The Pleasure Principle Book Novels & Stories

Pleasure was a tool — sharp, effective, temporary, He’d learned that early, long before Aragon Enterprises and boardrooms and the gilded masks of men in power who thought they ruled the world. Desire, he’d found, was simply another form of control. A quiet one. A personal one. And control was the only thing that had ever kept him sane. Now, as he stood before the glass wall of his office, tie undone and collar open, he watched the city move beneath him — a pulse of light and want and endless noise. His reflection watched him back, unblinking. He closed his eyes, letting the echo of her touch replay for the briefest moment — the warmth of her skin, the tremor of her breath when she tried to k

Once both Dean and Holden have taken their places, and both have a steady hold on me, they begin hard strong thrusts inside me. I scream! If that isn't pleasure, I don't know what is! Quickening their pace, they slam deep inside me at record paces, both keeping in rhythm with each other; as Dean slams in, Holden eases out, and again and again. I can't even comprehend or explain the pleasure I'm dealing with right now. Not once have I experienced double penetration but god I want it again and again! I slowly feel that pleasurable feeling build again! I can't handle it; for the first time, I worry about how I will handle it. Will I cope? Will I pass out?

Lucas has never complained about having sex with me; he has always been pleased, especially when he comes twice. He then takes a long nap and refuses to do anything else. "Yes; yes!!!". I manipulated his mind by pretending to be enjoying his dick deep within my pussy. Lucas has a massive dick, but the problem is that he does not know how to use it properly and does not last long in bed.... Oh my goodness! "You are such a sweet baby girl." Lucas said something, and in the process, he pressed my head hard against the pillow, as if he wanted to choke me... He thinks it is romantic, but I am getting choked up and about to pass out....

i say huskily “ i want you…. all of you….i want you to touch every part of me” she gasps out feeling my warm breath on her wet core. I don’t waste any more time and slide my tongue over her core from her opening to her clit lingering for a moment on her clit stroking it gently making her squirm under me. I wrap my arms around her thighs holding her in place as i devoire her core. “Oh goddess jack …..yes” she gasps out between moans. She pulls my hands, i glance up at her watching the pleasure roll across her features.

"You must be tired from standing in Madison. I know the view is splendid but don't you think you have gotten enough of it? He said with a smirk on his face. Madison turned to leave so fast that she hit her head on the door and fell. It hurt bad, Adam didn't bother standing up to see if it was serious, she felt embarrassed, stood up and left. She went straight to her room, with the intention of not coming out till she was hungry. She took her bath, brought out a book to read but couldn't concentrate. She kept thinking of Adam and how to make him see her or notice her as a woman. She got tired and bored, she needed to talk to someone so she called Ella.

she continued, her voice dropping into a low purr, “is simple. You do what you want, with who you want. No questions, no labels, no guilt. Just pleasure. Pure, filthy pleasure.” Her hand flicked in the air as if she were sketching the scene for me. “Imagine walking into a room glowing in red light, velvet couches against the walls, music thick and pulsing. You don’t even make it past the entrance before you see a woman on her knees sucking two cocks at once, while another is bent over the bar getting fucked so hard the glasses shake. Nobody hides. Nobody pretends. It’s all out in the open—bodies sweaty, dripping, begging, taking.”

Just enough force to make my body electrocute with pleasure, and make my toes curved in while my eyes rolled to the back of my head. He continued to thrust in and out of me, as I squeezed onto the bed cover to contain the pleasure. “Ahhh, fuck!," I cursed. “Yeah! That's my girl. You're dripping wet." “Huuh, yeah! I'm all wet for daddy,” I replied. He increased his speed, stroking in and out of me speedily and this time roughly. It didn't hurt, just the pleasure knocking out every sense in me. " Ahhhh, yeah. Huuuuh,” I moaned loudly.

" He says and I scan through the documents. He is right. There is actually nothing much I need to do here except all the naughty erotic deeds listed here making me blush stupid. I can't believe I am actually going to be doing all these. Hardcore sex, blowjob, the trapped method...... Gosh. I don't think I can keep reading. But I am relieved when the end line of the document says that everything will be solely based for my own pleasure. I frown. My own pleasure? Now that is so confusing as fuck. Didn't he say he is a sex addict and needs a slave to satisfy his own pleasure? I frown and put the paper down a little peering at him as he looks out the window fiddling with the sleeve of his suit.

He went hard, harder and I still wanted more, I lifted my legs in the air, giving him leverage and I was sure he had read my mind. He held onto my left thigh and suddenly the knocking had faded in my head, just the sound of our bodies against each other and a subtle groan that I had to stop his mouth from letting out with my palm. This man was riding me like a beast and one I didn’t want to tame. He clenched the sheets when he kept going back and forth, making my nipples peek so much that I started fiddling them myself to match the pleasure I was feeling down there. “That’s not for you to do..” he breathed, leaning closer to my chest, his breath fanning my nipple, causing them to be even mor

Every smallness aggregated into a map of her limits. Pleasure. A dangerous word. Pleasure was an admission of interior life; it named an inner geography I could not legislate away with locks and lists. I never wanted the obvious collapse of someone reduced to fear. That was amateur cruelty. What I wanted — what I’d been designing — was the subtler surrender that rearranged a person’s measurement of reward and danger. A rush of warmth in a long-hardened place. A memory that complicated resistance.