Nasty Books Novels & Stories

I wаѕ, but not fоr thе rеаѕоn they thоught. THE END Thank you for joining me on this intense journey through Lost in Lust.️ If you enjoyed this story, I invite you to explore my other novel, “Wild Pleasure”️ A very sexual erotic novel. Nuzel.

I needed to cut her off. "Look, they're doing the walking around the fire thing." She said. I hummed non committal. "I read about it in this book by Drethi Anis. Five thousand nights of obsession. The book was so good." "You read?" I asked. I had never seen any book in her apartment or caught her with a book. "Yes." She blushed, then quietly. "Romance books." "You don't strike me as the romance type." I looked at her intently. "Is it one of those raunchy books with shirtless men carrying scabbards on the cover."

Curiosity was eating at her. With an effort, she made herself focus on the other titles. He had books on negotiating, battle tactics, history, agriculture…boring. Didn’t the man read any fiction? There was a book on stained glass that looked mildly interesting, but she kept scanning the shelves, hoping for something more enticing. Her search was rewarded. There, right in the middle of his shelves at eye level, was an entire shelf of books devoted to lovemaking. Wiley’s eyes boggled as she read the titles: An Illustrated Guide to the Sensual Arts. A Woman’s Climax. Emotional Need and the Sensual Virgin. There were dozens of titles.

Hey beautiful people, Just a warning. This book is an erotica, which means 18+, so if you are uncomfortable with sex and adult shit, please don’t read my books. But if you are a nymphomaniac like me, go ahead ;) Also guys, for the better understanding of the stories, I’d also like to give you the order in which the books should be read: 1)Nathaniel Lachlan 2)Aaron Riverwood 3)Landon Chambers 4) Emily Warner

She was about to run out of breath as she looked at his suddenly approaching handsome face. She took a step back, with the glass window behind her, there was nowhere to retreat. "These books aren't mine!" She defended. "And whose are they?" "I don't know..." Jeff opened one of the books, only to see men and women naked and folded over each other. Every part of their bodies could be seen. Especially the man's penis, the picture was very harsh. "Don't you like that too?" "Yes, I just like it. What's wrong?" Kourtney decided to answer honestly.

“Such a good little slut for your professor.” He spun her around and pressed her front against the shelves, the spines of old books digging into her heavy breasts. He flipped her skirt up, exposing her thick ass and already dripping pussy to the cool library air. “Anyone could walk by,” he whispered, spanking her hard enough to make her ass jiggle. “But you don’t care, do you? You want me to fuck you right here where we could get caught.” “Yes, Sir,” Ava whimpered, pushing back against him.

Hey beautiful people, Just a warning. This book is an erotica, which means 18+, so if you are uncomfortable with sex and adult stuff, please don’t read my books. But if you are a nymphomaniac like me, go ahead ;) Also guys, for the better understanding of the stories, I’d also like to give you the order in which the books should be read: 1)Nathaniel Lachlan 2)Aaron Riverwood 3)Landon Chambers 4)Danika Williams

And for almost as many years I had carried the same secret fantasy: being bent over one of these tables, skirt pushed up, mouth used until I couldn’t speak, while the rare books watched in silence. I never told anyone. I barely admitted it to myself in daylight. But after midnight, when the building belonged only to me, the fantasy sat closer to the surface. I shifted in my chair, thighs pressing together under the modest black skirt I always wore for work. The movement made the silk of my underwear brush against skin that was already too warm. I ignored it and turned another page. The soft click of the outer door lock made my head lift. Footsteps. Measured. Familiar.

This was Dante Moretti, and after the stunt I pulled downstairs, there was a huge chance the boxes contained my worst nightmare. Regardless, I dragged them inside, making a mental note to take another shower to wash off the fine beads of perspiration coating my skin. Whispering a quick prayer to whoever cared to listen, I picked up my face blade and opened up the first box. My breath caught in my throat. Before me were rows and columns of carefully arranged books, most of the covers bearing sweaty, half-naked men and women in different stages of copulation, and the ones that didn’t had dark covers with obscure details that were covert yet somehow let you know exactly what the book was about.

The study was dark, so I opened the blinds and took in the room. It was very... August. Brown. Black. More black. Not a single color brave enough to survive in here. There was a minibar. I wasn't surprised to find it stocked mostly with expensive whiskey. The bookshelf took up almost an entire wall. Business books. Finance books. Leadership books. Books about making money. Books about keeping money. Books about probably becoming even more unbearable than he already was. Not one novel. Not even a guilty pleasure romance. What a sad life.