Pee Fetish Novels & Stories

Ste was unsure what to say or do, so he nodded and made a non-committal sound. “Well?” Jamie probed. “Do you think I’m abnormal?” “No,” Ste answered, a little too quickly. “I mean, there’s a category on Pornhub for it so… it’s gotta be normal, right?” “Oh?” Jamie perked up. “There is?” “Well, yeah… it’s the S part in BDSM,” Ste explained to his clueless tormentor. “Oh,” Jamie laughed. “Maybe I’ll tie you up and whip you.” It was phrased like a joke but the look in Jamie’s eyes was calculating, as if he were gauging Ste’s reaction to the suggestion.

His hands reached up, releasing mine; I pouted, my eyes looking at him. "Don't pout, Kitten; it isn't a good look." His hand swung, and I moaned at the feel of the leather across my butt cheek. "Come cuddle and talk." He picked me up, carried me to the bed, and laid there in his arms, relaxing. "So, Kitten, what other fetishes do you have?" Looking at him, I was unsure how to answer but decided I should be honest, or as honest as I am able to be.

I can't help but gasped at what he did as I was waiting for what he will do next. "Fuck! What are you doing, Dom?" I asked Dom with a confused tone when he suddenly rubbed his dick on my ass, it felt so fucking weird when he rubbed his dick on me, especially since I was not used to someone doing it to me. "I'm sorry sir, it's just my fetish. I love the idea of rubbing my raging hard dick in the ass of a muscular and handsome top, it feels so dominating." Dom replied and he did not even bother to stop what he was doing to me.

Our body fluids mixed into a scent that was to become my new olfactory fetish. “Call me Master,” he said softly, his ears resting on my lips. “Master,” I moaned, making enough hot air to make his body shiver. “Fuck yes,” he said, thrusts getting faster, eyes closed. “You own this pussy, Master,” I moaned louder into his ears, my hips meeting his thrusts. “Oh,” he sang in a way that softened me up, sending a vibration over my core.

Smelly socks worn by some very petite feet. Racheal had given over to my foot fetish a few times. Let me lick or kiss them while I jerked off or fucked her, but she never quite seemed to enjoy the worship as much as me. I appreciated her allowing me to indulge, but there wasn't much beyond that. She was rather vanilla, I was a closeted deviant. How I wished she would leave her socks out for me to jerk off while she was gone... But alas, she didn't.

The red room was back to its vigorous mood, and was much more alive, better than the previous one, two sweating bodies, one hands tied together, and the extension was on the headboard of the bed, his back facing the predator, banging his behind with great force. He can't scream because of the gag ball in his mouth, every time Cafelle push deep forward, his eyes will blurry from tears and can't see a thing from pleasure. He was one of the lower prostitutes in the club where HiVi and Aru worked before. Cafelle will never not touch his elites, since he had a fetishism for BDSM with wild hard leash, and the love for whipping and hitting his sub. Because he can't get excited without playing with

In my pursuit of excitement, I lay on the bed with my legs open, frantically pleasuring myself in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Through the dark glass, I could see a strong man on the balcony opposite staring at my body intently. This extreme taboo made my scalp numb, and I grew increasingly depraved. I tried my best to arch my back as I became a shameless, irrational, and thrill-seeking tart. My name was Layla Terra, and I was a dance student.

Isabella asked, unable to fully suppress the quiver in her voice. "I believe so, yes. The people I've interacted with and have had conversations about the fetish with have been men." Victoria toyed with the hem of her tank top, flashing Isabella a look at her tan stomach. Although her words were innocent, the glint in her eyes suggested she knew exactly how Isabella felt about the topic. "But who knows? Maybe there are some girls out there who get just as hot as the guys do," she said with a smile. "Maybe." Isabella tried not to sound too interested. "I mean, I can see how people are into pee and ass licking, but I just can't wrap my head around the whole shit-eating thing," she deflected.

"But there are a few that stand out. You might even think they're weird." "Trust me." I lower my voice, let her hear the arousal. Push up against her, let her feel my hard length. "There are things I find sexy about you, that most people would commit me for. Borders on fetishes," my confession is whispered as I lean in, nipping lightly at her neck. "Do tell." I tap her hip, looking forward to hearing her sing my praises. It hasn't happened often enough in my personal life.

I breathed his perfume, so fresh and sweet, that it made me thirsty, desperate for anything he could offer me. I would have, willingly, knelt at your feet and begged for attention. Letting him caress my hair, like his dear pet, in the same way a man did with the girl between his legs, while she touched his penis gently. Even if it screamed against everything I believed or took as my life route, I would have surrendered. Not least because admitting my fetishes out loud were nothing of what I insisted on hiding. He was my fetish. Everything in it. It took me too long to find an answer that didn't sound according to my mental confusion, and Zachary added: