Morning Sex Stories Novels & Stories

My legs trembled, but he didn’t stop, thrusting faster, his breath hot and ragged against my ear. “Goddamn, you’re so wet,” he grunted, his hands bruising my hips. He kept going, his cock sliding in and out, slick with my juices, and I knew he was close, his thrusts getting harder, more desperate. The room smelled like sex, the couch creaking under us, and I never wanted it to end.

The manor’s chamber glowed with the soft flicker of renewed candles, the velvet curtains swaying slightly in the draft, the air heavy with the musk of our earlier passion. My body lay sprawled on the mat, cum and sweat coating my skin, pussy and ass aching with a delicious soreness, my mind reeling from the Coven’s initiation. The women surrounded me, their robes and lingerie disheveled, eyes glinting with a renewed hunger, ready to deepen the bond forged in the night’s shadows. The thrill of their collective dominance, the taboo of this sacred orgy, pulsed through me, my clit throbbing despite the exhaustion, a testament to the insatiable desire they’d awakened.

"Alright fellas. Let's get on to business. First question is, when was the first time you had sex?" Jax leaned backwards, his hand working his spit slick phallus. "Shit!! I was like 16. A neighbour's 17 year old daughter snuck me into her dad's garage. I was a horny kid then, bent her over a workbench. I came in two minutes tops but she squirted all over my balls."

The flames crackled warmly as night fully settled in. Mom and Dad told old family stories, laughing and roasting marshmallows. I sat across from Damon, pretending to listen, but my eyes kept drifting to him. The way the firelight danced across his sharp jaw, the way his shirt stretched over his chest… all I could think about was getting fucked. Nothing more. My pussy was aching, clenching rhythmically, dripping so much I was sure the insides of my thighs were slick.

Noah gently rolled me onto my back and spread my legs wide. My pussy was still swollen and creamy from the night’s abuse. He pushed inside me slowly at first, savoring the sloppy warmth, then started fucking me with steady, deep strokes. At the same time, Lucas lifted my head and slid his cock back into my mouth, fucking my throat with lazy morning thrusts. Ethan and Mason took turns playing with my cum-covered tits, sucking on my sensitive nipples and slapping my breasts lightly while the others used my lower holes. The morning sex felt different — slower at first, more deliberate, but no less filthy.

“While Mom and Dad sleep right down the hall. You’re gonna fall asleep every night with my cum leaking out of you.” I came twice like that—once from his cock alone, once when he reached around and rubbed my clit while pounding me into the mattress. He followed with a guttural groan, pumping another thick load deep into my pussy until it overflowed and soaked my sheets. We didn’t sleep much. Around 3 a.m. he woke me by sliding into me from behind while we spooned. Slow, lazy morning-sex fucking that turned rough when I started pushing back against him. He finished by pulling my hair and breeding me again, whispering how my pussy was now his personal cumdump.

Claire started laughing. "If you get pregnant you'll understand what I'm going through." I rolled my eyes at her. "Did you know that it is safe for most pregnant women to have sex? You have a delicate pregnancy and almost had a miscarriage twice so that's the only reason you can't have sex." Claire replied. "You are special." "Ladies, please stop talking about sex." James butted. "We're eating breakfast." "Are you not getting any?" I replied playfully. "Morning sex is the best way to start your day in a positive way."

She licked the sweat from his throat and promised worse. The obsession sharpened in every city. Budapest: sex in the shadowed alley behind the opera house minutes before curtain, his hand over her mouth, strangers twenty feet away. Amsterdam: a midnight canal boat where he bent her over the rail and fucked her while tourists drifted past on another boat, close enough to touch. Barcelona: he tied her spread-eagle to the bedposts with the silk sashes from hotel robes and used a wand on her clit until she was speaking in tongues, then flipped her over and took her ass until she blacked out for three blissful seconds.

Evenings: strategy sessions over wine, debates turning heated, resolved in bed. Night one: Tension high. We sparred—fists flying, bodies colliding. He pinned me, breath mingling. "Yield?" I hooked a leg, flipping him. "Make me." We did—on the mat, sweaty and primal. Him behind me, thrusting deep, hand in my hair. "Mine." Night two: Scout run. Docks at dusk, disguised as joggers. Fog rolled in, hiding us. Back home, adrenaline buzzing. Shower sex—water hot, his mouth on my breasts, fingers inside until I screamed.

I didn’t mind it and I just continued fucking her ass, I alsi didn’t remove the vibrator in her pussy. When I could feel that I was near of my release, I withdrew then spilled my semen on her ass. “Fuck! So tight. Damn.” I fucked her in the balcony after that intense sex in the kitchen, and in the basement, in my car, and even in the main bathroom. We didn’t stop throughout the night. Even when the sun has already risen, I wasn’t still satisfied. So I fucked her again afrer breakfast, before lunch, after lunch, while we watched a movie, and another more rounds in the night.