Romantic Sexual Stories Novels & Stories

he asked. She thought for a second. “Ones that have happy endings.” “A romantic?” he asked. She never considered herself one. “I like noir—but the stories where the boy gets the girl in the end. Or vice versa.” “Top shelf,” he told her, indicating the back room. She went there and waited. What if he followed? What would that mean? She’d been out of the dating loop since she’d landed her current job, the one that had sucked up all her time, her mind, her soul, her life. Her fingers trailed over the broken spines of misused paperbacks, and she hoped he would follow her. But what would she say? What would she do?

He ran his fingers all over my back as I traced his abs with my fingers. "...missed...you...so...much..." I panted, trying to catch my breath. "...missed...you..." Randy panted as he too was catching his breath. I leaned up to kiss him as he pulled me closer to him. I then straddled him again and we went for another round of some much-needed passionate sex.

“Yes, I’m also going to fuck you like my lover. Because that’s what you are, my love-whore.” I stopped for a moment to take in her natural beauty, to enjoy her open sexuality, and to give my cock those three extra seconds to get fully hard. I came up behind her, my cock resting right against her slick sex. My hands went around her waist and I pulled her back up to standing, but still facing away from me. My hands roamed all over her soft skin. I kissed her neck as I clutched her breasts, rubbed her tummy, and cupped her sex. Her hands reached back and held my head as she mewled and moaned in raw sexual abandon.

I sobbed, my head thumping against the wall with every heavy thrust. He let out a low, guttural growl and captured my mouth again. The kiss was messy—tongues clashing and teeth grazing. I felt a coil tightening in my lower stomach, an unbearable tension that screamed for release. My legs locked tighter around his waist. “Ryan… yes. Right there. I’m cumming.” “Let’s cum together,” he whispered, as he delivered three devastating, powerful-shaking thrusts. The world shattered. I screamed into his shoulder, my teeth sinking into the expensive wool of his blazer as my body convulsed around him.

The hangover was a bitch but it was worth every second. Two years married now, and their love had only deepened. The way Zach would lean in and murmur something filthy in Julian’s ear just to watch his ears flush red. The way Julian would melt when Zach gripped the back of his neck and kissed him—slow, possessive, like the world could burn and they wouldn’t notice. The casual touches that never quite stayed appropriate even with me sitting right there. It was both beautiful and torture. Because while they had everything, my love life was a rotating door of disappointment.

Our clits rubbed together as she started scissoring, our hips rolling in a steady rhythm that sent sparks through both of us. Her dark skin glistened with sweat, and I felt every slick slide of her folds against mine. Belle broke the kiss just long enough to watch us, her face flushed at the sight then her lips crashed against mine with renewed vigor. Only stopping to tighten her hold on my neck and pepper kisses along my jawline and neck then going back to bite my lower lip and kiss the fuck out of me. Tasha's hands roamed my body, one squeezing my breast and pinching my nipple while she ground her pussy harder against mine. Our wetness mixed, making every movement slippery and sexy.

His scent surrounded me—clean, masculine, familiar—and his fingers left trails of fire as they moved down my sides, lifting my dress inch by inch. When he whispered, “Tell me what you want,” I didn’t hesitate. “You. I want you inside me. Please.” He smiled—dark, possessive—and unzipped his jeans, freeing himself. I gasped as he pushed into me, slowly, filling me inch by inch. My nails dug into his shoulders, and I moaned—loud and raw—as he started to move. This wasn’t just sex. This was years of longing, of restraint, of pretending. His thrusts grew deeper, more intense, and I wrapped my legs around him, wanting to keep him there, to never let him go.

She screamed when she had the chance to go near me. I acted shocked, then laughed. “Oh yes, I am. If you want to find further details, go ask your boyfriend how his hard cock satisfied this pussy of a whore. That might help you to pleasure him more so he wouldn’t need to look for a new pussy to fill in with his cock.” Then I walked away. Our forbidden sex continued for the rest of the trip. There were times when we’d do it in the bathroom, on the outside, in the darkest area of the island, and more.

On a side table, rows of red candles sat beside bottles of oil and lube. "What the hell?" Emma gasped. She never imagined Romero would be such a freak. She imagined him bringing sexy girls into this secret playground. Yes, he was rich enough to get girls who shared similar sexual kinks. She thought about how he would make their bodies coil with a mix of pleasure and pain... Images of Romero doing freaky things with baddies filled Emma's mind. A rush of heat flooded her body. Her nipples stiffened against her lace bra. It rubbed against the fabric. A warm, throbbing sensation bloomed between her thighs. Her pussy grew slick. The sudden wetness made her press her legs together.

His entire body went rigid, his muscles shaking violently as he shot a thick, hot wave of cum deep inside my pussy, filling me up until it was spilling out. We stayed pinned against that glass window for a very long time, both of us panting for breath, our sweat mixing together as the city lights twinkled far below us. The sin was committed. It was beautiful, it was wrong, and as Julian slowly pulled his thick dick out and wrapped his strong arms around my shaking, naked body, I knew neither of us could ever go back to the way things were before.