Romans & histoires Spicy Stories For Women

She's cracking that resolve like it's made of glass. I rub my temple, replaying the moments that have been haunting me. Her constant questions during meetings, innocent enough on the surface, but delivered with that soft, curious voice that sends blood rushing south every time. "Mr. WhitFord, why did we pivot on the acquisition strategy?" she'd ask, her pen tapping against her full lower lip, drawing my eyes there against my will. I'd snap back something curt, my voice gruffer than necessary, just to mask the way my cock twitched at the sight of her. Grumpy? Hell yes. It's my shield against this insane possessiveness that's taken root. I don't do attachments. Women are distractions, temporar

Mara dropped into the window seat like her body weighed a thousand pounds. Three straight days of workshops, crisis calls, holding other people’s pain until her own felt numb. She needed these five hours. Just noise in her ears and nothing else. She pulled out her phone, plugged in her headphones, and opened the playlist. The private one. No title. Forty-seven tracks of the stuff she never let anyone see. Women moaning loud and broken, filthy commands, wet sounds, her own breathy voice in a few recordings where she’d touched herself and whispered every dirty thing she wanted but never asked for out loud.

Jennifer: Shrug emoji. I decided to take a different tack. This time, rather than pick safe, general stories, I chose a bunch of different categories and sent my favorites from each. One was romantic, about a couple falling in love. The next was about a wife who sleeps with another man. Another had a husband bringing in his best friend for a threesome. I chose one that had some bondage (not my thing, but I picked a story that was highly rated). I sent a Lesbian story and a Gay male one (again, I relied on the ratings). I linked a story about watching two people have sex in the woods, and one about a girl riding a sybian for the first time. I skipped two categories: nonconsent and incest. As

Two thick fingers pushed into my cum-filled pussy without warning. “Too dangerous?” he growled, pumping his fingers deep and fast. “Then why is this slutty little cunt still dripping for me?” I moaned, gripping the marble counter as he fingered me roughly. “I… I know I should stop… but I can’t. The way you fuck me… I’m addicted.” “That’s right,” he said darkly, curling his fingers against my G-spot. “You’re my dirty little secret now. Planning my wedding during the day and taking my cock like a whore at night.”

Lucas groaned beneath me, “and fuck her properly.” And that’s what they did. They took turns fucking every hole in my body until I was begging for mercy.... My name is Sylvia. I’m a widow in my forties, and these was my cum-stained confessions. Now tell me… did my words make you cum? Did you touch yourself while reading every filthy line I whispered. Did you spread your legs wide and imagine every one of those men using you the way they used me? Or was it the other way around?

"Very well-endowed. Twelve to fifteen inches. Some thick, some long, all intense." "And you understand I'm not just a stripper? This is full contact. Full penetration. Gangbang, multiple partners simultaneously, rough treatment." "That's exactly what we want. We've done this before with other girls, but our friend said you're different. That you actually enjoy it. That you get off on being shared." Emma smiled. "I do. Being passed between men, used, filled, treated like a toy.....it's my favorite thing in the world."

‎Anny's POV ‎I have been married to my husband Greg, for ten years now. With no kids. Greg and I have been trying to make babies for the past ten years but haven't been successful. ‎I love my dearest husband so much, but over the past few years, Greg has become almost inactive in bed. ‎I have relentless sexual hunger. I love having sex a lot. Since Greg has been unable to satisfy my sexual urge and fantasies, I've been forced to look for other alternatives, such as vibrators and masturbation.

"I thought you always hated the spicy foods, Miss." The carriage then stopped in front of the vegetablea market, "Well, I know from the books that spicy foods can help you live longer, clean your digestion, and make your skin glowing." Of course it was a lie. But, Cecilia has to find a way to keep her out from suspiscion. Mary jaw dropped, "Wow, is it true? That was so wonderful!" Cecilia smiled before she took off from her carriage. The ladies then happily searching for the chilies and it seeds.

Brownies. I haven’t seen any of them. And here were four. Gods, they were so cute. Reaching my knees in their high. Brownies were a bit chubby, with small button noses and warm brown eyes. Two bearded males and two females. Looking in human’s 40’. They were more like spirits of the house, not quite living creatures. Their magic was strong and let them properly do their purpose. “My lady.” one of the females gasped, seeing me. And the rest followed and bowed before vanishing.

Don't get it wrong. Sometimes stereotypes were spot on correct and sometimes they weren't. This was again, another case in Brianna Samuels. She wasn't one of those bitches that everyone knew about because of stereotypes, that lived for gossip and brought people down just so they felt better about themselves. Okay, well Brianna did live for gossip, but mostly the harmless type of gossip and she definitely did not live to step on people. The type of gossip she lived for would basically be classified as petty theft in contrast to murder. Basically who dated who and who's hot and whatnot.