Jojo Lick Meme Novels & Stories

Every time my husband, Dave Tarrett, spent the night at his ex Maggie Gorringe's place, he bought me another building. Two years into our marriage, I owned 285 commercial properties across the country. Which also meant Dave had screwed me over 285 times. After the deed to property number 286 landed in my hands, Maggie sent me another smug little video. "So what if Dave throws money at you? I'm the one who gets his body and his heart. You might be some international supermodel, but you still can't get your own husband into bed." I didn't bother arguing. Instead, I mailed her the newest Victoria's Secret set from my latest runway show. When Dave found out how "generous" I'd been, he rewarded me by taking me to some elite social event. During a party game, Maggie lost three rounds straight and got dared to lick whipped cream off some playboy's thigh. She grabbed a wine bottle, smashed it, and shoved the jagged edge against her neck. "Dave, I'm not letting anyone humiliate me like this!" Dave—usually cold as ice—instantly panicked. Then he turned to me. Of course he did. "It's just whipped cream," he said softly. "Do this for her. I swear I'll go home with you after." Everyone waited for me to lose it. But I stayed calm and agreed without a word. He didn't know this was the 287th time he'd hurt me. And I was done being his pet. Once I paid back the debt I owed him for saving my life, we'd be done for good.

I open my mouth again but before I can say another word, Ryder lays a finger over my lips and shakes his head. “Who are you going to obey?” I lick my lips, the total command in his voice making not just my pussy but also my heart sing. “You, Ryder,” I breath. “Good girl.” ~ #1: Never kneel for the man who destroyed you. #2: Never let him see that part of you still wants to. Lila Mitchell has broken both rules within the first hour. Lila is an FBI agent on a dangerous undercover mission to pose as a submissive and rescue her kidnapped bestfriend from a ruthless human trafficking ring. But when her trainer turns out to be her ex boyfriend Ryder Kane, the man who shattered her heart twelve years ago, every wall she built comes crashing down. ~ Hi, loves! Before we begin… yes, observant readers are absolutely correct. This story takes place in the same universe as SIR and the Red Room still very much exists behind its infamous black doors. But no... it's not going to have any cameo from David and Nora unfortunately, since it takes place years after they leave the club. You absolutely don't need to read SIR first, but if you have, keep your eyes open for little easter eggs throughout the story 🙃 Now buckle up, because Ryder and Lila are about to wreck each other in the best possible way. DISCLAIMER: This is a work of smutty fiction and should not be construed as anything other than smutty fiction. This is not a how-to guide on BDSM, bondage, or relationships. The author does not claim to be an expert on anything kink related and urges interested parties to be smart, be safe, and do their own independent research on the topic.

He knelt down again, his eyes level with her lower lips. He stared at her pussy, remembering how she’d tasted, how she’d felt as she came on his fingers and mouth. He glanced up at her. “Babe, I can’t wait to go down on you again.” He pressed a kiss to her mound, his tongue darting out to give her a teasing lick as he pulled back. “You’re so damn hot, you know that?” “Uh,” she gasped as his fingers slid inside. “Please, Luke…” “Please?” he said, his thumb massaging her throbbing clit even as his fingers moved in and out of her. “Please what?” “Please…” She threw her head back, tried to keep standing. God, the man was going to kill her. “Please go down on me again.” **** Nine weeks ago, Selena Perez chose survival, and paid for it with her breasts. The double mastectomy saved her life, but shattered her sense of femininity. She doesn’t want desire, romance, or complications... especially not from a dark, dangerous man who looks at her like she’s still whole. Luke Rhodes lost his left hand in Afghanistan three years ago. He doesn’t dwell on it. He cooks, he bartends, he lives his life. He has almost everything he wants – except Selena. And wanting her isn’t casual. It’s consuming. Their connection ignites fast and deep, catching them both off guard. Selena gives Luke her body, and her fragile trust. What she doesn’t know is that Luke is hiding someone from her. A secret that threatens to destroy everything she’s begun to believe about him… and herself.

