Sex And Erotic Stories Novels & Stories

She smiled and ended 'I do sound it don't I? Julia rarely smiled, at least not at work, but when she did it lit up the entire room. 'A bit,' I conceded, 'seriously though. Have you ever read any erotica?' 'No. I just don't like all that foul language.' 'Eroticism is in the mind,' I argued, 'you don't need bad language to be erotic but equally the language of love, however crude, is nearly always erotic to some. Look I've just finished reading a story that I think you'll like. Why don't you read that and then decide?'

It was a raw, wet mess of sex. Splosh. Slap. Splosh. "We are going to shift your womb as a team!" Leo shouted after he pulled his cock out of her mouth. The men began to change places. They moved like a dance. One man would pull out, and another would push in. Lily was never empty. She was constantly being filled by a new, massive cock. She felt the different shapes—the length of Kai, the width of Zane, the power of Jax. She felt her womb being pushed back and forth. She felt like her insides were being melted by the hot water and the hot men. The erotica was so loud. The sound of the bubbles and their heavy breathing filled the night.

that felt like the most powerful ending for this couple. Okay, that was the heartfelt, literary reason. Now for the completely, utterly ridiculous and honest reason: I literally could not write another sex scene. I am not joking. We were closing in on 80,000 words on this thing! A hundred thousand words! Do you have any idea how many different ways there are to describe a hand running through hair? Or a deep gaze across a room? I was starting to lose my mind trying to come up with fresh, non-repetitive action. I truly don't think I would have survived trying to write a fresh, unique, meaningful, and non-absurdly-long sex scene at this point in the narrative. My fingers were cramping, my thes

I want you to fuck my pussy while you suck my nipples and bite at the little rings. ‘And?’ Ross said, his face impassive as he forked up the spicy tomato sauce. ‘And...and...I want you to push a finger into my anus, while you suck my clitoris and lick up my juices. I want to make you come inside me.’ Stacey squirmed on the cool seat, pressing her pouting, thickened sex-lips against the now warm wood. Her juices had seeped down to pool on the chair. She could hardly believe she was saying these things. They usually didn’t speak during sex. But that was then. Somehow this was now —a new time. A time of endless possibilities. Lord, what a birthday this was turning out to be!

Perhaps it's not that unusual, but I really want more variety in our love making. She likes a straightforward fuck every once in a while, but mostly we just masturbate each other, maybe every week or so. She doesn't like oral sex and doesn't like me to touch her bottom and anal sex is out of the question. That causes me to think about sex more than a man my age should.

"Swallow it, niece. Take Uncle's pierced cock down your slutty throat." I choked, tears running, but relaxed. He fucked my mouth slow, training me inch by inch. Pulled a book from the shelf—old erotica, yellow pages. Read aloud while thrusting. "'The duke bent his maid over, cock slamming her wet cunt while she begged for more.' Sound familiar, you taboo bitch?" His words mixed with the story, hips rolling. The piercing scraped my throat, cold bump adding to the stretch. I sucked hungry, tasting pre-cum. "Deeper. Read with me in your mind—'He filled her ass with his seed, marking her as his.' Gonna do that to you soon."

Just me, my nerdy glasses constantly slipping down my nose, and the three ripped, dangerously attractive stepbrothers I’ve done everything possible to avoid since they entered my life. Kai, Jax, and Ryker. All tall, heavily tattooed, muscular, and packing the kind of cocks I describe in vivid, vulgar detail in my secret online stories. The ones that made my anonymous account LunaLustWrites explode in popularity. Faceless videos of my body — heavy tits bouncing, my tight pussy stretched and creaming around thick toys, my ass arched high showing that small heart tattoo and distinct mole on my lower back. I write depraved taboo fantasies and film myself living them out in secret. No one knows t

She felt the hot flood inside her, another man’s claim mixing with the first. As she lay there panting, shuddering through the aftershocks, Sasha’s climax reached its peak. Kael was hammering into her ass with unstoppable force. “Come for me, Sasha,” he growled, gripping her shoulders. Sasha’s cry was sharp, a dagger of pleasure. Her body tightened, then convulsed. Kael held her through it, then drove his own release into her with a final, ground-out groan. For a moment, there was only the sound of heavy breathing, the smell of sex thick in the air.

You have to claim them. When he’d gone, because I wasn’t finished yet, I lay on the rumpled bed, and brought myself off with my fingers. I thought of how he’d behaved earlier, sadistic and cruel, reveling in my cries from the pinch of the clamps and the slam of his cock. Then I fell asleep for an hour or so. When I woke, my hair was in a crazy, damp tangle and my breasts were a mess of scratch marks and blotches. And he was probably eating wild turbot because he usually does when it’s on expenses at Saxby’s. I would too. The point I’m making: sex isn’t like it is in the movies; it isn’t even like porn. Sex isn’t like anything except itself.