Married Erotica Novels & Stories

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.

It's as if she was talking to a brick wall. After a while she stopped crying, she already felt her hymen break. She was no longer a virgin so why the stress? Charlie had her the way he wanted. Being the kind of womanizer he was, 30 minutes sex doesn't even satisfy him. So he continued drilling her until he got really exhausted or should we say the alcohol using him that time got satisfied. By the time he stopped, it was already 12:34am the next day. When he finally pulled out of her she has lost her strength and senses.

You must read, so you'll know what we know. Loving books as she did, Madeleine had soon forgotten her disappointment. The private library was a wondrous hoard of knowledge, and as arousing in its way as the long, shared hours of yesterday. Each book was a classic of pornography. As she read — and read and read and read - Madeleine soon grew both learned and fevered. Every picture seemed to remind her of the touch of Delrina’s lips, or the way Laurelina’s fingertips could seek out, and find, the most discreet and receptive of pleasure-nodes, then tantalise them to the very edge of madness. Every line or paragraph of uncensored prose seemed to conjure up the taste of Nadia’s sweat.

I cried out, my fingers tangling in his dark hair. He pushed me back onto the cot, his body covering mine. The weight of him, the heat, was everything I’d dreamed of. His hands were everywhere—kneading my breasts, sliding down my ribs, over my hips. He hooked his fingers into the waist of my simple cotton underwear and tore them down my legs. The sound of the fabric ripping was the most erotic thing I’d ever heard. Then his hand was there. Between my legs. On my pussy. A big, rough-skinned palm cupping me, his middle finger sliding through the wetness I couldn’t control.

I had soaked the sheets down to the mattress. The faintest grin crossed Nathan’s face. “You need some kind of pleasure in your life. I can’t give it to you. Not like this. Remember all the fun we used to have? All the sexy shit we used to do.” A shiver ran down my spine as I thought about Nathan in healthier times. Our love life had never been an issue. No matter how broken we were, or how petty the argument, our sex life was something that never suffered. Sometimes we would fight over the smallest of things just to end up fucking like rabbits. It was a miracle I didn't get pregnant.

I rolled onto my right side, facing the wall, and reminded myself again that watching isn't wanting. I've read a lot of erotica -- no surprise there. How many times does the male character end up snuggled against the female, his hand holding her tit and his boner against her ass? It's comical, right? I woke up some time later. The abundant moonlight that had illuminated Melody and Deuce the other night filled the room.

He stood between her thighs, his eyes locked on hers, a mix of hunger and dominance in his gaze. With a swift, aggressive movement, he positioned himself at her entrance, his lengthy dick pressing against her wetness. "Please, Daddy," Bianca moaned, her voice a breathy whisper. "Fuck me and tpear my pussy apart." Dr. Kendrick didn't hesitate, he entered her, filling her wet pussy completely. Bianca screamed, her back arching off the table as he hit that spot deep inside her that made her see stars. "Oh god, yes! Please, ohhh my pussy tear it Daddy, don't have mercy on me!"

We stood beside the bed while Marcus explained the scene. “Start with kissing and undressing each other. Lots of touching. Then oral both ways. Then penetration, you can start with missionary first, then doggy if you both want. Talk dirty if it feels natural. Make it real and the goal is to enjoy it, not perform perfectly.” Jake turned to me. “You still okay with me?” I nodded, cheeks warm. “Yes. I want this.” Marcus gave the signal. The cameras started rolling. The red lights blinked on.

And then he drove into her. Lyriamme screamed as he filled her, a deep, stretching, perfect fullness that shattered the last of her control. The aphrodisiacs made every nerve ending scream with sensitivity. She could feel every inch of him, every pulse of the veins along his shaft, the impossible heat of him buried deep inside her. It was more than sex; it was a consummation.

“I’ve had my eyes on you for months. I didn’t know how to say it. You’re beautiful, smart, and so fucking tempting sitting there in my class, answering questions with that sweet voice. I wanted you so badly, but I’m your professor. It felt wrong… until I couldn’t fight it anymore.” His hand stayed between them, fingers rubbing her clit while his thick cock slid in and out of her in long, romantic strokes. “I’ve been jerking off every single night just looking at your videos,” he confessed, voice rough with lust. “Watching you dance, seeing your body move… it drove me crazy. I came thinking about filling this tight little pussy.” Elena moaned louder, her hips rocking to meet his thrusts. The