Inspiring Short Stories Novels & Stories

A gift for all my slow romance erotica lovers, a short story from: dividing and conquering the professor I,II,III Lily's POV With my tongue tucked in my cheeks, I press the new toy against my pussy wall and the strong vibration causes my body to shake. “Ahh…” the small whimper that slips out, bounces off the bathroom wall. Biting my lips and pressing my thighs together only makes my moans come out louder. It's been too long since I got fucked, too long that a vibrator feels like paradise to me at the moment.

My name is Joseph Cains. At the time of writing I was still a member of the University’s music club, and I had an enormous crush on a beautiful mixed-race girl who happened to come along to the same club. This story comes from halfway through the academic year, just before her grading test. She asked me to come to the lakeside after my classes to help her practice her throws and tumbles, and I, being a lovestruck fool, agreed. It was one of the best foolish decisions that I have ever made.

“Now what are we to do with her?” “Anything, my dear Clara.” replied Narissa. “Anything at all. We can bring different men to fuck her everyday until her pussy shies away from cocks.” “Good idea.” “I know, right, Loretta?” “Or we could turn your into our very own Onlyfans star. Make money from videos and pictures we sell of you.” “N-no, please.” “What do you say, Renee?” Narissa asked the woman who had been sitting on the bed the whole while. “What makes her so special that our husbands want to die because of her?”

HA! You only get one life. Follow your dreams. NEVER APOLOGIZE for setting a goal and coming up with a plan to achieve it. I will help you. I promise. If I’ve learned anything in life, it’s that we only get one. Life is short. And no matter how hard you try to soak in each day, today is the only day that’s promised. Yesterday is for memories and learning. And tomorrow is never promised. Don’t live in fear, sweet girls. Fear is a liar that will steal your joy. So live each day with love for others, love for yourself, and faith in something bigger than yourself.

Due to this, there was a novel that was a hit on w******l, titled 'SEX ADDICTED BOYFRIEND' It was a romance novel, where the male lead was only about having sex with his girlfriend, which the girl didn't mind of course. Seeing how their relationship was moving, without him making any attempt to ask her to marry him, the female lead started getting worried. He was very handsome and a lot of girls want to snatch him from her, but luckily, he was really in love with her. The issue was, sex. He just couldn't do without it for a week. A part of her was scared for getting dump after they've had so much sex, so she was trying to hint him into proposing to her.

We kept grinding through our orgasms, our pussies pulsing and leaking all over each other until we were both a trembling, soaked mess. Vesper finally collapsed on top of me, both of us breathing hard, our bodies sticky with sweat and cum. “Oh my gosh… I’d love to do this again!” I whispered as I tried to recover from my orgasm. All I heard was a deep chuckle from her before she spoke: “You’ll be so fucking addicted.” Three months later… I lay naked on my bed, my head resting on Vesper’s chest while her fingers gently played with my hair. It was crazy how much my life had changed.

Carson I had just made breakfast and was brewing a coffee. The machine hissed as I stood at the counter, mug in hand, staring blankly out the kitchen window. Morning sunlight was creeping across the tile floor. The thought of Sara filled up my head. She'd been in my bed, begging me for more. And when I pulled her to the edge, when her fingers tangled in my hair and her thighs trembled around my shoulders, she came undone in my mouth. Gasping my name. Grinding against my tongue like she needed it to breathe.

I dropped the book in my hands, my other hand, finding its way to the crotch of my bum shorts. I grazed my fingers over the areas and the feeling had my eyes fluttering in pleasure. I grazed myself for a few more seconds, loving the trail of heat surrounding my folds. “Ahh…Ace, don't stop,” I moaned, my voice sounding a little clearer than the last as I pinched my nipple. I slipped my fingers into my shorts from the crotch area, biting hard on my lips to prevent my moan from sounding too loud. The moment my fingers touched me down there, a shuddery breath escaped my lips.

Pinky squinted to read it, her eyes tracing the loops and crosses. "Collection of short stories for ladies," the title read. "Stories of desire, of awakening, of the first time." Pinky blinked, her eyes widening as she read on. The handwriting was feminine, secretive, as if the writer were sharing her most guarded thoughts with only the pages. It was a confession. A revelation. As she began to read.

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?”