Stuck Sex Stories Novels & Stories

You're probably thinking, "It's a CEO story. It's going to have the same old cliche beginning." It could start in my office with a pointless benign argument involving me and my girlfriend. The usual classic cliche shit. Maybe we'd throw in a sex scene after the argument, you know, spice things up a bit. Or maybe after the argument and sex, I get an epiphany and decide to break up. It's not you, it's me. It's what's best for both of us. Well, I'm going to have to disappoint you there because I'm not in my office. I'm not even in town.

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.

* *The wet heat of my core beckoned him, fluttering and grasping at nothing, aching to be stretched and filled by his magnificent cock. *With a feral growl, Alec surged forward, sheathing himself fully inside your tight, clutching heat in one powerful thrust. A guttural moan tore from his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls gripping him like a vice, fluttering and massaging his sensitive flesh. He paused for a moment, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut as he fought for control, savoring the feeling of being buried to the hilt in your perfect cunt.*

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.”

I have always been able to trust Sammy. But how can I tell Sammy about how I am changing? How my interest in sex is pushing me beyond the normal limits that people have; how my Onlyfans account was veering further and further away from hers, which is strictly suggestive bathing suit pictures; how, when I masturbate now, which is currently about three times a day, all I can picture is my stepfather's face... my stepfather staring at me, his eyes glazing over with lust, as he cums? A wave of sadness washes over me. My stepfather, whom I love, and who now can't look at me because of the way I've been acting. The things I've done.

1. LISA I’m Nineteen years old, and my parents still believe I’m their innocent church girl who wouldn’t dare break a single rule. They have no idea how wrong they are. I’ve spent my entire life trapped in that house, watched like a prisoner. The moment their car leaves the driveway, I slip out, find girls who want the same thing I do, and let them devour my pussy in the back seat of cars or rundown motel rooms where no one asks questions. I’ve perfected the art of playing the perfect daughter while my body stays constantly hungry, cunt wet and aching for release.

They had been having sex frequently, almost four times a day, and Jax was worried he might have overdone it. Richy felt the blunt, slick pressure of the doctor’s gloved finger against his puckered hole and gasped, his fingers clawing at the paper covering the exam table. The pressure increased and Richy cried out, instantly clamping hard, just to keep that finger from sliding into his intimate area. It felt unnatural, and he didn't like it. “Breathe out,” Dr Stanley instructed, his voice cold. The finger pushed past the tight ring of muscle and Richy’s body resisted, clenched, then yielded until the doctor’s finger was deep inside him. Richy panted, tears springing to his eyes.

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.”

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