Novel & Cerita Stories Online Erotica

Layla let out a fresh moan, her voice raspy and tired but full of desire. They spent the next hour exploring every part of her, moving from the sofa to the soft rug on the floor. Her breasts were squeezed and kissed until they were flushed red, and her thighs were bruised from the grip of their hands. She felt like a queen in the middle of her own private storm. Every time one man finished, another was ready to take his place, keeping the fire burning bright. By the time the lights in the club started to dim and the morning was close, Layla was completely spent. She lay on the floor, her hair a mess and her body glowing with the remnants of their passion. The three men sat around her, lookin

We both were getting horny watching the p**n. He found one that had like ten minutes of massive black cocks shooting loads onto white babes faces and into their mouths. I said I loved that kind of stuff, huge cocks and facials. He said "Yeah I hear you. I wish we had some babes here for some relief." I nodded and agreed. I said "Well there's always your hand." Chris laughed and said "I guess so." We kept scrolling through p**n and now were fondling our packages. I don't know how I got the nerve, or the stupidity maybe, but it was likely the weed. I blurted out "You don't have to use your hand. You just can't tell anyone." Chris looked at me like WTF and mustered only a soft "What??"

She was slick, her folds swollen and glistening, and the cool air against her heated flesh made her shiver. He didn't hesitate. He lowered his head and buried his face between her legs. Sariel cried out, her back bowing off the bed. His tongue was a brand, lapping at her with a precision that was supernatural. He knew her body better than she knew it herself. He found her clit and circled it, sucked it, worshipped it with a relentless focus that had her seeing stars. He slid two fingers inside her, curling them, stroking that perfect, hidden spot that made her whole world narrow to the point of his touch.

Well, I know I’ve been long in setting up my little story here, but this is where our story gets interesting. After one of those aforementioned “hard days of work,” I went to the local watering hole with my best friend Stacy. We had always been close; we roomed together in college, and now we’re both personal trainers, so she felt my plight when it came to nights like this. I was throwing back wines like it was going out of style which always seemed to be occurring on half-price wine Wednesdays while listening to Stacy tell some of her racy and risqué stories of conquest. Stacy had taken to catering to the good-looking sector of our clientele and had taken to seducing them. She noted how “it

He thrusts his fingers in and out slowly, making my orgasm build embarrassingly quick. Gavin thrusts a little faster, leaning over to whisper. "Do you like that babygirl?" I bite my lip and nod my head slowly. He smiles, and whispers. "Do you want to cum on my fingers babygirl? Let me taste you!" A soft moan escapes my lips and I close my eyes, nodding my head. He thrusts a little faster, pressing hard on my clit and my eyes fly open. Oh fuck. I'm going to cum, on the couch, watching a scary movie, with my brother's dad's fingers inside me. The worst part, I am loving everything he is making me feel right now.

The plain cover hid the pages and pages of pictures Tara had found in her explorations into the darker side of the internet. Halfway through she found the high-resolution black-and-white photographs she adored, the ones with a pair of red lips barely touching the head of a stiff cock or a woman pushed down onto a plush bed by a man taking her from behind. Often she had fantasies develop around these pictures, ones she typed down for her blog - ones she brought with her to bed late at night. She looked at a picture of a tall strong man holding a limp and naked girl in his burly arms, his face hidden by the shadow as he held his prize before him. Claimed by him.

The erotica sounds of her mouth filled the space under the water, mixing with my gasps and low moans behind me. Faith free hand slid up to my throat, tilting my head back so she could bite along my neck while her hips kept rolling. "That's my girl, let her taste how wet you are," she moaned, pressing two fingers back inside me from behind even as Stella tongue sucked my front. She then pushed two fingers alongside Faith's, both of them stretching me open together. Their fingers moved in rhythm, one curling up while the other thrust deeper, scissoring inside my clenching walls. My legs shook harder. Faith adjusted her stance, spreading me wider so Stella could comfortably bury her face comple

“I already told you no.” “That’s because you haven’t heard me out yet. I’ve gotten a contract with this website that sells nude photos of girls. No, wait, let me finish. It’s not a porn site—it’s more an erotica site.” Emily snorted. “Isn’t that the same thing?” Landon almost looked affronted. “The photos I do are classy, Em. Artistic. And best of all, you get to keep a percentage of the royalties. It’s not just one sum for taking them.”

And yes Miss-Goodie-Two-Shoes, that includes you too. Anyway, getting off track here. So as I was saying, I'm an erotic romance writer (yes that's a category), which means that it's not all about just sex, sex and more sex, contrary to popular beliefs, erotica’s have story lines too. And it does not include sleeping with every XY-gene on sight. But like I said before, I am severely lagging in experience and to cover for that, I watch a hell lot of porn and read thousands erotic novels. To say that I could write my very own Kama sutra would be an understatement.

I poured the last red wine into the glass and carried it up upstairs. The laptop screen glowed as I created the website account. VelvetVixen. I, however, slipped into the black lace set I bought on impulse last year, which cupped my breasts and left my hips bare. My nipples already tightened against the thin fabric when I sat on the edge of the bed and hit “Go Live.” At first, I only teased myself. Fingers tracing the lace, slow circles over my thighs with a hand full of strangers typed hearts and fire emojis. I saw the tips trickle in, I told myself it was just for money but when the first tip hit—it was fifty dollars from someone named Regular47.