Playing Dirty Book Novels & Stories

And yet, all I could think about was the way he looked at me, the way he dropped to his knees on his own dining room floor and handed me the key to his life, and that massive, unimaginable length between his legs that had stretched me open last night in a way no man ever had. "You stupid, desperate, nasty bitch," I cursed at myself, digging my nails into my jeans. "You disgusting, hypocritical little slut. You stand there crying to him about your mom and your principles, and then the second he pulls you close, you melt right into his chest like a pathetic, horny teenager. You're so dirty. You're a sick, wretched, shameless bitch, Sophia. You're falling for him. You actually have feelings for

You can access all the books + bonus content on her P*****n Page Mahi Mistry. Dirty Wild Sultan Copyright © 2021 Mahi Mistry All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a piece of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

“Ahhhhh… fuck… ahhhhh…” I imagined Victor watching me. I imagined him telling me to moan louder. I imagined him calling me his dirty little daughter in law while he watched me fuck myself for him. My moans grew louder and less controlled. “Ahhhhhh… Sir… please… ahhhhhh…” My fingers were soaked. Every time I pulled them out they glistened in the faint light from the window before I pushed them back in. I curled them upward and rubbed the spot that always made my thighs shake. My clit was swollen under my other hand. I was so wet that my fingers made soft filthy sounds with every movement.

“I love your cocks more than I should. Please—fuck me harder. Use me.” Damian made a broken sound from the corner, but they ignored him. The rotations got filthier. They started switching holes more aggressively—pussy to ass to mouth without pause. Lube made everything slippery and obscene. I lost track of who was where. All I knew was constant fullness, constant pleasure, constant dirty words whispered against my skin. “Such a perfect little breeding hole.” “Gonna fill every part of you until you’re leaking for days.” “Bet you never thought you’d be airtight on your wedding night, did you, Mrs. Romanov?”

His blanket was over his lap as he closed the book he was reading. Holly bit her lip, pushing the rest of the door open—revealing her dirty, naked body. She leaned against the doorframe, presenting her delicate and toned body. Her nipples were already hard and her pussy was glistening in the bedroom lighting. Her dirty, filth-coated teen body was enticing. Holly could see the sparkle in his eye as he eyed her from head to toe. “Ahh...I see.” He said with a dirty grin. Mr Brook placed the book on his desk and tossed the blanket off his lap. His hand reached down underneath his pajama bottoms as he groped his cock. “Turn around for me, slut.”

We can be friends. The phrase fired me up. I didn’t want to be friends with him. I wanted to be the dirty girl in the photos, and I could take it if only he’d let me. I dropped my backpack on the floor, somehow managing to find the strength of confession. “I have sides to me, too,” I said, then launched into a stream. “I looked in your wardrobe drawer, Julian. I shouldn’t have done it, but I was curious when I was taking one of your shirts out. I saw the pictures, and I saw the toys. I do know those sides of you, and it doesn’t make me want it any less. It makes me want it more. I’m not as innocent as I look. I’m not a baby who doesn’t know what sex, smut, and kink is. I love that stuff. I l

He yanked open the nightstand drawer and fished out that cursed book: The Devil’s Little Bane. He held it up like evidence in court, the pages fluttering. “Snatched this gem from you the other day. Knew you were deep in it. What, ten pages from the end? I finished it myself last night.” He grinned devilishly, and my chest squeezed hard, like it was about to combust. “Fuck, Cindy, the shit in here… it’s pure filth. Balls deep in demon dick and submission games. I didn’t peg you for such a dirty reader.”

She glanced back down at the leather-bound book resting on the floorboards beside her. The empty pages seemed to stare up at her, daring her to turn them. With a trembling hand, she picked it up again, the leather warm against her palm. She knew she should get up, should finish unpacking, should do something practical, anything to distract herself from the throbbing between her legs. But she couldn't. She was hooked. The anonymous writer had become a guide, a seductress whispering secrets into her ear, and Pinky was a willing student, desperate to learn every lesson.

“Not my thing.” Look, some guys got off on power dynamics and age gaps. While I didn’t mind the decade between us, I wasn’t about to fetishize it like some creepy professor fantasy. “You made the connection in the first place.” “That’s because I have a dirty mind. Doesn’t mean I want to roleplay it.” “Exactly.” She dumped her bag on my sofa and began extracting what looked like a unicorn threw up all over a Staples catalog. Pastel project books, color-coordinated pens, page flags in every shade of the rainbow. “Now show me the books.”

I'm a mess – a perfect, filthy, destroyed, worshipped mess. "Don't clean up yet," Ethan says. He grabs his phone. Photographs me – covered in cum, spread on the sheets, the bowl of unused condoms visible on the nightstand, evidence of a night that exceeded every fantasy I've ever had. "Now," he says, setting the phone down. "Who wants to go again?" Round two is dirtier than round one.