Medieval Erotica Novels & Stories

The assigned text, Bataille’s Erotism, was a descent into philosophical darkness. It spoke of the sacred and the profane, of violence as a gateway to ecstasy, of transgression as a necessary rupture of the mundane world. Elara read it in her small apartment, her body still sore and marked from the last session, the words resonating in her bones. She understood, now, that her thesis was not merely an academic exercise. It was a lived experience, a mapping of her own violation and transcendence.

The chat went wild, replaying that line: ‘Are you completely insane? Okay, I was out of tricks. I’m just a flimsy, pitiful, helpless erotica heroine. No sudden superhuman survival skills kicking in at the eleventh hour. I threw up my hands. No point fighting it anymore. “You don’t believe me? Fine. Ask him yourself later. Let’s see…” I pretended to think. “Why don’t you start with… ‘Did she kiss you yesterday?’ How about that?” Right then, the system chimed in again.

I moaned, biting down on my lip when his fingers slid over my folds—slow, taunting, sinful. "I couldn't stop thinking about you," I whispered, pressing my hips into his touch. "I needed..." "You needed me to make you come," he finished for me, his voice dark and breathless. "You needed to sin again." And I did. God help me—I did. "Be a good girl," he murmured. "And on your knees." My hands trembled slightly as I steadied myself, head bowed, breath uneven. I could hear the faint hum of prayer from the main hall, voices rising in unity, unaware of the blasphemy happening behind the booth.

“Always.” Erotica 2.

Isolde followed soon after, moaning low and grinding through the pleasure. They rested briefly, bodies sticky and warm. Then they used toys. Isolde grabbed a vibrating wand from her bag. She turned it on and pressed the buzzing head against Seraphina's sensitive clit. The strong vibrations made Seraphina cry out. She tried to close her legs but Isolde held them open. She was just getting started. "Please," Seraphina begged after several minutes. "Fuck! It's too much." Isolde smiled. "Just a little longer." She kept the wand in place. Seraphina shook and came again, even harder. Her voice grew hoarse from moaning. Only then did Isolde turn it off and let her rest.

That caused my eyebrows to raise and my cheeks to blush. "Well... If you like that mix, maybe 'Story of O' by Pauline Réage, 'The Lover' by Marguerite Duras, 'Tropic of Cancer' by Henry Miller, or 'Delta of Venus' by Anaïs Nin could be recommended," I suggested, my face burning. These were considered significant works of erotic literature, but at the same time, they were quite scandalous. "Did you enjoy them?" he asked with a slightly huskier voice. "I like forming my own opinions."

I was still draped over Nick’s chest, limp and glowing, every muscle humming from the way they’d just wrecked me. Their cum leaked slowly and warmly down my thighs, thick and sticky, a filthy reminder of how thoroughly they’d claimed me on this throne. The fairy lights twinkled lazily above us, casting red and green shadows over sweat-slick skin, the grotto still heavy with the scent of sex and pine. Marcus’s fingers traced lazy, filthy circles on my inner thigh, teasing higher each time, brushing the sticky mess between my legs. When he grazed my swollen clit, I jolted with an oversensitive gasp, hips twitching.

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A painful bulge grew slowly between his thighs, followed by a pooling drool as his cock oozed precum even without being fully aroused. The client lowered himself to Jace’s level, his lips slightly brushing his earlobe while his hot breath hovered above a certain spot on his neck, slowly entrancing Jace. “You know…” he began, his voice deep and gravelly with sin and raw desire. “It’s the first time you’ve looked this long.” Then, he nibbled on his earlobe, blowing hot air into it as his firm grip held Jace in place. Jace’s cock twitched uncomfortably in his pants, his head turning light as the client threatened to drown him in pleasure.

I was so ready for this. But now what? Just blatantly put a move on him? I stared at his lap top and recalled Richard saying he caught him watching p**n. I looked over my shoulder to make sure Max wasn't already on his way back. I figured he would take his time and try to calm himself down and that was fine with me. I went into his history and scanned through the sites he visited. My eyes lit up on "My First Sex Teacher" and I clicked it. "Oh, you naughty boy." I whispered as I saw it was an entire site dedicated to teacher student fantasies, Richard hadn't been kidding.