"I need you to fuck me," she sighs. "But we both know that's not happening." If she keeps this up, I might just change my mind. I'm really close to violating my terms and taking her right here. "Sunshine, I'm not going to fuck you right now and you know it," I answer. "I'm going to fuck you all the way to the moon and back in due time, just not now." As if to persuade me, her hand cups my erect cock, and I turn my head to groan. The towel is barely hiding it at this point. Frankly, I'm surprised it hasn't fallen from around my waist. I desperately want her to feel it, to hold it, to lick it, to kiss it, to suck it. She keeps this up, she'll at least get to do two out of the five things. Elias Ford Vance Dabney-Aparo has never been the relationship type. Building a multi-billion-dollar hotel empire left little room for love—or for anyone who could keep up with his pace. But a routine visit to one of his properties turns anything but routine when he meets Cora Eldredge, a housekeeper and part-time model trying to find her footing in a world that keeps underestimating her. Cora’s always felt like an outsider, even at the hotel her uncle manages. But one unexpected encounter with Elias changes everything. He’s older, polished, and completely out of her league—and yet, when he looks at her, she feels seen for the first time. The spark between them is undeniable, but so are the complications: their worlds don’t mix, and the age gap isn’t small. Still, what they’ve found feels real—something warmer than either of them expected. Can they bridge the distance between status and circumstance… or will they both walk away before love has the chance to begin?

Domenico Pietro de Cerintti, in the eyes of everyone was the good boy, the sacrificial lamb, the one who attended all the classes and obeyed all the rules, the one who would not let a puppy get run over by a car, the one who didn't have a girl in his bed every Friday night, the one who didn't smirk, the one who girls liked but never wanted, the one who girls used and dumped, the one who wasn't badass. He lived with that image, was content with it even with the bullying until a certain day when they crossed the line, the one line they were never to cross. He disappeared. And appeared months later, in college; the college that had a good percent of his highschool student in attendance; changed, for the worse. Rosetta D'armani, one of his mates in highschool and now his mate in college, who never bullied him but who also never saved him from the bullies. She was, as defined by the male folk, hot, sexy, drool worthy. She saw him on his first day back and lusted after him. She followed him, sought after him, chased after him with every breath in her. He made her lick his heels. After all he was badass now. He smirked now, he had girls in his bed not only every Friday night but every night, the girls wanted him, he used and dumped them now, he was badass. But oh...those bullies didn't know his definition of badass. Badass for him meant revenge. He would revenge on each one of them including his beloved girlfriend. He'd show them just how hot badass burned. One mysterious girl, one desperate girl, one perfect girl and one revengeful boy. ???

I was drawn to the young man on the large bed as I walk into his room. A deadly gorgeous man probably in his late 20s. With my legs shaking, I slowly walk closer but end up slumping on the floor. I can't believe my family did this to me. Especially, my father, he turned his back on his only daughter. He got me married to a dying man all because of money! I stood up again and lean my face closer to his, indeed, he is a gorgeous man. If he were to be perfectly fit, any woman would lick the floor he walk on. I can't help but imagine if he were not to be in this state, would I have still become his wife? I don't think so. **** "You're nothing but a pawn in my game, don't you dare expect anything from me. I had to play along so I can get my wealth back from you" She felt betrayed. She thought he liked her considering how he has been treating her nicely in the past months. She thought every action of his was genuine not until she overheard William’s conversation with his friends. After the confrontation, William completely changed and become so cold toward Seren. She was so devastated, she couldn't believe she was used by the man she was deeply in love. She couldn't believe he turned out to be after nothing but revenge. Several nights, he brought home different girls just to torture her, she isn't allowed to look at any other man with her beautiful gaze. She isn't allowed to talk to any man, she isn't allowed to get closer to any man. He claimed her as his but, wouldn't give her the love, respect, and care that she deserves.

Seeing him lick my juice off his hands turned me on so bad I wished I was the one he ate with so much passion. “Tell me Princess, what next did I do?” His voice sounded way too calm for someone who just raised my heart rate. I looked at him—his blue eyes staring into my soul, my juice made his lips shine. “You ate me out,” I cooed. He looked at me with a dark smile. “I have been hungry, maybe it’s time to eat then.” He planted a kiss on her lips and I could taste myself—I loved how I tasted good. He broke the kiss then took the other free tit into his mouth and sucked like his life depended on it. His mouth found me, hot and eager, licking my pussy with a hungry groan that made me shake. His tongue moved slowly at first, tasting me, circling my clit until I was trembling. He sucked gently, then harder. ********** When love turns toxic, desperation takes over. Imogen's marriage to wealthy Perry was supposed to be a fairytale, but behind the glamour, she's suffocating. Caught in a web of lies and infidelity, Imogen's last hope is a romantic trip to Rome. But when she catches Perry cheating, her world crashes down. Enter Silas Moretti - mysterious, charming, and passionate. As Imogen's secret affair with Silas ignites, she finds herself trapped between two worlds: one of luxury and lies, the other of forbidden desire and danger. When murder entwines their lives, Perry becomes the prime suspect. Imogen's dark secrets surface, and Silas promises to help. But as their romance intensifies, Imogen realizes she may have traded one cage for another. Will she escape the deadly trap of her own making, or will her quest for revenge consume her?

