Short Fiction Adults Novels & Stories

These were just fantasies. This went on for over six months. I would come home from work, shower, fix a little dinner, and then sit down at my laptop to watch sex videos, read stories like Poppy’s secret confession or other sex stories about daddy’s, or cruise the M2M ads, looking for the excitement that came from these fantasies. I had discovered a local M2M chat room and would chat with guys, telling them my fantasies. Most were either looking for the same thing or didn't want to waste time chatting once they knew I was scared to actually try anything.

These two big twenty year old boys staring at me like I had lost my damn mind only made the fire between my legs burn hotter. “What are you, kids?” I said, voice dripping thick with pure lust while I looked them both dead in the eyes. “We’re all adults here. Nobody else is coming home tonight. Your mom is gone until tomorrow at least. I’m so fucking horny right now I can’t even think straight.Touch me boys. I need it badly. Feel how wet my pussy is just from sitting next to you.” Ryan’s face went even redder, eyes wide as he stared straight at my bare tits then quickly looked away like he was ashamed.

Marcus leaned back against the desk crossing his arms so the fabric pulled tight across his chest. “Predatory depends on consent Sarah. If both parties are adults and they want it, who the hell are we to judge the heat between them? Take these classic stories. The men aren’t saints. They’re flawed hungry bastards who see something they crave and go after it. The women aren’t victims either. They’re dripping for it. Wet and reckless because the forbidden touch sets their skin on fire.” Fuck. My face burned. I uncrossed my legs and felt a slick rush between them. The way he said dripping made my clit throb.

I picked a thriller, but as it started, Ryan stretched out, his arm draping behind me. His thigh brushed mine, and sparks shot through me. I could smell his clean soap scent, mixed with something masculine that made my mouth water. Halfway through, the plot twisted into something steamier. The main characters, a couple on the run, ended up in a motel room. The screen filled with them kissing, hands roaming. The woman pushed the man against the wall, her fingers tugging at his shirt. He growled and flipped her around, yanking her skirt up. My breath hitched as he exposed her ass, spanking it lightly before sliding his hand between her legs.

The basement was quiet except for our breathing. "Still think we're immature?" Mitch murmured. I laughed, weak and satisfied. "You're still idiots." "Your idiots," Hans corrected, and I didn't argue. My body still hummed with aftershocks, and the knowledge of what we had just done. I had just allowed my three younger sinfully loaded Stepbrothers fuck me in the best way ever. And I didn't regret any single moment of it. If anything, I wanted a second round with all three of them making love with me like I was the only person that mattered. This was definitely going to be the best thanksgiving ever.

Pinky squinted to read it, her eyes tracing the loops and crosses. "Collection of short stories for ladies," the title read. "Stories of desire, of awakening, of the first time." Pinky blinked, her eyes widening as she read on. The handwriting was feminine, secretive, as if the writer were sharing her most guarded thoughts with only the pages. It was a confession. A revelation. As she began to read.

Marcus said flatly, and Jesse frowned feeling Marcus shift again, the bed groaning under his weight. “Hey,” Jesse muttered, “Ever think about how if we die tomorrow, we’ll never get laid again?” Marcus frowned like Jesse had said something insulting. “You really wanna do this now?” “I’m just saying… if we die tomorrow, I don’t wanna go out with blue balls.”. Jesse rolled to face him while Marcus stared intently at the ceiling in silence. “I mean, come on,” Jesse continued, sitting up and unsure if the conversation was hitting any nerves because of how silent Marcus had gone. “It’s not like there are rules anymore. We’ve literally murdered the undead. What’s a little end-of-days d—”

In the next series, it will be an explosive and infuriatingly hardcore Gay short erotica stories compilation where filthy boys and dangerously hungry men chasing the very thing they shouldn’t crave. They just want to be ruined, reshaped and overly pleased because their bodies bleed and burn with an obsession that runs deeper for any cure, except one. High voltage desires to have their tight cracks shed apart, rimmed with sizes they never imagined exist and their girths straining, covered with slick. You’ll be left glancing through the pages in the most hidden corner of the world where no one would see you squirming. If you will be reading with a partner, fair warning: you’ll either test thei

I adore you more than words can say 18+ only, please 🔥 This story is intended for mature readers and will contain adult themes. With all my love, Your slightly sassy, very grateful author 💋💖

The sensation I got from his teeth on my n**ple was top notch and I couldn't stop him. Edwin took off my jean shorts, revealing my properly shaved p**sy. Without hesitating, he slid in one of his fingers and thrusted them in and out in a swift motion. I moaned with intense passion, my hands trying to get hold of his erect c**k that almost burst through his trousers. Then, Edwin took the plate we had used for the salad. He spread my legs apart and laid between them. He poured the leftover liquid milk on my cl*t and licked it off.