Love And Sex Novels & Stories

“This would be much easier if I wasn’t afraid of sex.” “Sex can be a wonderful thing if done with the right person.” “You think?” I ask him sincerely. Talking with Caleb distracts me from the pain. “Sex is a way of showing your love to the person you are with. It is a way of showing how much they mean to you.” His hands caress my lower stomach. “If done with a person that loves you, it can make you feel pleasure like you never felt before.” His breath is warm on my skin. “I still feel filthy.”

I have all of it. That four letter word had never even crossed my mind. Not even once at all. And I have never prayed to feel it nor experience it. Love? I wanted to fucking laugh. Love is only for weak people. For powerless people. For stupid and idiotic people. The idea of love is too complicated that it is almost disgusting. No. It is disgusting. It irks me. The idea of love is stupid. Love does not exist. People tend to be mistaken lust to love. Love was only created by those delusional people. When they say that they are in love, they are most probably just horny. It is their pussy or dick talking, absolutely not their heart. Sex and money are what I identify as love.

"Allen, I am sorry, but I am not comfortable being here anymore..I want to go home and you are not making it happen. Leave my hand and let me leave, please! she said. "Are you sure you want me to let you go? Baby Doll, it was just a one time thing. It doesn't mean anything. Having a one night stand with you, made me feel again. I had thought that my heart was shut to women forever, and then you came out of nowhere and asked, if I wanted to have sex with you. I agreed, thinking you were joking and would probably back out at the last minute, but you didn't. Then you kissed me, and I didn't know what happened to me. You made me feel like I was the only man on earth. I felt so big when I was wit

he replied. I sighed. “Sexual pleasure and fulfillment, whether delivered through the use of fingers, tongues, objects, imaginative play, paddles, and collars, or simply through plain intercourse, may undoubtedly be purchased and sold, neither to mention utilized to market other products. Although the subject of whether sex should be available for purchase is debatable. However, love itself cannot be bought.” Zero let out a soft chuckle and let go of my hand. “You’re still young to know too much about love, Isla,” he uttered. I was hurt by it but I chooses to ignore it.

"That it strengthens love. I thought it was real because I never heard anyone say otherwise." "Love has nothing to do with sex." A mocking smirk tugged at his lips. "Sex is an instinct, a primal urge—whether for procreation or pleasure. Lust is one of its strongest motives… but lust isn’t love." I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing closer to his warmth. "Hypothetically," I began, "If one day you couldn't control yourself around me again… what would you do?"

The current me was undesirable for any man, and my heart ached terribly. Still, I could not understand why Reynold kept me around even though he did not love me. He could have just told me, and we would have divorced. Yet, not only did he take away my ability to have children, but he even cheated and betrayed me, In the end, I didn't visit the doctor. Instead, I went home alone. The mansion was the home Reynold and I purchased when we got married, back when his career was just starting to take off. I could still remember us lying in bed, talking about the future. We had dreamed of having two kids—a boy and a girl—a perfect family of four.

“How so?” “When you love the person, that feeling is enough. It doesn’t matter if you’re both not even moving. It’s so special and so big that it feels otherworldly. You can have sex with the greatest expert in the world. It’ll be great, sure, but speaking from experience, nothing quite tops having sex with someone you love. Someone who makes your heart beat faster when you look at them.” “Have you ever been in love?” I ask him as I crack a few eggs into a bowl.

It wasn’t necessary. It had been easily the best sex of my life. If Kaden didn’t feel the same, I didn’t want to know. What made it win by such a large margin was that it felt like so much more than just sex. It felt like we had made love. Even without the words being spoken, our bodies had done the talking for us. I read on Urban Dictionary once that making love was about the “us”. It was about connecting, exploring, building sexual tension together, and releasing that tension together. I remembered reading that making love was a strong, serious connection that couldn’t be faked.

It lives in the gentle curve of your smile, in the way your voice lowers when you speak to him, in how you stand just a little closer to his side than anyone else. You love him. But love alone does not make something right. You and John were never meant to share a life. Not because your hearts didn’t choose each other—they did. Not because the feelings aren’t real—they are. But because the life he carries is not a life meant for you.

This is real. It’s not just sex. It’s love. Twisted. Immoral. Doomed. But love, nonetheless. And I’m not letting it go. Ever.