Nice Sexy Story Novels & Stories

Sasha lowered her pussy onto Abegail’s waiting mouth. Abegail’s world narrowed to sensations. The weight of Sasha on her face, the taste of her on her tongue. The relentless, pounding drive of Kael’s cock splitting her open, hitting a spot deep inside that made her see stars. The slap of Leo’s balls against her chin. She was a vessel for their pleasure, and in turn, her own pleasure spiraled higher, coiling tighter than before.

The room was filled with the sound of my extremely wet pussy slamming against his dick over and over again. He’ll start up fast and hard, hitting every spot and I could swear he touched my womb, then he’ll take it slow, teasing me , making me feel every inch of his dick, making my body go numb. I’ve never been fucked this good before . “Do you like it?”, he whispered behind my ear, driving in slowly. “Yes”, I moaned out almost crying. “Yes what?” “Yes Mr Tom”. “Fuck i love the way you call me that, tell me how much you love it “.

‎Damon kept thrusting his thick and huge cock faster and deeper into my wet pussy to the point where I couldn't catch my breath between pumps. ‎He's such a good fucker... ‎**Author's Message** ‎Keep reading, I have more juicy, steamy stories for you that're going to make you get wet and horny🥵 Please drop your honest review on this chapter cause it would mean a lot to me. ‎Thanks 💯 ‎

And I had just been ruined by the man she called her soulmate. I closed my eyes, the ghost of his scent..cedar, sweat, and raw, masculine musk.. filling my senses. It was wrong. It was the dirtiest, most unforgivable thing I had ever done. But as I felt Kade’s heart beating against my back, slow and steady, I knew I would do it again. I realized then that this dirty little affair, this descent into madness and filth, had all started with one single, impossible moment. It had all started when I walked into this very room, silent and unsuspecting, and caught Kade…my sister’s perfect, untouchable husband..with his eyes closed and his nostrils flared, desperately sniffing my dirty underwear.

“What are you waiting for? Take what you’ve wanted. Use me like the filthy slut I am for you.” I flipped her onto her back on the couch, her dress pushed up to her waist. Her panties were black lace, soaked. I dragged them down her legs slowly, watching her pussy come into view, pink, wet, perfectly waxed. I love clean waxed pussy. The scent hit me: pure sex. Fuck, I buried my face between her thighs without warning. She cried out, fingers tangling in my hair. “Oh fuck…yes lick my pussy, baby. Taste how wet I am for you.”

She was looking over my shoulder at the same wall and reading some of them softly under her breath. “Hmmm, look at this one,” I said. “This person seems to have described our date last week in perfect detail.” It was a story about a woman who liked to be spanked and punished. “I like this one,” Carrie said, pointing to another. “I really think we should try and work this one into our next date.” The story was about a couple who arranged to act like strangers and meet up at a trashy bar and pick each other up. There were long descriptions about them fucking in the back of the bar as the guys playing pool watched and stroked their cues.

Pinky squinted to read it, her eyes tracing the loops and crosses. "Collection of short stories for ladies," the title read. "Stories of desire, of awakening, of the first time." Pinky blinked, her eyes widening as she read on. The handwriting was feminine, secretive, as if the writer were sharing her most guarded thoughts with only the pages. It was a confession. A revelation. As she began to read.

“I bet you’re even softer elsewhere, aren’t you? Wet and tight and aching for me.” Sandra’s knees nearly buckled. No one had ever talked to her like this, with such raw, unapologetic hunger. Her body responded instinctively, her hips arching forward, seeking friction, seeking more. Anya’s chuckle was low, triumphant, her hand sliding further up Sandra’s back, her fingers inching toward the clasp of her bra. “That’s it, baby,” she whispered, her lips brushing the shell of Sandra’s ear. “Let me hear how much you want this.”

I sip, then casually, though graciously, dismiss Simon. Once alone, Nikki takes her flute into my suite. With her other hand, she selects a non-descript black box from the gift bag that has no logo stamped on it to identify where it’s come from. The sex club. She passes it to me, takes a deeper drink, then sets aside the glass to start stripping down. I settle into a chair alongside the fireplace, but her purpose is to make a production of her tease-show. And I’m enrapt. When she’s down to her red-satin-and-black-lace bra, a matching thong and high heels only, it’s not just fiery adrenaline pumping through me. My blood turns to magma. My nerve endings snap like livewires.

“Okay. So how do I even start?” “Like any other conversation. Start slow. Let it simmer. You don’t go straight for the clit, right? You tease, you build it up. Do the same here. You could start with the classic ‘what are you wearing’ line, but if you want something that really works… tell a story.” “Story?” she echoed. “You mean, like, read erotica?” “No, I mean tell him something from your life. Something hot, or something that could have been hot if it’d gone just a little further. Something real—then spice it up. Let your imagination play with the memory.”