Nasty Stories Novels & Stories

The woman retorted with a sarcastic chuckle. "Really? Well, keep dreaming that," Bienley said, giving the girls the same sarcastic chuckle, which sparked another outrage. "You know what, I'm not gay, and whenever a girl catches my eye, my dick usually goes wild. But looking at all of you, I'd rather fuck a lamppost." Bienley casually continued, boldly staring at their chests and the short skirts they were wearing. "Have you heard about the Casanova?" After receiving no response from the tongue-tied girls, he went on.

It was obvious from the way they looked at me, wondering what laid beneath my modest outfits. Caleb Harlan, the camp's most popular badboy. He moved about with that smirk he wore on his face, one that said he heard every sermon on temptation but was till hell bent on being a tempter. Caleb was the guy smuggling in candy bars that tasted like forbidden heaven, telling ghost stories that caused the little ones to shiver in fear and flirting like it was his job.

I cared about the way his eyes flared when he saw my black lace bra straining against my skin. "I knew it," he hissed, his voice thick with a dark kind of satisfaction. "Underneath the spreadsheets and the polite smiles, you’ve been hiding this for me." He grabbed my waist and lifted me, sitting me squarely on the edge of the mahogany desk. I felt the cold surface against my skin, a stark contrast to the blistering heat radiating off him. He moved back in between my legs, his heavy weight pinning me down as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. He didn't nibble; he bit. A sharp, stinging mark that I knew would turn purple by morning. I let out a jagged cry, my fingers digging into his

Agreeing to hit the local bars first and then call further into town to experience the authentic Russian night-life, we’re all buzzing about what the city has to offer. As I change out of my travel clothes, I hear the muffled noise of my friends giggle and chat. I put the TV on and prepare myself a quick cup of coffee. Clutching the remote, as I begin to unpack my suitcase, I scan through the channels: News…Shopping…Cooking…News…P**N. My eyes widen as I pause on the rude channel. It costs ten dollars to unlock the naughty movies on demand. Now, some people may think p**n is just for men but I beg to differ—I love a good p**no film, especially if the guy is super-fit.

*********** Story Titles 365 Nights of Sin Professor beg for cock Double Life, Double Penetration Used by the Boss Stuffed & Stretched: An Asshole Made for His Pleasure Drowning in Raw Desire: A Gangbang at the Penthouse The Gauntlet: One Woman, Five Cocks, No Mercy Total Objectification: The Pussy That Never Says No Gagged & Taken: The Reality of Her Dirty Fantasies Deep Throat Devotion Stretching Her Limits: A Threesome for the Boss’s Wife Used and Abused: My Best Friend’s Massive Cock The Office Gangbang: Four Cocks, One Pussy, No Regrets The Double-Team: Getting Stuffed From Both Ends Her Father’s Enemy: An Affair Paid for in Orgasm Drenched in Semen: The Aftermath of the Gangbang Total

"I didn't fail. I just... I have to do some extra credit work for him. Filing papers. Organizing his life. It's boring." "Boring?" Cleo raised an eyebrow, exhaling a puff of smoke. "You were at his house last night? The mysterious fortress on the hill?" I widened my eyes. "How do you know where he lives?" "Honey, everyone knows where he lives," Cleo laughed. "We just didn't know you were invited. Was it dark? Gloomy? Did he have a dungeon?" "No dungeon," I lied, thinking of the locked door. "Just a lot of books and a very expensive whiskey collection."

I dived into my bed with the magazine. “Just what I needed.” I muttered, I was very horny, but I tried to fight the thoughts that were coming to my mind, but the magazine in front of me wasn't helping matters. "Fuck it," I muttered, carefully scanning the magazine. It was a sex and foreplay guide. My eyes nearly popped off at the next picture. A man was sucking off the breasts of a woman who was obviously enjoying herself. I felt a rush to my pussy. I instantly knew had to do this before I completely lost my mind.

I was the picture of a proper pastor’s wife. A devoted mother to our two young children. A respected psychologist who listened to women pour out their darkest traumas every day at work. And now, a devoted Christian woman who had always believed in purity and submission. But tonight those beliefs were cracking. For months the stories from my clients had seeped into my mind like warm poison. Day after day I sat across from women who told me about rough hands pinning them down, about cocks slamming into their unwilling bodies, about the dark pleasure that came from being completely used.

Feels strange being home again. Jack launched into a story about work and some deal they were both involved in. I sat on the opposite end of the couch from Richard and tried to look interested. My body had other plans. Every time he shifted I noticed the way his trousers pulled across his thighs. Every time he spoke I watched his mouth. I kept thinking about those same lips between my legs. About his fingers sliding under this dress and finding out how wet I already was just from sitting in the same room as him.

"What's more, you know, likeliest result is you'll arrive and they'll say, 'Eh, you're OK, however not our somewhat young lady'. What's more, you'll squander like an entire year mooching around France, scarcely making due with strip clubs and leader bistros." Lannie remained quiet through the talk, watching Mollie's jaw move as the Scot talked. When the hand comes up, she took the young lady's fingers and pulled them away, shoulders drooping. A piece of her needed to holler at the blonde. It was exactly the same thing every other person had told her. Her folks attempted to frighten her with accounts of certain man-eaters who jumped at the chance to eat the skin off adolescent young ladies wh