Smuttiest Books Ever Novels & Stories

Gina said with her mouth full. Selena looked at her with a confused face. "Have you been reading more of those books?" She was referring to the books on Gina's desk that had weird titles like "How to properly unlock the door without the key." , "Speak like a smarty pants!" , "Who are you? I am the ugly world?" , "Books for people who are cops." And other titles. Selena didn't even want to think of how silly the contents were. Who on earth even wrote those books and where did Gina even get them?

After two days of high temperatures and intense boredom, he remembered the three books. Sam pulled out the one with the Mummy on the cover, because it looked the most innocuous. It was entitled the Ninth Pan Book of Horror Stories. He wasn’t the least bit prepared for what he found inside. The first three stories involved emasculation, murder and burning at the stake. In his fevered state Sam felt he was not only watching the characters’ suffering, he was experiencing it along with them. He flung the book at the wall and then hid it again, wishing he could burn it like Jinnot, the young girl in the third story who was burned alive.

My best friend Melissa giggled as I narrated my dream to her. “Now you are just making fun of me,” I said, embarrassed. “Haha, not really. I am glad you are excited about it, and I am looking forward to hearing about your first real orgasm, but I still feel sex is overrated.” She laughed. “Oh, then why do you have all those books hidden under your bed? It's smut, isn't it?” I smirked. Melissa gasped. “Holy shit, you saw my stash?” She burst into laughter. “Well I hate to disappoint you, but they are historical books on werewolves.”

It was here, amidst the hushed whispers of knowledge, that Jasmine’s life took an unexpected turn. She had come to return a book, a first edition of Pride and Prejudice that her grandmother had gifted her. It was irreplaceable, a piece of her family’s history, and she’d been meticulous about keeping it safe. But in her haste to grab a book on the top shelf, she’d accidentally swapped it with someone else’s. When she realized her mistake, she’d already left the library, and the book she’d taken home was not hers. The book she’d ended up with was a first edition of The Great Gatsby, its cover embossed with gold lettering.

It was just Hasmik and me in the common lounge, and she was curled up in the oversized armchair with her legs tucked under her, and a book spread open in one hand with a ridiculous grin on her face. If she wasn't gaming, she was reading. Not just any book, either. The smutty kind. The ones with half-naked men on the covers and titles that made me blush, just trying to sound them out in my head. She'd been trying, actively to get me into them. Left one on my bed last week like a trap. A big, glossy cover with glistening abs and a title that screamed bad decisions ahead. I'd stared at it for all of five minutes before shoving it under my pillow like it was cursed.

I wouldn’t know since I haven’t had any experience, the urge to tell him nips at me that this is like my first. But I don’t want to ruin the mood with my inexperience but am sure he wouldn’t care if I interrupt him either but then my embarrassing non existent sex Life seems to have catch up on me. It’s going to be fine! Smut books aren’t that far off from the truth, because at the end of the day… They do always fit inside!

Absolutely not. Furious that I left my phone, laptop, and speaker downstairs, I find myself with nothing to do. Do I have the patience for reading? No. Am I in the mood to read? Also no. Do I have anything else to do? Another no. Sighing deeply, I grab a book, plop down on the bed, and start reading my smutty novel. Smut is probably the last thing I should be reading right now, but it's the only thing available. And honestly, who doesn’t like smut?

Lila moaned, voice cracking. One demon slapped her face hard. “Look at your worthless husband, whore. He brought us to you so you'll take every inch of this.” His voice was dark and sounded like hell itself. They stroked their monstrous cocks right in front of her face. The precum poured out in thick ropes, hot, glowing, sticky like molten glue. It splattered across her cheeks, flooded her open mouth, coated her tongue, dripped from her eyelashes, ran into her ears, and painted her tits shiny. Lila stuck her tongue out like a desperate demon bitch, gurgling as they force-fed her the heads of their cocks. Her lips stretched painfully wide around one fat head while another slapped her face wit

“Unilag’s been choking the life out of me. Lectures bleeding into nights, group projects that go nowhere, the constant noise in my head. I couldn’t take it anymore. Came here to let the lagoon do its thing. Chill. Smoke. Forget the rest for a while.” We fell into it easily, words weaving between us like the smoke that soon followed. She spoke of dodging deadlines and professors who treated students like machines, her laughter breaking through when she described sneaking off campus mid-afternoon, heart pounding like she’d robbed a bank. I told her about the soul-sucking reports, the way time stretched thin under fluorescent lights. The blunt she pulled from her bag changed hands without cerem