Stealthy Stories Novels & Stories

The fact I was about to live out my long yearned fantasy… or the fact that it was with strangers that didn’t bother with names. I was naked. A sharp breath sliced the air…from who? I wasn’t sure “You’re so sexy,”Mr Cinnamon whispered in my ear. He smelt like cinnamon,hence the name. Cinnamon, green eyes, brown hair…strangers yet I had a feeling I would never forget these strangers for the rest of my life. Every doubt I might have harbored vanished the second I felt cinnamon’s fingers graze my folds. “And you’re so wet..” his breath was heavier

️WARNING; This book contains explicit contents, dripping, taboo sex across many forbidden dynamics: professors and students, nannies and employers, plumbers and clients, doctors and patients, bosses and assistants, neighbors, strangers, and more. Here, lovers cross boundaries they once swore never to approach. Power shifts in the dark. Taboos are tested, then broken with deliberate pleasure. Some stories burn hot and fast—raw, urgent, and unforgettable. Others linger in the quiet aftermath, where the body still hums and the heart begins to renegotiate its terms. Turn the pages if you're ready to burn! Dear sinner.

But as we ran through the questions in his penthouse kitchen, one particular question caught my attention. I was very curious. "Why marriage now?". I asked, reading from the list. "You've been single for years. Why finally settle down?". Roman leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. "I tell them I met the right person". "That's not enough. They'll push". "They always push". He said, stepping closer to me. "But they can't break a story that's true". "Except it's not true". I countered. He was very close now. Too close that I could smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body. "It doesn't matter what's true. It matters what we sell them".

Kinks: Blindfolding, Dominance/Submission, Restraint, Rough Sex] Elena Morello had always lived in a world ruled by power and silence. Her father, Stephen, was a titan of real estate. His name was heard in penthouses and boardrooms. But everything collapsed the night Dante Crores appeared—a figure who tore through her father’s empire with cold focus. She had heard the rumors: Dante was ruthless, a man who commanded obedience without raising his voice. No one crossed him.

I whispered again. Kissing Tania’s cheek, I gently spoke into her ear. “Are you alright Tania?” She finally stirred, and then opened her eyes. “That was the best experience I’ve ever had, how did you learn to do that?” “Oh, it’s something I read about in an erotic story,” I lied. Putting her arms around my neck, she whispered, “Fuck me, fuck me hard.”

“You can’t blackmail me.” The other woman snorted before pointing out, “I wasn’t blackmailing you. I was stating a fact.” “What do you aim to achieve from your facts?” Steph finds the conversation ridiculous but still asked. The other woman shrugged her shoulders before she said stubbornly, “What you aim to achieve. Ask yourself if it is worth it.” Stella and Steph had a history. Both were bisexual, and more than once, the two had sex. From his office, Robert had seen Stellaleave in a hurry towards Steph’s office and followed silently.

Her husband ran out just as her pursuer pulled up,jumped from his car and yelled:'Lady,there's A MAN WITH A KNIFE HIDING IN YOUR BACKSEAT! I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

"Give us a mystery! Give us a heist! Give us a plot that isn't about who I'm sleeping with!" I lunged for the Anchor just as the silver arrows struck the stone. The combination of my "Editor" energy and the conductive silver created a backdraft of pure, white-hot narrative force. The clones shattered into glass shards. The purple mist was sucked back into the pillar. And then, the voice of the Author changed. It went from a scream to a glitchy, distorted whisper. “Fine. You want a different story? You want a mystery? Then find the Architect. Book Two: The Silent Kingdom. Coming... never.”

Sperm mixed with ice cream was one of the most weird and most delicious combinations I've ever tasted in a long time. Before I could spell Jack Robinson, a being was already snoring beside me. I looked at him, admired how innocent he was, and smiled. I joined him in the bed and slept off. I couldn't fuck my brother on my first attempt; sucking his cock made him weak. He must be a virgin. I was a virgin as well. Watching p**n and reading erotic stories taught me everything I knew about sex and had failed on various occasions to initiate myself into womanhood. My last attempt was with Phillips. I had tasted only his lips, but I had stopped halfway. He was horrible. Very horrible with his finge

You’re straining against the ropes now, not to escape, but to feel more, to see how far I’ll take you. I lean close, my lips brushing your ear. “You like that, don’t you?” I murmur, my voice low, a velvet blade. “You’re wondering what else I’ve got for you.” I pull the knife away, setting it aside, and grab a Sharpie from my bag. I pop the cap with my teeth, the sound sharp in the quiet room, and scrawl my name across your chest in bold, looping letters. A claim you’ll feel long after the ink fades. Then I take the marker itself—thick, unyielding plastic—and press it against you, sliding it in with a slow twist. Your breath hitches, your legs shaking as I work it deeper. Ever done this befor