Taboo Fantasy Stories Novels & Stories

I have a class to attend. ‎I scurried out of bed and dashed into the bathroom to take a shower. ‎I know what we just did is forbidden and a taboo, but I don't feel guilty for it. Not one bit. In fact, I so much loved it. Who would regret having hot sex with a guy who has a big dick and knows how to fuck very well? ‎**Author's note** ‎Are they going to keep doing it till their parents come back? ‎Let's keep going. ‎Thanks so much for your support 💯 ‎

He leaned in, brushed his lips against my temple almost tender and added, “And try not to blush when you look at me across the table… knowing my cum is still inside you.” Then he walked away toward the hallway, leaving me on his couch, dress open, body marked, and my mind spinning with terror and terrible, undeniable want. I already knew I’d be there. Even though it was reckless. Even though it was going to break me.

Day after day I sat across from women who told me about rough hands pinning them down, about cocks slamming into their unwilling bodies, about the dark pleasure that came from being completely used. I had always offered comfort and healing. Yet lately my own body betrayed me. My huge DD breasts would ache with a heavy fullness, my nipples hardening into stiff peaks beneath my bra. A slick, shameful heat would build between my thighs whenever I listened to them speak of surrender. I would cross my legs tighter during sessions, biting my lip so hard I almost drew blood, trying to keep the soft sounds of arousal from escaping. What was wrong with me? Why did the tales of abuse ignite this forbi

My mind wandered to last night, when I heard his shower running through the thin wall between our houses, imagining him stroking himself under the water, soapy hands sliding over that thick length I had fantasized about for months since moving in next door. My roommate was out with her boyfriend again, leaving me alone with my thoughts, fingering myself in bed while picturing Professor Harlan’s face between my legs, his tongue lapping at my clit until I came hard, biting the pillow to keep quiet. He stopped pacing and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest, the motion pulling his shirt tight across his pecs. “Let’s discuss Lolita first, the ultimate taboo, an older man obs

And so damned hot. She talked about narrative structure and unreliable narrators. I barely heard her. My hand shook as I turned to page 117. When she asked if anyone had an example of a compelling line from erotic literature, I raised my hand. She raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Turner?” I stood and cleared my throat. “He wanted to taste obedience on her tongue.” The class went silent. A couple students chuckled. Someone made a low “damn” sound in the back. She didn’t laugh. She just smiled slowly.

The flight back was a descent into a special kind of hell, a pressurized tube of recycled air and unspoken dread. The silence was not the comfortable, shared quiet of two people who knew each other well. It was the heavy, suffocating silence of a battlefield after the fighting has stopped, a silence filled with the ghosts of what had transpired. Emma sat in her business class seat, staring out the window at the endless expanse of clouds, but she wasn’t seeing the sky. She was seeing Mr. Dubois’s face, feeling his hands on her, tasting his cock in her mouth. She was feeling Mr. Carter’s brutal thrusts from behind, hearing his possessive growls, the sound of his voice as he commanded her to co

as Gwen lowered down and began sucking on the juicy meat, kissing and caressing her stepmother's skin. These were the kinds of thoughts that kept him up at night. Furiously stroking away, that is. Imagining and dreaming... hoping and praying! Though knowing that never in a million years could his mother-daughter threesome experience ever come to fruition. It was the kind of thing left to outlandish p**n videos and subpar smut. The kind of unbelievable, entirely outrageous story lines where several sexy women just miraculously throw themselves at a young, horny man – as if his penis possessed some ungodly power that women found irresistible. No, not Harry... he knew better than to equate real

💌✨ AUTHOR’S NOTE TO MY LOVELY READERS ✨💌 Hello, my lovely readers! 🥹❤️🌙 First of all, I just want to say a HUGE thank you to every single person who has opened Dark Tales of Midnight: A Collection of Taboo Stories and decided to take this journey with me. 🖤🌹✨

Note this a taboo/Forbidden Romance I have a confession to make. There has only ever been one man I wanted: Logan Lawman. Completely off-limits and twenty-five years my senior Logan. He is a walking demigod, with his broad shoulders and deep voice that makes my toes curl. Oh, and he’s also my Dad’s best buddy. To say that I’m screwed would be an understatement.

She was winning. Days turned to weeks. More accidents: Bending over in the laundry room, ass up as she “searched” for a sock, pussy lips peeking from under shorts. Brushing past him in narrow halls, her hand “slipping” to graze his cock. Each time, Ethan’s fantasies grew darker—tying her up, edging her until she begged, then fucking her raw. Lila reveled in it, masturbating nightly to the thought of him begging, “Please, Lila, let me fuck you. I need it.”