Warning – 18+ Only This story is full of raw passion, steamy romance, and tantalizing tension. By turning these pages, you confirm you are 18 or older and ready to be seduced by a world of pleasure, desire, and temptation. Read responsibly… welcome to an erotic world. He touched her in ways she didn’t understand but craved. Every movement, every kiss, every whisper made her shiver. His hands slid down her gown and tore off her panties. Spreading her legs as his face went straight to her pussy like he was starving. And goodness, that was just the beginning His tongue hit her like a rocket She screamed like a slut… She never knew she could scream like that. She had never been with anyone like him. She didn’t know what she was doing… but somehow, that didn’t matter. He took control, and she allowed him to. His tongue didn't just lick, it devoured her pussy, slowly and deep. Like he was memorizing every part of her body. “Fuck..” She cried her nails dug deep into the leather seat of the car, her legs shaking as he spread them wider shoving his two fingers into her without hesitation. After a brutal breakup that left her questioning her worth, Isabella Hart swore she’d never let another man make her feel small again. Her ex’s final words still echoed in her head... that she couldn’t satisfy him, that she didn’t even know what real pleasure was. So when a night out to forget turns into something wild, reckless, and unforgettable, Izzy doesn’t think... she just feels. One stranger. One night. One taste of what it means to lose control. He was dominant, commanding, intoxicating… and she never even got his name.

When I was seven years old, my younger brother went into anaphylactic shock after sneaking a handful of peanuts. Outside the emergency room, my mother slammed my head against the wall over and over, her face twisted with rage. "If you had been watching him like you were supposed to be, this never would have happened! You should be the one with a ruptured stomach, not him!" After that, whenever my brother so much as caught a cold, my mother forced me to eat spoiled leftovers as punishment. I once prepared an elaborate feast. She flipped the entire table and made me crawl on the floor to lick it clean. When I said I wanted to study culinary arts, she poured hot oil over my hands. My father wanted to send me to vocational school to learn a trade, but my mother clutched my brother to her chest and wailed. "She destroyed her brother's health! She owes him a lifetime of service!" When I was fifteen, my brother's gluttony cost my father an important business deal. I took the blame without even being asked, and the furious client forced me to drink more than half a gallon of hard liquor. By the time I was sent home with a bleeding stomach, my father had already scolded my brother. My mother took out her anger on me instead, slapping me so hard my ears rang and my vision went dark at the edges. "You useless thing! You should’ve choked to death at that table! I get sick just looking at you!" I coughed up black blood. From my pocket, I pulled out a piece of sour candy that had gone soft and sticky. It was the only treat my mother had ever given me with a smile, back before my brother's allergic reaction. I put the candy in my mouth and swallowed it down with the taste of stomach acid. The candy was so sour it made my throat burn. Whatever came next, I just hoped I would not have to be my family’s garbage disposal again.

In my past life, Killian cut off all his mistresses and spoiled me rotten, doing everything to win my hand in marriage. But the day before our wedding, I overheard him boasting to his friends. "Killian, that orphan girl you supported is still clinging to you. She's younger and prettier than your fiancée. Are you really not tempted?" Killian curled his lip in disdain, "What is she even? She isn't even fit to lick my wife's toes. Tell her to get lost." His words sent a rush of euphoria through me. He had told me himself that financing Vivienne Moore was merely a strategic move to bolster my charity foundation. At that moment, I truly believed I had found my happily ever after. But on the wedding day, the orphan girl drove her car straight into me. She sobbed and pulled out a terminal diagnosis. "Killian, I don't have much time left. I beg you. Don't abandon me, please!" I got injured in a collision and pleaded with Killian to take me to the hospital first, but he scooped her up in his arms without a second glance. "Sierra, I need to take Vivienne abroad for medical treatment. If I were her husband, it would be way easier for me to get stuff done. We have to get a divorce first. I’m sorry.” I stared at him, my eyes widening in sheer shock. He kept going, his voice stead, “I promise I'll come back and marry you in five years. Just wait for me.” Five years turned into ten, and I waited for him in vain, nothing more than a fool. It wasn't until I was on my deathbed that I received his letter, "I'm sorry, Sierra. I'll marry you in the next life." I tore the letter to shreds and died of sheer rage. Yet, when I opened my eyes again, I was back on my wedding day. I calmly gazed after Killian as they faded into the throng. Then, without hesitation, I turned around and boarded a plane to Switzerland.