Sex Stories Group Novels & Stories

No one knows what’s going on behind closed doors. Dorothy and Melissa are both Bisexuals which was known to few friends that also indulge in the peculiar sex of a thing. It’s more like a clique. Or a sex club. No one is in a relationship with anyone and they are free to have sex with one another any time any day. Every meeting, they all indulge in orgies that are really crazy. The sex club is a secretive society with just selected few members on board. And anyone who wants to join has to do weird and crazy things before becoming a member.

They collapsed onto the cold and sticky floor of Laura's apartment, their sweaty and intertwined bodies falling into an exhausted tangle of limp limbs and marked skins, the wooden floor creaking under their collective weight as if protesting against the abuse it had just witnessed, now covered in a viscous layer of semen, juices, and sweat that formed irregular and shiny puddles under the faint light of the nearly extinguished vanilla candles. The humid and oppressive air of the place was saturated with the raw and unmistakable smell of group sex—a earthy cocktail of salty cum mixed with sweet and musky juices, acrid male sweat, and the residual stench of improvised oil, creating a dense fog

They were now standing as naked as the day they were born in front of their best friend's wife with raging erections. Lauren gasped as she saw their cocks jump out and stand at attention. She couldn't believe that she was about to have these three handsome men make love to her. In that moment she realised she was thinking back to a conversation she had back in college with her sorority sisters about their sexual fantasies and she had told them she had always wanted to have sex with a group of men at once, and now that fantasy was about to become reality.

He commanded with a strict tone. "Yes Sir," The girl walked out and Ryan scoffed in disgust. 8:25 PM [club twenty strip] Shelby was sitting on the bar stool taking shots. She kept drinking after drinking till she got drunk. The club she was in was mainly for people who loves clubbing and strippers. The club got so so many naked girls and boys going their stuffs to get money. The club was strictly 20+, a club where the rich catch fun. The club was running illegally with prostitutes and naked strippers

The group chat had been buzzing for weeks: six authors, all women in their late twenties to early thirties, finally coordinating an in-person meetup after years of online collaboration. They’d been workshopping an anthology of interconnected erotica stories—steamy, character-driven pieces that blurred lines between desire, power, and vulnerability. Zainab had been the quietest in the group, always thoughtful with her feedback, never flashy, but when the venue discussion stalled (hotels too expensive, coffee shops too public), she typed the offer without overthinking it.

He hadn’t spoken to Douglas in years, but that hadn’t seemed to bother his old friend. They’d talked for quite some time about Rowena and her situation. Douglas had convinced him to trust that she knew what she needed and had recommended ‘Healing Sex: The Right Approach to Healing Sexual Trauma’ a book that encourages women recovering from sexual abuse to live a normal sexual life again and teaches them how to say ‘yes’ to their own sexual desires and on their own terms. He’d bought it immediately and had been racing through it, trying to nail down a game plan before contacting Rowena. There was no doubt… He’d be consulting it frequently and he wasn’t even halfway through.

"What the hell are you talking about? He was being disrespectful to my girlfriend. He was crossing a line that he knew was there and he was doing it on purpose. That has nothing to do with trusting you. That has everything to do with not trusting him." "It's the same thing!" she yells. "I am a groupie, Rowen. Don't you get it? I have had sex with almost every guy in that room." "Stop," I say quietly. "Dirty, filty, depraved, sometimes voyeuristic sex with almost all of them." "Stop." "Their dick. My pussy. Connecting. Sometimes their dick and my face. Sometimes their dick and my...."

“Nobody enters this room. Nobody takes what is yours. Do you hear me, Bela? Nobody.” I looked into his eyes, seeing the boy who had bled for me in the rain and the Don who was preparing to marry for an empire. “M-Mine…?” I asked, my voice wavering with so much pleasure and anger. “What’s mine, Seb?” Seb’s eyes darkened. He grabbed my hand and pressed my palm against his chest, then slowly, he guided me down his swollen crotch. “All of me…” he whispered, pressing my palm on his cock. “Even my soul, Bela.”

She squirted and screamed in ecstasy as load after load filled and covered her. I claimed her repeatedly, reasserting dominance. Rough anal while others watched. Fisting her in front of the group. The night was a blur of extreme group sex, chains of bodies, cum play, lactation feeding, double and triple penetration on Elena and the other women. We secured the alliance through sin. New money flowed. New lies were layered.

Someone slides underneath me and sucks hard on my clit while others continue fingering me and abusing my sensitive nipples. I cum again. And again. Each orgasm different, more shattering than the last. My juices drip down my thighs. The sheets are soaked. I’m a trembling, submissive mess. Blindfolded. Owned. Addicted. Just as I feel another devastating climax building, I hear the bedroom door open again. More footsteps. More soft feminine laughter. “Oh fuck…” I whimper. Vanessa laughs low and wicked, fingers still buried deep inside me, curling relentlessly. “The rest of the group just arrived, baby. Twenty of us in total tonight. And we’re not stopping until sunrise. Your husband won’t reco