Play Dirty Novel Novels & Stories

“No, no. Not for a thriller. I’ve been working on a different project, actually. A novel called The Girl Downstairs.” Her eyes were magnificent, as was her smile. “Oh my God! About Rosie? You’ve got the dirty bits in it?! Whoa, fuck. You have!” “Some of them, yes,” I said with a smirk. “But there is a lot more to it than those. Call it a forbidden romance, if you will. But there is a great amount of romance in it, alongside the filth.” “Holy shit. You’re serious? You’re going to publish a book about Rosie?!”

Be honest, what’s the worst, filthiest thing you’ve ever done for money? I’ll give you a minute to think about that. Think very closely… Great, now I’ll tell you what mine is… sex. Filthy dirty sex where I was used like a whore and worse; it wasn’t even by a man. It was a woman. A powerful, rich woman who turned out to be exactly the kind of dirty fantasy my body had been craving for years.

Her heartbeat quickened. “This face… it feels familiar.” She leaned closer to the mirror, studying every detail. The eyes. The nose. The lips. “I’ve seen this face before,” she whispered. Her mind raced, memories colliding— And then it hit her. “No…” Her eyes widened in horror. “This is the villain from that novel.” Her heart pounded violently. “The Dirty Mafia…” Her breath caught. “And this girl…” Her voice trembled. “Rose Whitmore.” Her knees nearly gave out.

Hiking the hem of my gown up my thighs, I jolt when his fingers connect with the crotch of my panties. I’m ashamed the spot is already soaked. He rubs my pussy through my panties, pressing his thumb down on my clit before shoving his finger into my hole together with my panties. It’s crazy and dirty, but that’s exactly the kind of man Mr Walter is. What sane man fucks their help right under their wife’s nose anyway?

I nodded, lost, knowing I’d follow him anywhere, even if it meant burning. He helped me into a fresh dress, fingers lingering on my skin, lips finding every place he’d marked. By the time I stepped back into the sunlight, I knew I’d never be clean again—not really. Not for him. And I didn’t want to be.

We all met up in Zahra’s room since she was the only one who didn’t care if someone ate on the bed, while the rest of us hated even the littlest bit of dirt on our sheets. “So, what’s this new piece of gossip that’s got you so excited,” Our family dynamics were pretty simple to understand, Henrik and Ava preferred to seduce and steal, while Zahra and I preferred to do the dirty and logical work, neither team told the other what to do or how to do it and perhaps that’s why we all worked so well together.

Anyone could walk in at any moment and see us, but none of us seemed to care. There was a certain thrill to it; the fact that we could get caught. We weren't doing anything illegal, but it sure felt like it. "You shouldn't be pleasured after your actions, yet here you are, enjoying it like a good little slut." I literally moaned. I'd thought dirty talk was overrated, but this… this right here was everything.

Piss on my body adds to the mess-droplets flying off with every movement. Hit her tits and face. Jade's eyes are half-closed. mouth open. I lean down, my wet chest sliding over her breasts, rubbing my piss-skin all over her. She arches up, Rubbing against it, loving the filth. I quicken my pace, pounding into her harder. Her pussy clenches, Milking my cock. I can feel her getting wetter, juices flowing out around me. mixing with what's left of her piss.

He doesn’t push me away right away, doesn’t look surprised, just looks at me, up close, too close, with that calm that gets under my skin more than any punch. “Does it bother you that much?” he murmurs. “Everything about you bothers me,” I snap, “that attitude, that face like nothing matters, like you didn’t just destroy someone.” I tighten my grip. “You know what I think?” I add. “That all of this is a front, that whole perfect player act is just a show.” His eyes shift, just slightly. “Maybe,” I continue, lowering my voice, “girls aren’t enough for you.” The silence turns thick.

Yeah, it was a perfectly normal after school activity. I ended up jumping into the dirty container and found the small, black book the moment my feet touched the container's floor. It sat there, calm and imposing just like it had been in my dream. I brushed the hair off my face, noting how odd and stupid I most likely looked now as I bent to pick the book. It felt light and heavy at the same time, if that made sense and I opened the first page gingerly. It contained faded ink which I could probably read if I was in a more conducive environment, not this dumpster. I hastily shoved the book into my tote bag and managed to climb out of the container with as much dignity as I could muster.