Play Dirty Novel Novels & Stories

It was all she could muster in response. "Such a bad, dirty girl," he breathed. Again and again his hips bucked into her, breeding her. Neither of them had bothered with protection, but it only made it hotter. Sophie wanted his raw cock, wanted to know that her father's friend was fucking her hard and unprotected. The thought that his cum would drip from her freshly used hole spurred her on further. From pure and untouched to filthy and used. Devon was making her into a slut, his slut, and it only made her hotter. "I'm so bad," she whispered back, voice hitched with pleasure. "Fuck it out of me. Fuck all this dirtiness out of me!"

The first time I have ever fantasized coming for someone I have developed undeniable dirty feelings I'm not so proud of. It's big just like I expected and I don't lose eye contact with him. He is staring deep into my soul when I fondle it with my palms, every inch of it, his groin before bending to suck. I wasn't so sure if I'm doing the right job. I'm pretty sure I have written a part of this in my novel and it was motivated by one of the p**n videos I stumbled across and now I'm doing exactly but slightly worried if I'm doing a good job.

The filthy reality of the situation made everything hotter. “That is exactly what you are, baby—a dirty cheating Hollywood slut who sneaked out on her perfect fiancé just to get her brains fucked out by a regular guy. I love how your married pussy is creaming all over me again. Tell me you want me to fill you up one more time before you go back to him and pretend nothing happened.” She leaned down and kissed me messily while riding me faster, her voice breaking into desperate moans.

He felt a sudden surge of satisfaction now that his cock is out, he began to stroke it up and down. He never felt this kind of intensity before, it was new to him. Sure, he had fucked women before, but his desire for this stripper was too much. He had never desired a woman this much before. The slow beat of the music in the background faded, and all he could think of was to fuck the woman. “Is this your first time to watch a naked woman dancing, senator?” Her sexy voice tickled every nerve in his body. Damn! How did she know that he was a senator? He didn't disclose any information about him, but he didn't care now.

"That's a dangerous habit." I didn't wait for permission. My hands were already on her hips, dragging her against me as I pressed my mouth to her neck. Her toothbrush hit the sink with a soft clink. "You want to be caught, don't you?" I growled, my hand sliding under her tank and grabbing her bare breast. "You like playing dirty in my house." She moaned low, rocking back into me. "You're the one who walked in." I spun her around, lifted her to sit on the edge of the sink, and shoved the tank up to her collarbone. Her legs spread without hesitation, panties already soaked.

Fully knowing my whole body, he asks, “how wet are you right now, Madame President?” Fuck. Nothing will top the way he asks me that filthy question while addressing me as my formal title. He makes it all dirty, forbidden, and dangerous. He is creating this game for me to have all my anticipation begging for him. I never felt dirtier in my life and I love it. I look at him, never backing down. “So much and we both know whose fault is that.” He chuckles, but his eyes are already darker for need to devour me. Oh to have this man do the begging…

“I’m not trying to wash you off, Damien. I’m only cleaning the dirt you left on me.” Neva returned quickly with a clean white cloth. She placed it in Calla’s hand. “Thank you,” Calla said calmly. She began to wipe her fingers, slow and careful, the blood smearing onto the cloth. Her face was calm, but her eyes still burned with fire. Damien groaned. “You think wiping your hands makes you clean? You’re filth now. Just like me.” Calla finished cleaning her hands and dropped the dirty cloth on the floor. She leaned close, her voice low and sharp. “No, Damien. The filth stays with you. I’ll never carry it again.”

I hung up and put the phone down, my hand still trembling from everything crashing together at once. The money he was offering, the filthy journal, the way my pussy would not stop aching... it was too much. Professor James leaned in closer again, his body heat reaching me as he picked up the journal and held it out to me. "We're not done, Lana. Open it to page twenty-two." "The one where I described edging a shy girl until she's dripping down her thigh and begging for cock. Read it aloud for me slowly. Let me hear every filthy word in your voice and watch how wet it makes you."

"My rebellions? You mean living? God, I hate this. I hate that your dirty games spill over on me. No friends—because who wants to hang with the girl who might get them shot? No boyfriends—because one leaked photo and your precious reputation tanks. So yeah, I sneak out. Sue me." I can't even hold myself back any longer. I just want to hang up and throw this fucking phone at the wall and scream. Truth is, I'm a mess because of him. Spoiled rotten with cash and gadgets, but lonely as fuck. No real connections. Just me, my room, and a stack of erotic novels that make my cheeks burn and my fingers wander. I've touched myself to more filthy fantasies than I can count—imagining rough hands, deep v

Both girls spun around instantly and dropped to their knees, pressing their tits together, tongues out, faces tilted up. “Cum all over us, baby,” Sugar begged. “Paint your dirty little strippers.” “Cover our faces and tits,” Candy added, opening her mouth wide. I stroked my cock furiously and exploded. Thick, powerful ropes of cum shot across their pretty faces — splattering Candy’s cheek, landing on Sugar’s tongue, coating their lips, chins, and dripping down onto their heaving tits. They moaned and kissed each other sloppily, swapping my load back and forth, licking it off each other’s skin like greedy sluts until their faces and breasts were glazed and shiny.