Spicy Fiction Novels & Stories

He lit another cigarette, staring out the window into the quiet night. A tall figure appeared outside without warning. Conrad sprang to his feet and bolted out, desperate to reach the person. "Conrad, what are you doing? You're hurting me." "It's you?" It wasn't me. That was just Conrad's hallucination. The person standing before him was Jenny. Jenny frowned slightly, putting on a pitiful act. "Jean's been spreading rumors about me, Conrad. Now my reputation's ruined. Can you help me fix this?"

After a tense silence, Thomas finally sounded utterly defeated. “That’s enough! Stop! The rescue team is already on the way! “Just… go around, don’t come this way.” I exhaled sharply and yanked the wheel, turning the car around. I had gambled right. However, moments of relief were immediately replaced by a wave of heat even stronger than before. Smoke burned in my lungs, and all I could hear was the relentless crackling of the fire. I fought to control the car, spinning through flames and smoke, gripping the wheel with every ounce of strength.

Now. Instead of horror, a sick, intoxicating heat flooded my system. The taboo had just been reinforced with a steel frame. I looked at the bookshelf, imagining Silas on the other end, his expensive suit rumpled, his eyes wide with a depraved hunger. I wanted to destroy him with the sight of us.

I scrolled through the limited selection of DVDs—mostly action flicks and thrillers that made me know it was his taste, until one caught my eye. Fifty Shades of Grey. I'd heard about it from friends back home, all giggles and whispers about the steamy scenes, but I'd never watched it because of my sheltered life and all that. Tonight, with frustration bubbling under my skin and that lingering heat I felt from Viktor's earlier grab, it felt like the perfect rebellion. I popped it in, cranked the volume high to drown out the silence of the cabin, and settled onto the couch, pulling a blanket over my lap for some semblance of coziness.

Story 8: The Secretary’s Secret The next morning, Sophia arrived at the office building early, her body still deliciously sore and marked from the intense “Boss Test” the night before. Every step reminded her of how thoroughly Mr. Voss had used her. She had dressed exactly as instructed: a tight black pencil skirt that hugged her hips and ass, a silky cream blouse that clung to her full breasts, and sheer black stockings with matching heels. No panties. Her pussy was already tingling with nervous anticipation as she walked toward the private elevator that would take her to Mr. Victor Voss’s top-floor suite.

I let out a long, shaky breath and leaned against the wall, my heart still pounding. I grabbed my phone and opened W******p. **Me:** Oh my god he just left! Some emergency at work. He’s gone for the day. The package is literally arriving in a few minutes. I can’t believe it. I deleted my account already though… fuck. **HotFantasy88:** Good timing, baby. Breathe. You’re safe now. When the package gets there, take it inside, relax and tell me everything. I’ve got you. Maybe we can figure out a way for you to keep going without the risk.

“Maybe I do. Maybe I imagine a man who doesn’t ask and just takes. Fills me until I can’t walk straight the next day.” His eyes darkened. We talked for hours after that, circling each other with words that felt like foreplay. I asked about his business, his past, the women who vanished from his life. He answered just enough to keep me hooked, voice low and calm while his gaze stripped me bare. Every time I shifted in my chair my soaked panties rubbed against my clit and I had to fight not to grind down on it. Strange things kept nagging at me. The way the light in the room seemed to be around him. How the clock on the wall skipped minutes when I looked away.

I should bury deep in my mind all the lustful thoughts I have. “Are you sure it’s okay?" He raised an eyebrow at me because of my question, so I went further. “I mean, your wife. Will it not be an issue to her?" He shook his head and smirked. “You’re our daughter’s best friend. Of course she wouldn’t think badly about it.” Oh. Okay, if that’s what you say. When we entered his room, a spice scent flowed through my nose. It smells like him. So manly and sexy as fuck.

He followed a second later, spilling inside me with a low groan. We collapsed together on the desk, breathing hard, sweat dripping down our wet bodies. I felt some liquid touch my cheek. When I looked up, I saw that Mr. Sinclair was now close to me, wet cream shooting from his cap. I brought my tongue out and his sloppy dick slid into my mouth. I licked his cap clean, swallowing his cum. When he was satisfied he stood back, tucking himself back into his slacks. "Well," he said with a chuckle. "That was certainly an interesting way to end the workday."

He felt his finger twitch, as if they were asking him to run them along Spade's ass. He cleared his throat and looked away quickly, what was suddenly going on with him? He'd never had such obscene thoughts before, not once in all his life Thoughts about things like that sometimes repulsed him, in the past whenever he thought about things like that, he would almost wanna throw up, his skin would crawl in disgust and a very painful and sour memory would surface, but now all he could think about was how thrilling it would feel to explore something like that, not just that but to explore it with Spade.