Novel & Cerita Sex Stories From Women

Lucas groaned beneath me, “and fuck her properly.” And that’s what they did. They took turns fucking every hole in my body until I was begging for mercy.... My name is Sylvia. I’m a widow in my forties, and these was my cum-stained confessions. Now tell me… did my words make you cum? Did you touch yourself while reading every filthy line I whispered. Did you spread your legs wide and imagine every one of those men using you the way they used me? Or was it the other way around?

Every time Max twisted his finger, I would do the same, imagining that he was doing it to mine. As Max leaned down to bite her breast, his hand squeezed hard, causing her chest to swell as if she were challenging Max to do more. Damn. I was getting more and more turned on by the touch on my private parts, especially when I started squeezing my breasts, which were getting harder. I needed someone to bite me the way Max was biting the woman’s nipple. I needed the same touch on my pussy. And I also needed someone to kiss my lips as hard as that. I slowly opened my eyes when I heard footsteps heading toward the bathtub. Max brought the woman onto his body, sitting her on his lap while he kissed

It sounded nothing like what I'd experienced with Max. With Max, sex had been perfunctory at best, painful at worst. Quick, mechanical, focused entirely on his needs with no consideration for mine. I'd learned to dissociate during it, to mentally check out until it was over. The idea of actually enjoying it, of actively wanting it, had seemed impossible. But these women I was reading about—they wanted it. Craved it, even. Talked about counting down the days until their next heat cycle when their mates would knot them repeatedly over the course of several days. Described it as the most intense, pleasurable experience of their lives.

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.

They wore clothes that were too thin for March, their skin pale with cold or fear or both, and when the light hit them, they flinched back like beaten animals. My knees almost gave out. Almost. But I locked them, forced myself to stand, forced myself to breathe through the horror. The wire was recording this. Recording everything. These women's faces, their terror, their violation. "This is what we move, Mrs. Blackwood," Alexei said, his voice still conversational, still calm. "Women. Girls. They'll work for my associates in the Midwest. Brothels, massage parlors, private clients. Very profitable. Very reliable income stream."

THAT excited me tremendously, as well as our conversation, because it was a huge new 'beginning' of sorts in our sex life. That evening I went through my collection and picked out 'Behind the Green Door', the Marilyn Chambers flick where she is kidnapped by devotees of a sex club and forced into a group sexual encounter after being ravished by a black man. I was very pleased and also more than a bit surprised when Alexis agreed to view the film with me. I got everything ready in our bedroom upstairs - towels, pillows, vaseline, and got the film ready in the VCR. I was almost

My hips bucked forward involuntarily. She did it again. And again. Light, stinging flicks that made my cock jerk upward with every strike. Made my hips rock. Made my cock leak steadily onto the marble. Each flick sent a jolt straight to my core. Pain twisted into pleasure so fast I could not separate them. I moaned. Loud. Slutty. Broken. My cock was rock-hard now. Throbbing. Leaking. Aching for more even though every strike hurt like fire. “You got hard at that table,” she said. Voice calm. Almost conversational. “While they talked about keeping women on leashes. While they said wives should be broken early. While they said a good wife knows her husband’s word is law.”

three times in two weeks. Rachel, twenty-eight, who'd brought her husband for "erectile dysfunction therapy" and now came alone twice a week. Elena, twenty-five, whose boyfriend couldn't make her squirt....but Dr. Stone could, and now she was addicted to the sensation. They all knew why they were there. All knew what happened behind that closed office door. All knew they couldn't stop coming back. One by one, they were called in. One by one, they were thoroughly fucked.

Be honest, what’s the worst, filthiest thing you’ve ever done for money? I’ll give you a minute to think about that. Think very closely… Great, now I’ll tell you what mine is… sex. Filthy dirty sex where I was used like a whore and worse; it wasn’t even by a man. It was a woman. A powerful, rich woman who turned out to be exactly the kind of dirty fantasy my body had been craving for years.

I lost count of how many times I came. They flipped me onto all fours. Victoria pulled the plug out only to replace it with her strap-on, sliding into my ass in one slow, slick thrust while Elena lay beneath me, licking my clit and fucking herself with the double-ended dildo. The sounds were obscene… wet squelching, skin slapping, three women moaning and begging in one filthy rhythm. Finally, when we were trembling and covered in sweat and lube, Victoria pulled out slowly, the strap-on glistening. She kissed me softly, then Elena, and whispered against our lips…