Short Dirty Sex Stories Novels & Stories

Two more men stepped out of the shadows both masked, they were very already hard. Her heart stopped beating, heat shooting through her at the same time. No one had said anything about this, she just thought it was one man. She had come here because she was tired of having the regular sex all the time, with boys who did not know what to do with her clit or nipple. She wanted it rough and hard but this was more than she bargained. The first man grabbed her hair. “Open your mouth” She obeyed before she could rub her head around what to do. His cóck filled her throat instantly, making her gag, spit running down her chin. The other two stood close, watching, stroking themselves as her lips stretc

Well, I know I’ve been long in setting up my little story here, but this is where our story gets interesting. After one of those aforementioned “hard days of work,” I went to the local watering hole with my best friend Stacy. We had always been close; we roomed together in college, and now we’re both personal trainers, so she felt my plight when it came to nights like this. I was throwing back wines like it was going out of style which always seemed to be occurring on half-price wine Wednesdays while listening to Stacy tell some of her racy and risqué stories of conquest. Stacy had taken to catering to the good-looking sector of our clientele and had taken to seducing them. She noted how “it

She was looking over my shoulder at the same wall and reading some of them softly under her breath. “Hmmm, look at this one,” I said. “This person seems to have described our date last week in perfect detail.” It was a story about a woman who liked to be spanked and punished. “I like this one,” Carrie said, pointing to another. “I really think we should try and work this one into our next date.” The story was about a couple who arranged to act like strangers and meet up at a trashy bar and pick each other up. There were long descriptions about them fucking in the back of the bar as the guys playing pool watched and stroked their cues.

“Fantasy? I imagine a guy taking me at work, in the office bathroom. He pins me against the sink, hikes up my skirt, and shoves his fingers into my wet pussy, fingering me hard while I bite my arm to keep from screaming. Then he fucks me from behind, slapping my ass while I cum. No condom, filling me with cum until it drips down my legs. Fuck, Marcos, I’m going crazy just talking about it.” They laughed together now—dirty, loaded laughs—their bodies inching closer on the filthy floor. The air was thick with lust, the smell of sweat and arousal mingling like a forbidden perfume. Marcos told another story, about a fuck in a dark alley, pounding a chick against the wall while it rained, water m

To be Continued… SEX WITH THE DEVIL

She licked the sweat from his throat and promised worse. The obsession sharpened in every city. Budapest: sex in the shadowed alley behind the opera house minutes before curtain, his hand over her mouth, strangers twenty feet away. Amsterdam: a midnight canal boat where he bent her over the rail and fucked her while tourists drifted past on another boat, close enough to touch. Barcelona: he tied her spread-eagle to the bedposts with the silk sashes from hotel robes and used a wand on her clit until she was speaking in tongues, then flipped her over and took her ass until she blacked out for three blissful seconds.

I was breathing slowly and evenly, completely knocked out after the marathon of that raw rough sex with those long massive cocks I took in the night. And Kai on the other hand just lay down in the fresh bed he made him self after taken off the cum socked one, but he was still unable to find real peace this night. He tossed and turned, the images of the night replaying relentlessly in his mind, the hot raw rough sex together with all my loud moans, and the way my pussy always stretched around the stranger’s longer cock, how I had even begged and screamed while being double-penetrated, how I was praising the stranger’s long cock and still asking for more of it and how I had squeezed my own tit

His length stays upright, standing tall as a blatant dare. I crawl over his waist, leaning down to press a quick, mocking kiss to the tip before positioning myself over his thigh. Now I just want to see how far I can push him. How much of that calm, stubborn control I can strip away. “Tell me a Bible story, Brock,” I whisper, slowly guiding his tip to my aching cunt. “I heard you used to be quite the storyteller in your youth.” I lower myself onto him, but I stop halfway. I refuse to take the full length. When dealing with a man who can split you in half, holding back is the only way to survive.

She looked comfortable, like she owned the place. “Getting late, Matt,” she said softly. “You look tense. Why don’t you tell me a story? Or better yet, let me tell you one.” She started talking in that low, husky voice. Stories about late-night deals, fast cars, and men who thought they could control her. Every one had a dirty edge. How she once made a rival boss beg on his knees. How power felt better when it came with pleasure. Matt listened, pretending it was just work, but his dick stayed rock hard the whole time.

“Good girl.” They didn’t talk about it. Late nights became quickies. She’d come home from a closing shift at 1 a.m., horny and restless. He’d be on the couch scrolling his phone. She’d straddle him without preamble—shorts shoved aside, his sweatpants pushed down just enough. Sink onto his cock right there, ride him fast and quiet until they both came—her biting his shoulder to muffle the moans, him gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.