Thick Lesbians Novels & Stories

"Don't you love this?" Isobel asked, undoing his pants. Cameron raised her up, pushing her ass on the table. He checked the bottom drawer and realised they were out of condoms. Completely mesmerised, he breath. "We can't do this. You don't want to get pregnant." She leaned closer to his body till her braless tits fell on his chest and her lips touched his ears. "I did something." She whispered. "Won't be giving birth for three months." She said. Cameron shifted back, taking his time to look in her eyes. He wanted to be sure she understood what she had done and was ready for it. Isobel smiled, need masqueraded her eyes. "Are you sure?" She nodded. Dipping her hand in his pants. She gasped as her hand fisted his, thick, hard dick. "I want this." "Good." Cameron said, taking his shirt off. "Because I'm going to fuck you." He roared and that instant, her dress ripped open. She enjoyed the sound of the tear. She enjoyed being vulnerable and naked in front of him. Her nipples hardened and his tongue enveloped it. "You're mine. And I'll make you remember that. Every. Damn. Time." "I know." She whispered, unable to think. Her hand roamed around his body till she felt his gun. Isobel gasped. Cameron held her little fingers, reading the look on her face. He stopped and pulled out without taking his eyes off her body. He spread her legs wide for him. She's so beautiful. That pussy is his. Cameron loaded the gun with a bullet and cocked it. Isobel flinched. The mouth of the gun grazed her pussy in ways she enjoyed. She moaned, biting her lips. He was fucking her with his gun. This is her dream come true.

He spread her thighs wider with firm hands, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin inches from where she needed him most. “Look at this pretty little pussy,” he said, voice reverent. “So wet for your stepdad. So needy.” Lila moaned, hips lifting toward him instinctively. He pressed one thick finger along her slit—slow, teasing, gathering her wetness without pushing inside. “You’re going to show me again. Put your fingers where mine are.” She obeyed, sliding two fingers down to circle her clit. The touch was electric with him watching. ~~~~~~~~ WARNING: 18+ This book is HOT and very adult-only. It has lots of steamy daddy kink, taboo age-gap stories, "good girl" praise, claiming, punishments that feel good, and explicit scenes. Everyone in the stories is a consenting adult 18+. Pure fantasy fun. If you're under 18, please skip this one. Imagine a big, strong Daddy who can't stop wanting you. He calls you his little pet. He makes you feel so good when you obey. In these 500 hot stories, older men take charge. Strict stepdads, protective guardians, powerful guys—they all claim their sweet, naughty girls. Age gaps make everything hotter. One look is enough to ignite something neither of them can resist. Soft "good girl" words turn into hungry kisses. Punishments feel amazing. He holds you tight, fills you up, and whispers you're his forever. Every story is quick, dirty, and full of that daddy heat—praise that makes you melt, rough hands that feel perfect, nights where you beg for more. All fantasy. All adults saying yes. All so addictive. If you love thinking "Yes, Daddy" and feeling wanted, this huge collection is for you. Start reading... he won't let you stop. 18+ only. Get ready to feel your thighs clench and your pulse race.

“Shh, little girl,” he growled, teeth catching my bottom lip. I fought the moan, but he circled my clit, my hips jerked helplessly against his hand. Then he pushed my panties aside and sank two thick fingers inside me. I soaked his palm, knees buckling as tremors wracked me. “That’s it, cum for me,” he whispered against my ear. I did. Waves crashed through me while he held me up, stroking gently, murmuring filthy praise that made it sweeter, deeper, more shattering than anything I’d ever felt with a woman. I’m a lesbian. I’ve always known it, claimed it shamelessly. I’ve mapped women’s bodies with my mouth, hands, loving every touch and gasp. My best friend’s tongue between my legs has made me come countless times. The only man I tried, my ex, was awkward, unsatisfying. I swore off them forever. I love women. I love my best friend. So why does this man, her father, the one I should never want make me wetter with one stroke than she ever has? Why am I aching for his cock, pushed inside me, thrusting relentlessly, filling me, ruining me in ways no woman could? Why does bending over his desk for him feel like the right thing to do? One forbidden touch. One devastating truth: I might never want another woman again. When I rejected the vice chancellor's advances, my best friend's obsessive aunt, she threatened expulsion. My friend took me to her father, the college owner. One look at his body and I was lost. That night in their home, hiding in the kitchen while watching him cook, I touched myself, craving what is forbidden. Will my best friend discover my sudden addiction to her father? Will her aunt ever stop wanting me?

