Sexy Steamy Stories Novels & Stories

"Coach, please stop. I came here to learn how to drive, not to have an affair." Inside the instructor's car, because I kept failing to control the clutch, Coach Reeves, who happened to be my husband's friend, made me sit on his lap to teach me. The problem was, I was wearing a short skirt that day, and underneath it, I wasn't even wearing safety shorts. Even worse, he actually pulled his member out and pressed it straight against me.

On a bunk bed that's installed in the back of the truck, my husband, Dylan Gallagher, kisses me passionately while groping me incessantly. "Honey, I'm definitely taking you with me to work all the time." I can only squirm awkwardly beneath him. "B-Be gentle with me, geez…" Then, I look in the direction of the top bunk, where a certain someone is spying on us from behind the bed…

My husband, Kylan Beck, brings his colleague, Daniel Willis, home with him. He claims that Daniel and his wife aren't compatible with each other in bed, which has completely wrecked Daniel's confidence and pride as a man. As a result, he gets kicked out of his house by his wife. One day, Kylan has gone on a business trip to another city. That's when Daniel secretly climbs into my bed with gleaming eyes. "Ashley, can you help me prove to my wife that my capabilities in bed aren't the problem here?"

As I bent over to do the laundry, a man suddenly pressed himself against me from behind, thrusting me forward into the washing machine. My hips were left exposed to the open air, held firmly in the grasp of his hands. I was trapped, unable to move. His large hands roamed freely over my body, sending waves of heat coursing through me against my will. Pleasure shuddered through my limbs, making my legs tremble uncontrollably. When I finally managed to look back, I saw—to my shock—that the man behind me was my father-in-law.

"Ouch, that hurts!" Underneath the bright lights, the man makes me lie facedown on the bed. Then, he pushes my waist down from behind, seemingly looking for the best spot. I feel something odd press against me and cry out, telling him to stop. He doesn't, though. In fact, he grabs hold of my belt.

"Mr. Hamilton, do you have something long and hard? Can I borrow it?" On a spring outing with my daughter, Maddison Hamilton, her best friend, Braelynn Hudson, suddenly asked me that question with a blush. She sat facing me on the grass, her legs spread wide. "The bugs in the grass must've crawled into my skirt. It's driving me crazy... Mr. Hamilton, do you have a stick? Can you scratch it for me?" Looking at her alluring body and snow-white legs, I felt the heat boiling within me. Taking advantage of Maddison's inattention, I quickly pulled down my pants. "What's so comfortable about a stick? I have something better here."

"Mmm… No… You can't touch this part…" In the car dealership, my client drives around in his new car with his right hand resting on my thick and supple thigh. Slowly, he begins hiking my miniskirt upward. I'm a beautiful saleswoman working in the shop. Now I'm wearing a pair of crotchless black stockings and a short pencil skirt. The catch is, I'm going commando beneath my skirt. Truthfully speaking, I'm already flooding down there thanks to the client's touch…

The day before yesterday, my best friend invited me to a date at a bar. I later end up sleeping with a younger man. I never would've expected him to be my son's classmate, though…

"I… I can't hold it. I need to use the bathroom." The flight attendant in the interview slumps in her chair. Her face is twisted in pure agony. I've secretly fitted the chair with a vibrator, so the moment I press the switch, it jerks and rattles unpredictably. As I watch their faces turn red and their bodies tremble uncontrollably, a sense of supreme satisfaction washes over me. To my astonishment, one of the flight attendants hitches up her uniform skirt and insists I attend to her needs on the spot. …

"This feels… incredible… you really know how to handle women…" I'm a figure photographer. Through my lens, I had handled countless women in their most seductive and lascivious moments. The women in my lens, no matter who they were before, always became top-tier models, because I trained each and every one of them. In a dimly lit room, a woman knelt on the bed, completely exposed. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hazy. The only thing still held high was the curve of her hips, lifted firmly in my grasp…