Smuttiest Books Ever Novels & Stories

"Good slut. Sleep now, dream of me using you." Dawn crept, pain throbbing constant reminder. Mia knocked— "Up yet?" I panicked, Jax slipping out window quiet, cock print on my mind. Dressed slow, pussy leaking cum down thighs, sore walk to kitchen. His eyes met mine over coffee, smirk promising: "Anytime." Dirty heat simmered weekend far from done, brother's claim deeper. But guilt twisted with lust Mia chatting clueless, her brother’s cum inside me. He cornered me later by sink, hand under skirt quick fingers sliding folds, parting open. "Shh, anytime quickie," growled dirty.

“Books don’t talk back. They don’t expect small talk. I like the order. And the stories. What about you? History major with a focus on obscure trade? That’s not common.” I shrugged even though he couldn’t see it. “I like knowing how people lived before everything got loud. Plus, it’s an excuse to hide in here. Away from parties and drama.” “Smart girl,” he murmured. The way he said it made my stomach flip. Time passed. Maybe twenty minutes. We talked about everything and nothing. My terrible roommate. His awful coffee from the faculty lounge. How the basement always felt colder than the rest of the building. Our voices got softer, more comfortable. The dark made it easier somehow. Like we we

No penetration, but I would be okay with kissing someone and maybe some foreplay. By the time dinner rolled around, Tara and I were clutching our sides from laughing so hard. I found out that Tara Loved Smut Books. She told me the Smuttier the better. She even let me look at some of the books she brought with her, and she told me I could borrow to read any one of them that I want. I picked out one called ‘For Whom The Belle Tolls’ by Jaysea Lynn and Tara said I would love that one, and it’s one of her newest favorites.

The voice is deep, and although refined, sounds dangerous. Then I hear another voice------ voices I mean. “She’s trembling.” “She’s ready.” “Slut already knows what she came for.” Slut. That words that's an insult to some makes my breath hitch, and my thighs clench together. I have never been normal, and although I'm ashamed of my needs and urges, that's exactly why I'm here; to do sick, degrading things that normal people will throw up at. Pain makes me quiver, humiliation makes me leak pussy juices down my legs and degrading words bring me pure, dirty pleasure.

“We thought your… stalker might’ve gotten to you.” I snort, attempting humor that tastes bitter in my mouth. “Ha-ha.” I bend to grab the books I tossed and shove them back into the shelf, wanting to erase their very existence. Tempting Him and Kamasutra: Teacher’s Edition. My cheeks burn. I never, ever want to see them again. That was… catastrophic. Humiliating. Surely, that couldn't have gone any worse. “You okay?” Sam asks, tilting his head, confusion and concern mixing in his eyes.

One thing I hate about my job is the amount of dicks you get to see... like dick here dick there. The worst part? Is if you're assigned permanently to the andropause section. As a healthy straight, single woman who doesn't have constant sex, it's pure hell. You get to see thick veiny big erect sausages that you have to touch. And not touch in the way you'd want to. Honestly I didn't know the prostate section was gonna be pure temptation. It paid higher which was why I took it but now I'm beginning to regret it.

Lust, in all its raw, unfiltered glory. She drops her hand and goes to stand in front of the mirror, her eyes on her reflection as she unbuttons her top. “You know, Minny, while I was watching my husband fuck you like a rabid animal--might I add--the strangest thing happened.” Her top slides off her shoulders, revealing her huge breasts barely covered by her demi cup bra. “I’ve never considered myself attracted to women but there’s just something about you that’s so innocent. It drives one to possess,” she says, her eyes meeting mine through the mirror. “To corrupt.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart, and it’s not book p**n. It’s called smut.” “Smut,” I repeat. “Such a fancy way to say p**n, huh?” I tilt my head, still holding the book out of her reach. “So tell me, what’s the smut doing to you?” “Kai, stop.” She pauses, eyes narrowing like a warning. She’s too mad at me for the shit I’m about to pull, but I don’t really care. It’s either this or I let her bury herself in her precious smut while pretending I don’t exist, probably imagining the two of us as the lead characters anyway.

“I love reading.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re reading sex, aren’t you?” “Ew! God, no,” I shot back, trying not to laugh. “It’s a good book—with just a little smut.” “Mmm-hmm,” she hummed, amused. “Can I read it then?” “What? Hell no!” My cheeks flushed instantly. She tisked and shook her head. “You’re reading smut.” I groaned. “You’re so annoying.”

I say, hoping it helps. “We need to figure out which books to order. It’s pointless building it if it’s going to be empty,” Jax laughs. I nod in agreement, though most of her books seem to be pure smut based on the covers and her social media. I wouldn’t know for sure since I haven’t tried reading them.