Her first orgasm was a bet…. ———- “Spread wider for me, Carter." He growled against my throat. My traitorous legs parted. "This doesn't mean I forgive you, Grey." "Fuck—" His fingers pushed inside me. "That only makes me crave you more." "I hate you—" "Hate me all you want, Carter. Just soak me while you do it." --- Lethally hot hockey star and billionaire heir, Lexter Gray, was supposed to hook up with the campus outcast and walk away laughing. One cruel bet with the girl everyone calls Four-eyes. Sloane Carter has spent her whole life hiding behind oversized sweaters and thick glasses. But Lexter didn't expect the kiss to feel real. And Sloane didn't know it was a lie. When she returns to the pool that night to grab her forgotten sweater… she hears everything. The bet. The laughter. The truth. Heartbroken, Sloane nearly drowns in Lexter's pool… saved by the same boy who destroyed her. She swore she'd erase him. But now they're paired together for the project of the season. Forced to face the tension together. She hates that she ever let him touch her. He hates that he can't forget what she tastes like. Then the glasses come off. The oversized sweaters disappear. And everyone at Passion can see what Lexter's been silently craving. When his charming brother starts flirting with Sloane, Lexter begins to lose control. He realizes, too late, that he'd already fallen for his hot nerd. Now he'll do anything to win her back. And Sloane? If he expects her to roll over like his other puck bunnies, he's in for a shock. And what happens when Lexter discovers that his hot nerd didn't just steal his heart. She stole something far worse? ⚠️Not your sweet college romance… Explicit content. Dark themes. Broken people.

Raven Academy claws three primal laws into every shifter's soul: 1. Never deceive an Alpha. 2. Never hunger for an Alpha. 3. Never let Jason Voss inhale your desperate scent. I demolished them all in a fevered rush. One forged assignment, hidden in shadows. His silver gaze pierced through, summoning me to his den. "Exile yourself," he snarled, voice like velvet-wrapped steel, his alpha presence coiling around me, thick with dominance. I collapsed to my knees, pulse thundering, body betraying me with heat. "I'll do anything," I whispered, voice raw, eyes locked on his sculpted form—the godlike alpha every wolf in the academy craved, their fantasies paling against his brutal reality. He didn't smile. He claimed. Now, nights devour me in his sealed lair. His forbidden pupil, spread open for lessons in sin. He unravels me with calloused hands mapping my skin, tongue tracing veins, cock demanding surrender. First lesson: my shattered moans as he pins me to the desk, thrusting mercilessly, his knot swelling to lock us in ecstasy's vise, flooding me until I drip with his essence. Second: the burn of his fangs sinking into my neck mid-fuck, his hips grinding deeper, growling "Mine" like a curse that brands my wolf's core. Third: orgasms ripping through me untouched, his fist twisting my hair, breath hot as he hisses, "My thieving slut, begging for every inch." He etches ownership in flesh: Purple blooms from his grip. Claiming scars pulsing with heat. His release slick between my thighs during sunlit classes, a secret torment that has me aching for more. The pack still worships untouchable Jason Voss from afar, drooling over his lethal beauty. Blind to his mate. Me. Broken. Addicted. Praying this dark bliss never ends. Salvation? I'd claw it apart for one more bite.

The man I'd been with for three years, my fiancé, had promised to leave everything behind in the States and move to Europe to join my family. For our future together, I had quietly arranged a transfer of massive assets in his name. The night I was finally ready to tell him everything, I came back to our safehouse and heard voices I wasn't supposed to hear. "Kane, are you seriously giving up your entire place in the mafia for some ordinary girl?" That was Alicia Holt, the daughter of a small-time mob boss who scraped by at the edges of New York. Kane let out a cold laugh, his voice dripping with contempt and calculation. "Give it all up? For that useless woman? Alicia, you're underestimating me. I'm only playing along to get her to sign over that Manhattan townhouse and her offshore funds into my name." He knew exactly how much I'd sacrificed to be with him. He knew I'd even defied my father. And none of it meant a damn thing to him. He just found me clingy, embarrassing, like a dog he couldn't shake. "That idiot actually thinks she's something. If it weren't for her money, I wouldn't even waste a glance on her." Kane pulled Alicia closer, his voice thick with arrogant contempt. "Once I've drained every last asset, I'm breaking off the engagement. Then it's just you and me, baby." Alicia giggled and playfully swatted at his chest. "What if she finds out?" "Finds out? She's just some sheltered rich girl with no backup and no clue." Kane scoffed like he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world. "What's she going to do?" I stood there and felt my fury turn into something ice-cold and perfectly still. Kane had no idea. For a few scraps of easy money, he'd just thrown away an entire European crime empire.

Ever since her 18th birthday, Mona Lisa hasn’t been the same. What began as innocent curiosity with her college friends—experimenting with vibrators and watching forbidden taboo videos—had awakened something feral inside her. Scenes of powerful alphas claiming their own bloodline only fueled the fire. Now she craved c*ck with a hunger no toy could satisfy. Her wolf was awake, and it was shameless. Every time her strict, commanding Alpha stepfather spoke, her body betrayed her completely. The deep rumble of his voice sent slick heat flooding between her thighs. Her nipples hardened instantly. Her breath hitched, and instead of answering like a proper daughter of the pack, soft, needy whimpers escaped her lips. Her wolf whined inside her chest, tail tucked, begging to submit. She was consumed by one dark fantasy: becoming his secret, messy little breeding doll. She imagined him pinning her down and filling her womb with thick, potent Alpha seed while he growled “Mine” against her neck, marking her permanently. He was her stepfather. The Alpha of their pack. Her mother’s mate. Yet the fated bond thrummed between them, growing stronger with every full moon. Her scent had changed; the entire pack could smell her desperate, fertile need whenever he was near. Mona Lisa knew she faced an impossible choice: surrender to the overwhelming pleasure and let her Alpha stepfather ruin her—body, soul, and wolf—or fight the bond and slowly go mad. Either path would shatter the pack and burn her family. But when his golden eyes locked on hers, her pussy clenched and dripped with raw need. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stop herself from dropping to her knees, baring her neck, and begging her stepdaddy to knot and breed her like the filthy little omega she truly was.

