Novel & Cerita Stuck Sex Stories

A SEX SLAVE FOR MY DAD'S BEST FRIEND 1. My name is Sami, and I am 33 years old. I have been a slave for about three years. Prior to that I was married to a nice, but VERY vanilla man. He had been brought up that having sex was for making babies, and that's it. He didn't follow that to the letter, as we did have sex occasionally...but certainly not often and definitely not very exciting. The master has asked me to write about our relationship from the beginning until now. Sharing it with you is part of the task as well. Just like any task that I do, there are rules. The rules for this are as follows:

The hands started pounding on the flywheel, one more punch and one more again. The wheels of the car were sliding down the road so fast that the trees looked like blurs. Enrico opened the windows, allowing the cold air to whip his face. His uncle’s voice still reverberated in his mind, the information collected, along with the coin and the pen drive, confirmed what Enrico was so afraid to admit to himself: he was wrong about his own wife. The woman he loved was a fake. He was tired of that fake marriage, it was time to teach a lesson to the woman who bewitched him with her charms.

The silence made my thighs clench. "What kind of dreams?" he asked, still calm. "I shouldn't say." "You came here to let it out," he answered simply. I held in my breathing. "They're... sexual. I wake up soaked. Aching. And ashamed." "Go on." I let my head rest against the wooden panel behind me. My eyes closed. "He touches me in ways no one ever has. And I let him. I want it. God, I want it so bad." The words spilled out, broken and messy. "Sometimes it's in public. Sometimes I'm tied down. Sometimes he just whispers in my ear and I'm already falling apart. I wake up wet, panting, and I can't stop thinking about it for days."

"Yes, but you were never like this. We tried the same thing before. But you only came to that woman twice. After that, you said you couldn't have sex with her because you were too in love with me. So why, when you were with Beatrice, were you addicted? You made love to her every day but with me only twice a week." "You know, I need healthy and good sperm for her for quick fertilization. Oh come on, don't be jealous darling, we can't stop." "Why can't you stop? Are you starting to love her, and you feel better fucking her than me?" For God's sake! I was again faced with the arguments of stubborn adults. From the start, this was wrong because his wife felt confident. After everything went smoo

“Does this bore you?” “Sorry, Ma’am.” It wasn’t so much that it was boring, it was that it was just stories. He needed more. “And then today, at lunch, I seduced a UPS guy. All tan and muscles, he looked great in his uniform shorts but he looked even better out of them. Nine-inch cock, at a minimum. Straight and thick. And boy could he eat. Someone had trained that boy well. I had three orgasms before we even got to the actual fucking. I thought about you—stuck here, cleaning the bathroom or the kitchen or whatever it was you were doing.”

He wasn’t sure where this story was leading to. She hesitated for a moment as her face darkened. “I guess I didn’t explain it in the right order. Darius wasn’t my first, just to let you know. I…I had my first time with a senior student from school. Shit happened and I was stuck in limbo. Not only for survival but a craving…to fuck someone again.” Anton gulped. Was there something wrong with her high school? He wanted to ask but he decided to be patient.

It stretches her perfectly, filling her up in ways she hadn't felt in ages. "You're doing wonderfully, Y/N," *she praises, biting her lip as she starts to move her hips in sync with yours.* "Now let's see if you can make mommy squirt like those hentai sluts did." *Y/N's mind goes blank as Stefanie's velvety walls envelop their aching cock, the sensation unlike anything they've ever experienced. Every subtle movement sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through their body, making it difficult to focus on anything but the incredible feeling of being buried deep inside this forbidden woman.*

The alcohol was still thick in her veins, Rissa felt herself unraveling in slow, syrupy waves, her legs falling wider and hips lifting toward his hand when his rough fingers finally slipped between her thighs and found how embarrassingly wet she already was. “Fuck,” Ronan breathed, the word almost reverent. “All this for a man who won’t even look at you?” He worked her open with slow, merciless strokes, curling two fingers deep inside, while his thumb circled her clit in tight, unrelenting loops. Larissa’s head thrashed against the pillow, a broken sob caught in her throat every time he dragged against that spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. She was close, dangerously

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?” He didn’t answer right away. The truck slowed to a stop at a gate, and he reached out to open it without getting down, muscles flexing under his shirt. Once we rolled through, he let the gate swing shut behind us and kept driving, slower now, like we had all the time in the world. “I haven’t been able to have sex in a long time,” he finally said, voice low and even. “Problem down there. Can’t get hard. Haven’t been able to for years.”

And the silence hurts worse than anything. End of story 3