Relatos Sin Tabues Novels & Stories

“By the way, that whole bitch thing I murmured earlier was actually—” “I know you were talking about Miss Alia,” I shrugged. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She must’ve taken the last part of that sentence seriously, because for the next hour and a half, all we talked about were her “secrets.” “I’ve never had a threesome, but I fucking love the idea,” she said in a fit of excitement, as if her dirty mouth couldn’t get any dirtier. “Imagine being taken apart by two guys at the same time. Fuck!”

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction intended for adult audiences. It explores themes of religious taboo, power dynamics, and forbidden romance. It is not intended to reflect real-world religious practices or figures. All characters involved in romantic or sexual situations are consenting adults. ✴️✴️ The wooden pew was digging into Sienna's back. Saint Jude's smelled like wax and cold stone and something old she couldn't name. She hated this place. She hated the silence that wasn't actually silence, just fifty people breathing and pretending to be holy.

“I think that we’re going to go to hell for this.” “We’re not doing anything wrong, Gabriel and you’ve already said on several occasions that we are not related. It might be wrong by society standards, but who cares what anybody else thinks.” I reached down and peeled open the petals, so that he could see the bright painted pink insides. He made this growling sound and then he moved in with his tongue outstretched and leading the way.

He asked, and I rolled my eyes. "Leave her alone, Cain. Nobody is dreaming of your dumbass." Sel said. I couldn't help but laugh. "Coco is..." "Bless the poor girl's heart because God knows she deserves better." Coco and Cain were in a poly relationship. Cain more than Coco. Cain was allowed to sleep with every woman he fancied, while Coco couldn't do that-at least that's what Tabitha had told me. I found it absolutely disgusting but knew it was none of my business. If Coco was happy, then she should take it up with a therapist because I wasn't supporting any of that.

Note this a taboo/Forbidden Romance I have a confession to make. There has only ever been one man I wanted: Logan Lawman. Completely off-limits and twenty-five years my senior Logan. He is a walking demigod, with his broad shoulders and deep voice that makes my toes curl. Oh, and he’s also my Dad’s best buddy. To say that I’m screwed would be an understatement.

WARNING Explicit stepmother/stepson incest (he calls her "Mom" while he's balls-deep) • Raw cheating on the husband/father • Rough degrading sex: choking, slapping, spitting, hair-pulling, "slut" talk • Bareback creampies, facials, swallowing • Almost-getting-caught adrenaline • Age-gap filth + forbidden obsession Arranged-marriage jealousy and heartbreaking goodbye sex This is NOT romance. This is pure, dripping, no-limits taboo erotica. About "Hooked on his Dick" One open door was all it took. Natasha walks in on her stepson Noah stroking the biggest cock she's ever seen and instead of walking out, her panties soak through. From that second, they're doomed. Secret quickies while Dad

He needed to let out the recent development (or total opposite of that) in his life. “You can't hide anything from us, dude.” Colin spoke again, getting into position to shoot a ball. “You're gonna crack eventually and it's better sooner than later.” Colin was right, Gabriel hated to admit it but he was. Therefore, defeatedly, Gabriel straightened in his seat, wrapping his fingers around the glass of his again, refilled drink, hoping to absorb some of the coolness from the perspiration running down its body as he ground out the words, “I found Jos.”

she says panting quietly and I pull out my fingers from between her legs. I want to lick it too and know what she tastes like but…I need to be the voice of reasoning between the both of us. “What we just did is a taboo…we shouldn't do it again” I say to her and before she can respond, dad parks the car. “Liam and Gianna, you'll share a tent” dad says. We already knew, but hearing it again after what we just did speaks of a lot of forbidden things waiting for us.

The corporate environment only made the forbidden nature of what we were doing infinitely more intoxicating. During the day, we played our parts perfectly. I handed him briefs, scheduled his investor meetings, and greeted his clients. But beneath the professional facade, the air was constantly burning. It was in the lingering, secret glances he threw at me from across the boardroom table while his executives argued over profit margins. It was in the way his eyes would slowly trace the fit of my button-down shirts when he thought I wasn't looking. It was in the deliberate, accidental brushing of our fingers every single time I handed him a folder.

My skin felt so hot and damp, and between my legs was a wet mess, and the ache remained, refusing to fade even though I was now wide awake. Everything about that dream was so wrong, and forbidden. In our tribe, the Devil was the ultimate evil. My mother had raised me with terrifying stories about how he tempted good girls, how he ruined their souls, and how any woman who gave herself to him would bring shame and curses upon her entire family. We burned special herbs at night to keep him away. We were taught to fear even the mention of his name after sunset. If my mother ever found out I was having dreams like this, she would be heartbroken and furious.