"Did you think I’d just let you go?" Suzanne’s grip on her son tightened as Charles took a slow step forward, his smirk curling like smoke in the air. "I sent you the damn divorce papers, Charles. Sign them and leave." He chuckled. "Oh, I got them." Another step. "But I don’t sign away what’s mine." She backed up. "I am not yours. I stopped being yours the night you betrayed me." His jaw clenched. The silence stretched—thick, suffocating—before he lunged. Suzanne barely had time to gasp before his hands were on her, ripping their son from her arms. The boy hit the couch with a soft thud and let out a startled cry. "You son of a—!" She shoved at him, clawing, struggling, but he was stronger. His hands dug into her waist, yanking her against him, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol. "You’re mine, Suzanne," he growled, fingers digging into her skin. "And if I can’t have you—" his grip tightened, his lips brushing her ear, "no one will." Then—CRACK! Charles gone—ripped off her, sent flying across the room. Suzanne gasped, chest heaving, scrambling back just as her attacker crashed into a table. A voice, dark and furious, sliced through the chaos. "Touch her again, and I’ll kill you." Her heart stopped. She knew that voice. Liam Carter. --- Trapped in a loveless marriage to a ruthless CEO, Suzanne Smith thought she had no way out—until Liam Carter, her high school sweetheart, walked back into her life. He’s everything her husband isn’t—kind, passionate, and willing to fight for her. But leaving Charles Langford won’t be easy. His Lies. Betrayal. Violence. Will she escape his grip, or will her past consume her? How far will she go for freedom?

In his bid for perpetual life, the first Don of the Bryant family annihilates the witch clan and violently takes possession of their most sacred relic. In the moments before her death, the head of the witch clan places a curse on every descendant of the Bryant family. Every descendant will suffer a sudden mutation at the age of 23, where their bodies would be covered in thick, black hair, and fangs would sprout from their mouths, turning them into monsters. They can only lift the curse if they marry a descendant of the witches. Ella Crawford—my sister—and I are the last remaining descendants of the witch clan in the human realm. In my past life, Oliver's lottery selection fell on the attractive Ella. I was aware that Ella lacked the power to lift the curse, so I secretly swapped the lots, and Oliver ended up married to me. In the end, during our wedding night, Ella set herself alight, proclaiming that she had lost her eternal love and didn't want to face life without him. As a result, Mom and Dad drove me out. Oliver, however, took me in and showered me with affection. It wasn't long before I conceived his child, and he successfully survived his 23rd birthday. Yet, barely a day later, Oliver pushed me into the fire pit. I pleaded with tears streaming down my face, "I freed you from the curse and am currently carrying your baby, Oliver, so please don't treat me like this!" Oliver merely responded with a malicious grin as he tossed the torch aside. "If it weren't for your interference, Ella would have lifted the curse for me! I would have been able to spend the rest of my life with her, Cynthia!" In the end, I was completely consumed by the flames. I suddenly open my eyes and find myself returning to the day Oliver chooses his bride by lot. I immediately snap the tampered lot, as I'm eager to find out how Ella will save Oliver without any witch powers in this life.

By the seventh year of my engagement to Tristan, he postponed our wedding for the third time. The reason was simple. His childhood sweetheart, Gabriella, had returned to the country. She had just gone through a divorce and was emotionally unstable. Tristan personally retrieved every invitation we had sent out, his tone calm and steady. "Gabby has no one by her side right now. I can't upset her at a time like this." I held the ring that had already been resized twice and asked, "What about me?" Tristan glanced at me. "You're different. You're sensible." I had been hearing that word for seven years. Sensible. When his startup failed, I sold the old house my grandmother had left me to help him pay off his debts. When he suffered a gastric hemorrhage, I stayed at the hospital for three days straight and missed my own promotion defense. When his mother said my background was too ordinary for him, he only rubbed his temples and said, "Tori, don't make this difficult for me." Every time, I nodded. He once told me that no matter how thick the fog became, he would always leave a light on for me. Until the day Gabriella stood in front of the mirror wearing my wedding dress and smiled as she asked, "Victoria, you don't mind, do you? Tristan said your wedding's being postponed anyway." Tristan stood behind her. He did not deny it. He even reached out and adjusted her veil for her. The fog lamp he had given me with his own hands sat by the display window of the bridal shop. It was still lit, illuminating someone else in the white dress I had waited seven years to wear. Only then did I realize that some roads were not lost because the fog was too thick. It was because he had never planned to come for me at all.