Naughty Poetry Novels & Stories

It sort of was. “But it’s poetry,” Brown-hair whined. “Poetry’s gay.” It was long practice at keeping my face still that kept me from raising my eyebrows. Poetry was anything but gay, but it was something straight men were apparently allergic to. Ridiculous. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Blonde said darkly. “There’s nothing wrong with being gay—but there is something wrong with being an asshole.” From the blink Brown-hair gave her, he didn’t get it. “Of course it’s okay to be gay,” he said, clearly missing the point. “But poetry is—ouch!”

"Yes. Except the day I was really horny, dad and mom were in the room, they were everywhere, I couldn't go close to you that day, if they leave the sitting room and I want to tell you am horny, they will appear all of a sudden. If we enter the kitchen, they will be there. I entered your room but they were there, checking the painting on the wall, contemplating on changing it. I angrily entered my room and messaged you to come to my room but dad was annoying, when you entered my room and we were about to make love, dad knocked the door, telling us he wanted to check the designs and painting in my room, if it was necessary to change it, I was mad, I was so frustrated that day that I dragged yo

After the interrogation that day, fuck had a grown woman like me craving, but since there was no cock around and no vibrator, I had to use my fingers to oh yeah that's the spot. When I was done with the masturbation, just then on my phone, a notification beeped in on my Facebook. It didn't seem like me receiving my porn, instead, it was a poem from someone with no profile picture or picture on his wall. His username says Mr Romantic and his poem read, I can never look at a drop of dew in a buttercup without beholding shafts of love in the retreats of your eyes In you there is unity; your face and form is a blend of perfect line and contour

Now he's being naughty. *********************The End********************

“I tried… but it felt too good. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. You're just so good and your fingers were hitting the right spot and I just… exploded.” He smirked, but his eyes were dark with control. “You're one little slut.” He looked at me. “You're a bad girl and bad girls get punished.” My heart raced immediately. Part of me was scared. Another part was so excited, that I could barely even breathe. He turned me around and bent me over his desk again. My breasts pressed on the wet papers and then he kicked my legs apart wider. “Count,” he said. Immediately his hand landed hard hard on my ass.

To him, it seemed like I was pretending—because in his eyes, someone surrounded by that much wealth had no reason to hold back. Whenever this topic came up, I would always say, "Darling, my standard of living is already higher than most people's. I don't yearn for material things, so wouldn't it be better to use the extra money for charity?" With unwavering conviction, I would continue, "Comparing ourselves to others only poisons the soul. It's a meaningless pursuit. When we have children one day, we should set a better example for them." But with every word, a restless desire would grow in Blake's heart. The more he loved me, the more fiercely he felt the urge to tear it all down.

"Oh Santa Naughty girls get pricks not sticks. Long hard pricks." She could feel her nipples getting harder and harder as he rolled them with his thumb and massaged with taunt stroking circular pressure. Her pussy was dripping in her panties. "My naughty pussy is feeling very naughty and wet." "I love naughty wet pussy." Chris replied as he imagined the deep red darkness of her panties soaked with her creaminess. He could see the hungry lust in her eyes as she continued her locked eye focus on his cock. "Would you like a candy cane little girl?"

John’s body pressed against my back, solid and warm. His breath tickled my ear as his fingers guided mine over my panties. I could feel how hard he was, pressed right against my ass through his jeans. My heart raced so fast I felt dizzy. “You were hoping I’d come, weren’t you?” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Still staring at my window even after I climbed over here. Naughty girl.” I shivered. “John, this is crazy. Someone could see us.”

Pedro had Kim on her knees by the bed, he still had his hand locked in her red hair. "Hey chica take my big cock out and suck it" She never moved. Pedro jerked her head up saying in a nasty voice "you do what I tell you puta or I get a knife from the keetcin and cut your teatas off." Kim was scared but trying not to show it, she looked into the ugly twisted face of Pedro and knew he would enjoy doing it. She reached a trembling hand to his pants.

"Twinkling spoons in a teapot's dream, Jellyfish waltz in a cosmic stream. Pickles hummed a secret rhyme, Moonbeams whispered cheese and thyme. Penguins danced on rainbow clouds, Unicorn whispers in mushroom crowds. Bananas wore polka dot shoes, Stars played chess, swapping hues. Toasters sang opera in the key of green, Elephants tap-danced on a trampoline. Butterflies knitted socks for the moon, Balloons recited a backwards cartoon. In a world where logic takes a break, Nonsense reigns, a merry mindquake. A symphony of chaos, oh what a treat, In this realm of whimsy, where absurdities meet." The smile on her face was oddly serene as she sang, her eyes gleaming with an enigmatic gleam. The w