Polyamorous Erotica Novels & Stories

Letitia’s hands flew to his hair, hips rocking against his mouth as pleasure cut through the cold still clinging to her skin. “I still hate you,” she gasped, even as her thighs trembled around his head. Connor looked up, lips shiny with her arousal. “Good. Hate me while you come on my tongue.” He slid two thick fingers inside her, curling them perfectly while his mouth sucked hard on her clit. Letitia came with a sharp cry, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure rolled through her. Connor didn’t give her time to catch her breath.

Sleek, bright, gel-coated hair matched a sleek, bright decadent image; and though her body was just about as womanly as it was possible to be, she dressed it as if it were a man’s. Elliot knew who she was, of course. On the first night she’d already looked vaguely familir, and on the second, he’d asked the barman about her. It hadn’t surprised him at all that she was the famous erotic novelist Diamanda; in fact he couldn’t understand why he hadn’‘t recognised her immediately. He had her photograph at home on the back of several book-jackets. His goddess was as famous for her hedonistic, rule-breaking lifestyle as she was for her passionately purple prose: it was well-known in this city and i

"We are an exclusive, closed, polyamorous relationship forged in the fires of this club, anchored by intense power exchange, and sustained by an absolute, unyielding love." A soft, collective exhale moved through the Library. In the mainstream world, polyamory was often dismissed as a loophole for infidelity, a symptom of greed, or an inability to commit. But looking at the three of them—anchored to one another with a devotion so fierce it was almost palpable—the myth dissolved instantly.

“All that fighting and you just wanted my cock.” “Yes,” I gasped. “Don’t stop.” Our bodies slapped together. Sweat mixed with rose petals. The music kept playing, covering our moans and dirty words. I was lost in it…the feeling of being completely taken while still half-tied up in his prank. Luca reached between us and rubbed my clit again. Another orgasm built fast. “I’m close,” I warned. “Come with me,” he said, thrusting faster. “Come on my cock, Amelia.” I shattered again, crying out his name as my pussy pulsed around him. Luca followed right after, burying himself deep and groaning as he came inside me. I felt every pulse, every hot spurt.

Disclaimer: Explicit erotica concept, raw and unfiltered desires. Triggering themes. Lesbian content. Do not go any further if you are not ready for the heat that comes with it. Rated 18+ --- Priya Walsh was dreaming again. She could feel it even inside the dream, that specific awareness that sits at the back of your mind telling you this isn't real while everything happening in front of you feels more real than anything you experienced while you were awake. Brooklyn's hands were in her hair.

“But we both know what a desperate slut you are.” She came anyway, hard, shamefully, and squirting around the dildo, piss mixing with her juices, running down her thighs onto the floor. Damon laughed and kept going, forcing her straight into another orgasm before the first even ended. Over and over. The bench creaked under her thrashing. Her voice went hoarse from screaming. The plug in her ass shifted with every convulsion, pressing against the dildo through her thin wall. She lost count after the fourth orgasm. Everything mixed into pain and unwanted pleasure.

Emma lay beside us on the desk, watching with wide eyes and rubbing her clit. "Tell me how much you love your dad's cock," I growled, spanking Lila again. "I love it!" Lila cried out. "Your thick cock feels so good in my pussy. Don't stop, please!" I kept thrusting, switching my gaze between both girls. Emma reached over and pinched Lila's nipple, earning a sharp moan. My balls tightened as I fucked Lila deeper, the wet sounds of her pussy filling the room. "More," I said, pulling Lila's hair. "Both of you are mine tonight."

I not only wanted an up- close show, but I wanted Polly to know as soon as possible that if she ever wanted to make this a regular thing, she needn’t worry about the wife. “Come on, Trent, cum inside that tight little pussy of hers,” I begged. “Cum inside her just like you always wanted to do with me. Of course, she’s so young and fertile; I just hope you don’t impregnate her.” The very idea only left me hotter and more aroused than ever before. I suppose, looking back, it’s why I had to confront them. I wanted to goad him on – I wanted to be a part of the crucial finish, because it was ultimately the best part of the entire fetish for me. The idea of my husband, impregnating some gorgeous y

☆ Potential emotional and psychological triggers: Intense emotional manipulation, gaslighting, trauma bonding, toxic relationships portrayed erotically, addictive sexual dependency, loss of control, identity erasure, and stories that blur the line between fantasy and dark desire. This is not “vanilla” erotica. Many stories push boundaries into the darkest, most depraved corners of human (and non-human) sexuality. Themes may include moral ambiguity, lack of real-world consent in fantasy scenarios, and sexual acts that would be illegal or highly dangerous in reality. Everything here is pure fantasy and is not meant to reflect healthy real-life behavior or relationships. Reader discretion is st

“Is that all?? You can go ahead.” Naomi walked to the bookshelf and bent down. Her skirt lifted high, showing him the blue lace stretched over her ass. She dragged her finger slowly across the spines. “You have a nice collection,” she murmured, pulling one free. She flipped the pages, pretending to read. “Romance.” Her eyes flicked back to him. “Do you have something raw? Something erotic?” "Is that what you want to read?" Raymond asked. "Yeah," she replied. "I love reading erotic stories."