Make Up Sex Stories Novels & Stories

Cristina's POV. "Ahhh, Mmmm." A loud gasp came from the other side of the door, followed by rasped heavy breathing. That was exactly what I needed. Heat bloomed low in my core as I shoved the door open. The scene before me was like something out of my wildest fantasies and my nipples hardened under the tight leather gown I'd thrown on. In a corner was a woman, her legs spread far apart. One man pumped his fingers in and out of her wet cunt, making her quiver beneath him while another guy fucked her throat hard, slamming against her again and again as his groans escaped his mouth.

) — Fucking in every corner of the house (bar, pool/pool table, bathtub, on top of the washing machine, etc. — Food play (whipped cream, chocolate etc.) — Try edging/orgasm denial. — Exciting quickies. _ Slow morning sex. — Sexting/nudes — Have sex in another city/city/country. — Argument sex. — Makeup sex. The list goes on for pages and pages. * I whistle excitedly. I had no idea she has these freaky ideas stored in her head. I’ve never been the kind to enjoy homework but this is the kind of assignment I can take on. By the time I'm done making these come to life, she'd never think of Elliot ever again!

NEW STORY TITLE: THE GIFT OF DICK AND PUSSY The following story will be told in multiple chapters. There's oodles and oodles of sex in it, even though it's not just a pure spank story. If lots of nasty sex isn't your thing, then why are you on this website? Weirdo.

I was all ears, I was ready to get hit with a dose of mischief. “It means make up sex, the greatest sex to ever exist! You're going to be smiling and drooling in ecstasy by the time you're done. I'm happy for you, I'm happy for this, babes.” Closing my eyes in mock horror, I groaned, trying my best to sound irritated and annoyed.

For three years, my husband and I had lived apart because of our long-distance relationship. Then I landed a bridal makeup job in the city where he often stayed for work. I planned to surprise him after I finished the job, but three days before the wedding, I sprained my wrist. I explained the situation to my client and offered her a full refund, but she refused. "Everyone only gets one special day like this in their life, Felicia! I want my husband to see me at my prettiest on the most important day of our lives! I don't wanna be anything less for him..." I couldn't convince her otherwise, so I decided to bring my apprentice, Dakota McCree, to apply the makeup while I guided her. Then I

I panted heavily. He stilled his movements, then looked up to give me a wolfish smile. "No, you don't." Marcello moved my panties aside, plunging two fingers straight inside me, kissing my lips to stop me from crying out. I hadn't had sex in over two years, so I was tight as fuck. He didn't care as he kept moving in and out of me, his thumb stimulating my clit. He was right. How could I hate someone who gave me this kind of pleasure? "Marc… more." I breathed out.

Sigh. I remembered my boss, who was 50 years old, once said, "Your photographs are the best, but you should know that this company specializes in magazines for men. And your shots are just lacking...lust. You should put your lustful soul into your work to shoot a photo that will arouse our readers." How can I develop a lustful soul if I lack experience, right? I'd been getting too depressed and stressed out thinking about how to acquire that lustful soul. And I think the only way was to have sex with a man.

You have to claim them. When he’d gone, because I wasn’t finished yet, I lay on the rumpled bed, and brought myself off with my fingers. I thought of how he’d behaved earlier, sadistic and cruel, reveling in my cries from the pinch of the clamps and the slam of his cock. Then I fell asleep for an hour or so. When I woke, my hair was in a crazy, damp tangle and my breasts were a mess of scratch marks and blotches. And he was probably eating wild turbot because he usually does when it’s on expenses at Saxby’s. I would too. The point I’m making: sex isn’t like it is in the movies; it isn’t even like porn. Sex isn’t like anything except itself.

I say. He rolls off the bed to rifle through his duffel and reappears quickly, tossing condoms onto the bedside table and ripping a foil open with his teeth. “Don’t read anything into it,” he commands, probably seeing the question on my face of why so many condoms. “It’s just something I’ve always done. Over-prepared and all that.” I grin. “I’m a fan of being prepared.”

Jake made me lie on my back with my legs up and pushed two fingers into my pussy, fucking their mixed loads back inside me. “Keep it in there,” he ordered. “We want it to take.” I was shaking. My body was exhausted. But I was also more turned on than I had ever been in my life. They stayed for hours after that. They made me clean their cocks with my mouth. They fucked my ass again while my pussy leaked cum. They took turns pissing on my tits and in my mouth while I knelt in the shower. They recorded videos of me begging them to breed me.