Sexy Neighbor Stories Novels & Stories

Every touch sent warmth rushing through my body. The red lace suddenly felt too thin beneath his gaze. Too revealing. But Sebastian touched me like he admired every inch of me. Like I was something precious. Something dangerous. The storm outside shook the windows while his mouth traveled slowly along my neck again. I buried my fingers into his shoulders, completely overwhelmed by how good he made me feel. No one had ever kissed me like this before. No one had ever looked at me like they were terrified of wanting me too much. And somehow… That made this even more dangerous.

The touch lingers. I shift, pressing my thighs together. My pussy is already getting wet. This is ridiculous. They’re just being nice. But my body hasn’t been touched properly in weeks, and something about the way they look at me—like they can see straight through my polite smiles—makes me clench. Clara sets her wine down and scoots closer on my other side. “Let’s help you relax. Tell us what you really need out here.” The conversation drifts. They share stories about the other wives in the neighborhood. The secret parties. The way certain husbands travel and certain wives… entertain themselves. Their laughter is low and knowing.

Alex stood in the doorway, suitcase still in hand, his eyes locked directly on the obscene sight in front of him, his wife bent over their living room couch, completely naked, while their neighbor Marcus fucked her hard from behind. Marcus’s thick cock was buried deep inside Emma’s dripping pussy, stretching her wide with every brutal thrust. The wet, filthy sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. For a terrifying second, everything froze. But instead of rage or shock, a dark, hungry gleam filled Alex’s eyes. His jaw tightened, and something dangerously aroused crossed his face.

Seduced. The elevator opened into a room lit in dim amber tones. Velvet walls. A faint hint of cinnamon and sex in the air. In the center, a woman in a silk robe sat behind a low glass desk, expression unreadable. “Sienna Thomas,” the woman said. “Strip.” Sienna blinked. “What?” “No names, no phones, no clothing. You will wear what we give you. Refusal terminates the contract.” Sienna didn’t remember signing a contract—but her heartbeat betrayed her. She wanted to know what was behind that next door. What the hell this was.

Every tug, every suck, every pinch sent sparks straight down between my legs. I could feel myself getting wet, my pussy starting to throb and ache. The shame made it worse. I was standing on the path to an old haunted mansion with my shirt up and my breasts out while my friends played with me like it was nothing. Cassie pinched my right nipple harder, pulling it outward. “Look at how hard they are already. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Sophia?” I bit my lip harder, trying not to make a sound. Kendall sucked deeper on my left nipple, her teeth grazing the tip just enough to make my breath hitch.

Ch-1 --------------------- [Warning: this story is in the 'incest' category. As a result, the mother and son in this tale might have a relationship which you might find unsettling. At the end, when they kiss each other goodnight, neither of them has to go to another bedroom. The father already sleeps there.]

Rachel is married and straight. At least, that’s what she keeps telling herself. But Kristen, her bold and sexy new neighbour, doesn’t play innocent. She watches Rachel like she owns her, talks like she knows exactly what Rachel needs. And the moment Kristen spreads her thighs, Rachel stops pretending. She wants what no man ever gave her. She craves Kristen’s pussy. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The sting of being stood up was still there, but sitting across from this stranger — this man with kind eyes and a nervous little smile — it didn’t feel quite so heavy. They started talking. Awkward at first, then easier. He told her he owned a little bookshop. She told him she was an architect. The conversation moved fast, jumping from terrible dating stories to why certain buildings felt alive and others didn’t. Every time he laughed at something she said, her stomach flipped. The table was small. Too small. Their knees kept brushing. Each time it happened she felt that pulse between her thighs again. Stronger. She was getting wet. Actually wet, just from knees touching and the way he look

WARNING! THIS IS A NON-CONSENSUAL STORY. PLEASE BE WARNED. IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE IT AVOID THIS PARTICULAR STORY. As I mentioned, I write based on the prompts readers give if it's not too extreme. This doesn't mean the author supports this in real life. Note: There are limits I won't cross when writing these collections, so when you request a certain story, don't cross a certain line. I won't write it. CHAPTER 1 The bar smelled like spilt beer and old cigarettes. A few people were scattered around the tables. It was late August, and most of the town was at the county fair.

This is it. I was about have sex on my kitchen island with a man I met a few days ago. Nothing crazy about that of course. I tried not to think about it too much, so I mainly focused on my body and how much on fire it was. Tristan was a great kisser, that's for sure. The way he gripped the back of my neck with one hand and my waist with the other drove me crazy. The way he moved his lips in a rhythmic manner on mine pushed my feelings to a certain ecstatic high that was enough to drive me insane.