Trashy Novels Novels & Stories

Jack "Pearl!" One of the other women admonishes the old lady, but she just laughs in response. My mouth drops in shock as my eyes swivel between Everett and the old lady trying to figure out what the hell she's talking about. "What does that mean?" Everett asks and a round of giggles goes around the room. "Smut is... A descriptive romance. With spicy scenes." One of the women says. "Literary p**n." Another one adds. "Cliterature, if you will." Someone else supplies with a chuckle. The word triggers something I've always wondered about.

“In the end, that guy Harper has a miscarriage and dies… He suffered to death and left so emptily. Meanwhile, why are you shedding tears and making a fuss, you bastard William Bailey? Well, you should have treated him well while you had him.” Of course, I skipped through the explicit scenes with blurry eyes. No matter what, I just couldn’t watch men doing it together. “Ha. It was really a trashy novel… It just devastated my heart.” And I completely denied the fact that I felt entertained reading a BL novel. “Let me never read BL again. Half of it was explicit content, it just rotted my eyes.” After just taking the dopamine, I desperately erased the contents of the BL novel from my head.

His other hand ripped my thong aside to ram three thick fingers into my sloppy, fertile hole "Jesus, this cunt's a fucking swamp," he grunted against my tit, finger-fucking me brutally, thumb grinding my clit. "Starving for your ex's dick. Beg louder! scream for me, baby. Scream for my cock like the needy cumslut you are.”

The dirty words coming out of my mouth made me even hornier and I rocked my hips a little chasing his fingers. Grayson rubbed harder pushing the rough fabric between my pussy lips until it dragged over my clit. “You’re leaking all over my seat already. Tell me why you steal Willow. Be fucking honest. No bullshit.” I gasped and gripped my own thighs trying to hold the position while his fingers kept teasing me. “It gives me a rush, okay? When I walk out with something that isn’t mine my heart pounds and my pussy gets tingly. Life here is so boring and small and that little thrill makes me feel alive for a minute. But I hate how it always ends up like this.”

“What’s wrong with you two? One spacing out, the other crying like crazy?” Yvonne sniffled. “Waaah, the female lead died of cancer! Why do novels always go with car accidents, cancer, and long-lost siblings?! So annoying!” Goselle comforted her. “It’s cliché, but at least it’s better than mine. Mine’s so boring.” Then she turned to me. “What about you? You’ve been reading forever and you’re still on page two?” I closed the book. “Mine’s not good either.”

And yet I still couldn’t get through. What was the damn password? It took a lot of willpower not to slam my fist on the laptop in frustration. With each passing second, my eagerness to get to my destination intensified. In all my years on earth, I’d never seen a collection of p**n as voluminous as the one that resided on Daniel’s laptop. But the p**n alone wasn’t what had commanded my full curiosity. It was the toys that had been on a separate window beside it. My God. Never could I have imagined that any individual would have a toy collection that was that vast.

“I love how you don’t stop until I’m too loud to care.” Daniel kissed me slow and deep, still buried inside me. Outside, the afternoon light was starting to soften. We still had hours before Claire came home. I already knew my voice would be wrecked by the time she did. I couldn’t wait. Wondering how it all started, well hear me out! I knew exactly what I was doing every time I put on one of those dresses. The short ones. Soft cotton that stopped halfway down my thighs. The yellow, the pale green, the white with the tiny flowers.

Forster. The second shelf held old pulp novels from the thirties and forties. When he was fourteen years old his great grandmother, recognizing a hungry reader, started giving him one novel a month. They bore such outlandish titles as The House of Darkness, The Tree that Screamed, The Strangler Fig, The Devil’s Mansion, Crimson Ice, The Undying Monster and Heads, You Lose. He’d consumed those books one after the other, a new junkie mainlining his first fix. Grandma White promised him when she passed, he could have them all. Those books were older than any of the others in his office.

Chapter 1: Caught in the Act I straddled on Professor Blake’s lap in his office, my short plaid skirt shoved up around my waist, my soaked black panties hanging off one ankle like a dirty little trophy. His thick cock was buried deep inside my dripping pussy, stretching me open as I rocked my hips in slow, lazy circles, taking every inch of him with each roll. I’d never been one for hitting the books hard. Studying felt like torture, so I’d found a much more appealing way to keep my grades up, and it was simple, riding my professor raw for hours. And it happened to work every single time.

TRIGGER WARNING & DISCLAIMER This novel is a dark, anthropological erotica that explores the primal depths of human desire, power, and submission. It is not for the faint of heart. If you are uncomfortable with morally gray characters, intense power dynamics, or explicit scenes that push the boundaries of consent, this is not the book for you. This story contains: • Explicit Erotica – No fade-to-black, just raw, unfiltered passion. • Dark & Dubious Consent – Power struggles, mind games, and moments that blur the lines between pleasure and surrender.