Self Chastity Stories Novels & Stories

Layla POV My body bristles with anger even as the rain pours down on me. I don’t bother to walk faster. I don’t bother to cover myself. I imagine that the rain is cleansing my sins. That it’s erasing my lust and shame. It all seems a little childish now. Everything I did, it was only because I thought that my feelings would be reciprocated. I never imagined that I would be the only one wanting this. I threw myself at the man, and confessed to everything, but still, he didn’t want me. It was almost like he didn’t want anything to do with me. If that was the case, why did he kiss me first?

Destiny Ryder, 28 and virgin, craves her first taste of sin. At Adult Fun Inc., she strips bare, blindfolded, and ready. A stranger’s tongue teases her nipples and licks her dripping wet puss*y, then thrusts deep into her virgin cunt, breaking her virginity open with wild pleasure. Sweaty and free, she’s hooked—but someone’s watching, promising hotter nights ahead. NB: This steamy collection of hot erotic and steamy stories unleashes Destiny’s story and more: sultry tales of lust, tangled bodies, and forbidden thrills.

Jennifer: Shrug emoji. I decided to take a different tack. This time, rather than pick safe, general stories, I chose a bunch of different categories and sent my favorites from each. One was romantic, about a couple falling in love. The next was about a wife who sleeps with another man. Another had a husband bringing in his best friend for a threesome. I chose one that had some bondage (not my thing, but I picked a story that was highly rated). I sent a Lesbian story and a Gay male one (again, I relied on the ratings). I linked a story about watching two people have sex in the woods, and one about a girl riding a sybian for the first time. I skipped two categories: nonconsent and incest. As

Stress. Then her voice returns, richer this time, sliding right into my ear even though her words seem to echo from the statue. “I found a young priest in a mountain monastery last winter. He had taken a vow of silence. I broke it by sliding into his bed at night and wrapping my mouth around his untouched cock. He stayed mute at first, biting his own arm until it bled. But when I climbed on top and sank down on him, he broke screaming every filthy word he had held inside for years. He wanted me to ride him faster while the others slept. He came so many times he could barely walk to morning prayer.”

“Mine cheated with his trainer. I found out he was the one who curated the same playlist my boyfriend and I fuck with. It was a messy one.” “Hold up! He cheated with his male trainer?” Isabella asked. “So he’s a closeted gay?” She roared in laughter, the rest of us joining her. “And he wasn’t even a top,” Chloe adds amidst the fits of laughter she’s having. “Anyway, I stayed for two months just to fuck his childhood best friend as revenge. Best sex I’ve ever had.” Isabella laughs softly. “I caught mine with his assistant on my birthday. I still went home and fucked the guy who delivered the apology flowers the next day. Sometimes you just need to feel wanted.”

My nipples were stiff against the cotton. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” I whispered, voice already trembling. “It has been one week since my last confession.” Father Elias’s deep voice came through the lattice, calm but already guarded. “Speak your sins, my child.” I closed my eyes and let the words spill out. At first, I kept them safe… impure thoughts and lustful desires. Then I heard his breathing change on the other side of the lattice. So, I grew bolder.

he asked. A moan escaped my lips. I pushed back against his hand. "Yes. Please." Father Jake rubbed faster. His other hand stayed on my breast. He pinched my nipple. "You are dripping," he said. "Your body wants this." I nodded. Shame mixed with need. "It does. Even though I am married. Even though this is a church." He pushed one finger inside me. Then two. He moved them in and out. The wet sounds filled the quiet space. "You cheated once," he said. "Now you are here with me. Does that make you feel worse or better?"

"Any juicy stories to share?" "I mean, not any that are that cool to share," she said, looking down, her fingers twisting in her lap. "Oh, come on, I mean, one-night stands, secret hookups, there's always something unique. I'm sure you have a ton of stories tucked away." "I don't like to kiss and tell. It's not my thing," she replied primly, turning her head, but her body betrayed her. "Kiss and tell?" He chuckled. "Who are you, some Victorian lady? I like privacy too, but come on, loosen up."

His intense eyes burned into my spread cunt, watching my fingers slide in and out with wet, obscene sounds. “Stop talking and listen,” he commanded, voice dropping even lower, full of dominance. “You are my son’s widow, yet here you are like a filthy little slut, legs wide open, fucking your own fingers in my bed. Does that make you wet? Knowing you are betraying his memory by creaming for his father?” I nodded frantically, shame mixing with pure need. “Yes… it does. I am so sorry but I cannot stop. My pussy has been dead for months and now it is dripping just from you looking at me.”

“Better than those dirty stories you write in your diary?” I winked at her and saw the coldness in her countenance. “I only write, I have never really experienced them.” “What do you write about then? Your fantasies?” “Even better…I write about how I fanstasize other people having sex.” I was dumbfounded. “Oh my goodness, that is the horniest thing I have ever heard.”