Milf Seduction Novels & Stories

In the dark room, my husband's friend, Jason Laurier, keeps hugging me tightly. He completely ignores my acts of resistance as he keeps touching and kissing me. Only when I gasp out in pleasure does he murmur into my ear, "Let me help you…"

On a bunk bed that's installed in the back of the truck, my husband, Dylan Gallagher, kisses me passionately while groping me incessantly. "Honey, I'm definitely taking you with me to work all the time." I can only squirm awkwardly beneath him. "B-Be gentle with me, geez…" Then, I look in the direction of the top bunk, where a certain someone is spying on us from behind the bed…

"Coach, please stop. I came here to learn how to drive, not to have an affair." Inside the instructor's car, because I kept failing to control the clutch, Coach Reeves, who happened to be my husband's friend, made me sit on his lap to teach me. The problem was, I was wearing a short skirt that day, and underneath it, I wasn't even wearing safety shorts. Even worse, he actually pulled his member out and pressed it straight against me.

“I’m right here, so why are you using a toy? Come, let me satisfy you.” Keenly aware of the blue-collar men around me on the sleeper train, lust bubbled up in me. I was sweating so badly that my lingerie was drenched. I had no choice but to satisfy myself, but someone caught me in the act. An older man pulled my blanket aside and stared lustfully at me.

I'm a special kind of courier. Instead of packages, I transport beautiful women. I drop them off at designated locations and pick them up afterward. Each round trip earns me a thousand dollars. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my crush would climb into my car one day. What's more, she'd brought my sister along, saying they wanted to make some quick money together.

Initially, I think a little puppy wants to climb the social ladder with his good looks, but I later realize that his skills are… I blush in embarrassment when he asks me how I feel. Despite that, he doesn't let me off the hook. Instead, he keeps pushing me for an answer. "Do you like it, angel? You smell so good. You're so sweet and soft…"

A divine tree that is worshiped by many generations of people in my village grows on the tall mountain located on the village's west. Apparently, the divine tree loves being watered by women's lustful juices. In order to garner the blessings and protection from the divine tree, the village will pick out a woman to serve it every month. Since young maidens are shy and reserved by nature, the juices they secrete aren't enough to satisfy the divine tree. In that case, the village will be plagued by misfortune and disasters. Because of that, there are rumors saying that the divine tree prefers married women instead. All the married women in the village refuse to serve the divine tree. I, on the other hand, yearn to get picked out by the village every day. After all, I'm born to feel pleasure at its height. Unfortunately, my weak husband can never satisfy my urges.

I applied for a popular online job as a personal chef. I thought I'd be cooking simple, home-style meals, but I quickly found myself trapped in a world of surprises. The food they were craving was me, served on a platter. The wealthy women were looking for excitement, torturing me night after night. But what they didn't realize was, the real thrill came when the dogs turned on each other.

"Is this the life-like doll Paige got me as a Christmas present? Wow, it looks just like that beautiful best friend of hers…" My best friend's father mistakes me for the Christmas present she has prepared for him. Things start to heat up in the room. The man eagerly spreads my legs, ready to experience the scalp-crawling pleasure I can bring to him.

“No… I can’t… Uh… My body belongs to my husband…” At the gym, I hired a personal trainer to work on my glutes. To make sure I was training my hips right, I wore a pink mini skirt with a hint of my plain white underwear peeking out from underneath. As if I wasn’t sensitive enough, the personal trainer lifted my skirt and pressed against my thighs. I felt a tingling sensation coursing through my body. The personal trainer tugged down my damp underwear. “Are you getting an itch you can’t scratch? Let me help you there.”