Sultry Stories Novels & Stories

Her nipples were literally poking and begging for attention and she hoped he noticed as he approached her door and knocked. When she opened the door, Sully looked up. His eyes flicked over her figure, resting on her fine tits, down her small waist and the sweet flair of her hips before quickly shifting to her face. “Morning, Miss Hartley.” Her smile curled slowly. “Good morning, Sully.” He handed her the package, fingers brushing hers “You always get interesting deliveries,” he said, tapping the envelope. “‘Private and confidential’ this time.” “Mmm,” she said, stepping back. “Some things are better kept private.”

Scenes where she called him her husband and begged to be used. In her stories, he had a name. Caleb. She whispered it while touching herself under the covers, her thighs slick and trembling as her fingers moved in rhythm with the words she’d written. She told herself it was harmless. That lots of people fantasized. That it was better this way. Safer. He didn’t know. He’d never know. Until the night they crossed paths at the corner store. It was raining. Mira’s hoodie clung to her neck, and her flip-flops slapped wet against the tile floor of the tiny market. She grabbed a can of soup, a bottle of wine, and turned toward the register—and froze.

I felt myself only get wetter; my pussy was pretty much drenched by now. He let go with a pop sound. We separated, with only a thin layer of saliva joining us together before it snapped. He continued, his lips leaving open kisses until they were at my belly button. Each touch made my breath hitch. “Relax for me, pretty,” he said, dragging the rest of my dress down with him, leaving me bare for his eyes. I clenched my thighs tight as the cool air came rushing in. “Look how beautiful you are… every inch of you belonging to your king now. Don’t be shy, sweet thing, let me see.”

Our pretty princess and our submissive little slut. Our sweet Gabriella. THE END

⚠️ Trigger Warning This story contains explicit sexual content, including themes of forced feminization, BDSM, humiliation, sissification, pegging, cum play, and dominance/submission dynamics. It is intended strictly for mature audiences (18+). Reader discretion is advised. “I want you to remember this night for the rest of your life,” Sasha whispered, her voice like velvet over a blade. Julian didn’t get the chance to respond. The click of heels sounded behind him, then the door opened—and everything shifted.

she began, her thigh touching mine, "what makes you write like that? Your story was... real. It felt like you were writing about someone specific." I took a sip, the wine warm in my throat. "I guess... desires I haven't tried. Things I imagine but haven't done." My cheeks burned, but her gaze held me, urging me on. Marcus leaned forward, his voice low. "We're open-minded about desires. Life's too short to hold back, don't you think?" The air grew thick, charged with something new. Renata's hand touched my arm, light but clear. "Your story mentioned a couple," she said, her lips close to my ear. "Is that something you think about?"

My entire on-screen sexual history. Now I'm staring at a script titled After Hours that reads like someone ripped the pages straight out of someone's private fantasies. Full-frontal scenes. Extended sex sequences. No cutaways. No clever angles. The director, Elena Voss, is famous for wanting "authenticity"—which in her world means the actors actually feel desire, not just pretend to. She told my agent flat-out: "If Maya can't sell real heat, Sofia Marquez is waiting in the wings."

Elena lay sprawled on the worn leather couch, her body a slick, trembling mess of sweat and cum, sandwiched between Jax and Rico. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths, the afterglow of her orgasms still pulsing through her veins like electric currents. Jax's cum dried in sticky trails across her tits, while Rico's load leaked slowly from her pussy, a warm trickle that made her thighs quiver every time she shifted.

Tyler, quieter but built solid with those broad shoulders that tensed up when he got excited, and Alex, the storyteller who could turn any boring moment into something wild with his tales. We kicked off the night with a standard round of Never Have I Ever, sipping shots whenever someone hit a truth we had lived, but after a few cycles and the alcohol hitting harder, Sarah suggested flipping it to what she called the Extreme Edition, where instead of drinking for the things you had done, you stripped off a piece of clothing, and that idea got everyone nodding and grinning because the vibe was already charged with that tipsy flirtation. Clothes started coming off pretty fast after that, shirts

Without a word, they moved into position, the air was thick with anticipation, and the musky scent of our mixed arousal. My tight unfucked ass was about to be claimed. I shivered, pushing myself onto my hands and knees and presenting myself like the eager consort I was in this twisted fantasy world. How would I get back? I brushed the thought away immediately focusing on the fun about to happen; getting my three holes pulverised by their monstrous cocks at once! Lucien stepped up first, that veiny cock of his was thick and curved like a banana. He had been stroking it the whole time making pre-cum drip from the slit, and my mouth watered at the sight.