Wet Stories Novels & Stories

She looked comfortable, like she owned the place. “Getting late, Matt,” she said softly. “You look tense. Why don’t you tell me a story? Or better yet, let me tell you one.” She started talking in that low, husky voice. Stories about late-night deals, fast cars, and men who thought they could control her. Every one had a dirty edge. How she once made a rival boss beg on his knees. How power felt better when it came with pleasure. Matt listened, pretending it was just work, but his dick stayed rock hard the whole time.

I whispered, admitting for the first time out loud what my dirty fantasy really was. the next second, he ripped my panties and threw the fabric somewhere. Before realizing what was happening, a hot liquid hit my clit, and a low buzzing started.“I hope you are prepared, doll.” I wriggled on the bed. “Because once you start coming, there will be no stopping.”I took a deep breath, shocked by his words, but before I could reply, vibration hit my now-wet bundle of nerves, and all my thoughts disappeared.As soon as the pulsation hit my clit, my legs started shaking, and all my efforts went to me closing them.It was too much. The pleasure was too much. The feeling was too much. His touch was too mu

My sneakers slipped on the wet ground but he kept me steady pulling me toward a small equipment storage shed near the edge. The door was unlocked and we tumbled inside slamming it shut behind us. The space was tightly stacked with balls, nets and mats, barely enough room for both of us. Water dripped from our clothes and hair and we stood there breathing hard, still laughing. “Fuck that came out of nowhere,” I gasped pushing my wet cap back. My short hair clung to my forehead and the soaked binder made my tits feel heavier even bound down. My jeans clung to my legs outlining the curve of my hips a little too much now that they were wet.

The wet sound is loud in the quiet room: sloppy, filthy, unmistakable. I groan against you. The vibration shoots straight up your spine. Then I focus. Lips seal around your clit. Suck. Gentle at first—soft pulses that make your thighs shake—then harder. Tongue flicks the underside in quick, relentless strokes. Fast. Wet. Precise. Every flick sends sparks behind your eyes. Your hands fist the sheets. Knuckles white. I pull back just enough to speak—lips brushing your clit with every word. “Edge for me.”

We talked for hours as the night wore on. “You really thought about quitting because of burnout?” I asked, tracing a finger along his chest. “Yeah. Days blurred together. Then you started coming in regularly. Made me look forward to shifts again.” He smiled in the low light. “What about you? Why history?” “I like stories that last,” I said. “People who lived real lives hundreds of years ago. Makes my problems feel small.” We laughed softly. Then the touching started again. This time I climbed on top, riding him slow while we kept talking. He looked up at me like I was something special. His hands roamed my body, squeezing my breasts, guiding my hips.

They made her crawl and clean both cocks with her tongue, licking every drop of cum, ass juice, and pussy cream. Lia lay there afterward, legs spread obscenely, covered in sweat, spit, and cum. Her holes twitched and leaked. She felt completely destroyed. And she fucking loved it. Ethan crouched down and shoved three fingers into her sloppy cunt, stirring the mess. “How do you feel?” “Like a whore,” she whispered hoarsely, smiling through the mess on her face. “Your filthy whore.” Jax laughed. “She’s ready for the team party tomorrow. Gonna let the whole locker room run a train on this cum-guzzling slut?”.

Gold Mask pulls out, and I gasp for breath, then he slaps his cock across my face. “You’ll remember this taste when you sleep.” Then he grips a fistful of my hair and bends me over the pedestal of the platform, ripping my dress open. Very easily, my dress tears and I’m totally bare, exposed to their eyes. ... And Wet. He spreads my ass, showing me off to the other masked men. “She’s dripping,” he announces. “Look at her, she's a mess already.” They all growl at this and clap their hands to together, noisily showing their approval of my reaction.

I sit in the same dim glow, heart still racing from last night’s release. My body remembers—throbs with the memory of three fingers stretching me while I wrote about being knotted and filled. The unfinished story waits on the screen like a living thing, but tonight I don’t continue it. Tonight I start something filthier, something that makes even my darkest previous tales feel tame. New document. Title: *Tongue of the Beast*. I type the first line with trembling fingers.

Every time I thought I was at my limit, Kade would whisper something cruel in my ear, or Brian would deliver a spank that reignited the fire in my blood, and I’d find a second wind. By mid-afternoon, I was lying splayed out on the rug, my legs shaking uncontrollably. I was covered in a film of their cum, my skin tacky and smelling of musk. The sheer stockings were torn, and the maid’s apron was hanging by a single string. Kade walked over and stood between my spread legs, looking down at me like I was something he’d found on the bottom of his shoe. "You're holding up better than I thought," he admitted, his voice a low rumble. "But we’re only halfway through day three. Brian and Ken have som

I almost can’t stand it. “Be patient, princess,” Thirst Trap whispers against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. My muscles start to flutter like it does when my orgasm is approaching. He suddenly stops rubbing me, and I almost cry at the loss of friction. God, I’m going to kill this guy in a minute. How dare he! The buildup fades before I can catch it, but my wetness pools more than ever. I could really use a cock in me right now.