanese sable bamboo onto the wet charcoal block, round and round until it’s good and swollen with moisture. He bids me to unfurl my knees and lie back like a Vitruvian man.

Lira growls into the kiss and rips the hoodie clean off me with one tug, then shreds my sweatpants and panties like they’re nothing. Soon, I’m naked under her in seconds, legs spread wide by her knees, my shaved pussy exposed and dripping, clit swollen and begging. “Fuck, look at this pretty cunt,” she purrs, pulling back just enough to stare. Her long fingers, tipped with soft claws spread my slick folds open. The lewd wet sound of my juices coating her skin fills the room. Two thick fingers plunge inside me without warning, stretching my tight walls, curling hard against that delicious spot that makes me go wild with pleasure, my vision going white.

“This’ll make it a damn sight clearer of what I feel for you. I wanna touch you, Indy. Right here. With your back up to the wall. I wanna suck your nipples through your flimsy shirt. Taste how anger changes the sweet flavor of your skin. When that ain’t enough contact, I’ll lift up your shirt so I can pull those pretty pink nipples in my mouth, rollin’ my tongue around the hoops. I’ll suck hard, suck deep, suck for a good, long time.” Colt’s words set her blood on fire. “That ain’t all. I wanna go down on you. Yank off your jeans. Rip aside your panties and finger you until you’re nice and wet. Then I’ll drop to my knees and taste you. Gently at first. Lick a path from the top down to where

His eyes roamed over my body, taking in every curve and line. He leaned down, his breath hot on my inner thigh. I gasped softly, anticipating his touch. His fingers traced the lace of my thong, sending shivers down my spine. He hooked a finger under the fabric and slowly pulled it aside, exposing my most intimate place. My pussy. His tongue flicked out, tasting me, and I gasped, my back arching off the desk. He sucked and licked, his movements slow and deliberate, driving me wild with desire. I cried out louder, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as waves of pleasure washed over me.

“This is what you needed, isn’t it? My cock inside you while you’re still soaked from class.” “Yes… fuck me harder,” she moaned. Her breasts pressed against the desk through her shirt. Her nipples were rock hard and sensitive. Professor Kane reached around and rubbed her clit in fast circles while he pounded into her. The dual stimulation pushed her toward another orgasm quickly. Her legs shook harder. She pushed back against him, meeting every thrust. The wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of her dripping pussy filled the room.

Her cry echoed through the room. Sienna leaned down, kissing her as Ezra moved. It was filthy and slow. Deep strokes. Jade writhed beneath them. Then Sienna moved lower, licking between Jade’s breasts, down her stomach, until her mouth joined Ezra’s rhythm. Kisses on her thighs. Light sucks on her clit. Jade shattered. Her orgasm rolled through her like a thunderstorm. Ezra kept going. Sienna moaned like she’d felt it too. When Jade came down, panting, she looked at them both.

"Bend over the desk. Ass up, legs spread." I scrambled up, skirt hiked to my waist, tits spilling out as he ripped my blouse open—buttons pinging across the floor. Cool wood hit my nipples, hardening them more. I arched my back, pussy exposed, lips puffy and dripping, clit peeking out begging. He stepped behind, rubbing his cock along my slit slow, coating himself in my juices. The fat head nudged my entrance, parting folds, but didn't push in. "Beg for it, Mira. Beg your boss to ruin this married pussy."

he choked out. “Truth,” I fired back. I reached into my purse and pulled out the small, cool item I’d brought. A smooth, polished jade bullet vibrator. I clicked it on. The low, insistent hum was obscenely loud in the sacred silence. He froze. “What… what is that sound?” “My penance,” I whispered, sliding the humming toy beneath my skirt. I wasn’t wearing panties again. The cool jade pressed against my clit, and I gasped. “It’s helping me… meditate on my sins. On the sin of wanting my priest.”