Women's Sex Stories 소설 & 이야기

Now Nikita was the 'worldly' woman lecturing the one blossoming into womanhood - Thank God! Women ganging up on you isn't always a bad thing and them fighting over you isn't always a good thing. If they fight over you, the winner may still hold you responsible for what happened = no sex. When they settle those issues internally, they are more likely to ignore your flaws to get what they want, namely your attention and body. Anybody who thinks girls don't want sex as much as a guy has never been shoved into a dark closet with a female total stranger. If you aren't quick, she'll have your cock in her mouth before you can get under her bra - just saying.

Elara Voss stepped into Midnight Sins with her heart racing and her pussy already wet. She was no innocent girl. At twenty-two, she lived for filthy, no-limits sex. The darker and more dangerous, the better. Tonight, she had finally won the golden ticket to the city's most exclusive underground sex club, and she was ready to be used like a whore. Her black dress was sinful, short enough that bending over would show her bare ass, with a deep neckline that barely contained her full breasts. No bra. No panties. She wanted easy access.

A special train where women went to be molested. Now, Kristen didn't want to turn her mother and best friend into whores. They were faithful women who only had lesbian sex when away from their men. But they were both fully supportive of their men having sex with sluts. (Of course, for Kristen, this was all in the fictional universe she was writing about.) So she sits down and begins to pen the next story. Reality was not about to get in the way of writing something hot. Not on Kristen's perverse watch. * * *

three times in two weeks. Rachel, twenty-eight, who'd brought her husband for "erectile dysfunction therapy" and now came alone twice a week. Elena, twenty-five, whose boyfriend couldn't make her squirt....but Dr. Stone could, and now she was addicted to the sensation. They all knew why they were there. All knew what happened behind that closed office door. All knew they couldn't stop coming back. One by one, they were called in. One by one, they were thoroughly fucked.

She felt the hot flood inside her, another man’s claim mixing with the first. As she lay there panting, shuddering through the aftershocks, Sasha’s climax reached its peak. Kael was hammering into her ass with unstoppable force. “Come for me, Sasha,” he growled, gripping her shoulders. Sasha’s cry was sharp, a dagger of pleasure. Her body tightened, then convulsed. Kael held her through it, then drove his own release into her with a final, ground-out groan. For a moment, there was only the sound of heavy breathing, the smell of sex thick in the air.

My whole body was having a seizure : tits bouncing and wax falling off as I shook and sobbed. They didn’t stop. The thrusting continued through my orgasm, Another climax followed right after leaving me shaking and begging “Too much… too much… please… I can’t take it…” “You can and you fucking will, you worthless slut,” Lila snarled grabbing my jaw. “This greedy married hole belongs to the club now. We decide when it stops leaking.” The strap-on woman finally pulled out. My cunt gaped for a second : red, swollen, drooling a thick mix of squirt and wax.

“Well, men cheat all the time when their women can’t make them happy, or the other way around. When you were about to marry Revier, you were too naive. You barely had experience, not what you learned from sex education.” “What will you get with these types of questions, Mom?” I didn’t know if I should be embarrassed or grateful that she was concerned about my sex life. “And why right now? Can’t it wait until tea time?” “These girls have signed a tight NDA. They won’t talk, and besides, what’s so taboo about talking about sex? Even in the Middle Ages, women talked about sex and shared their experience so that young women like you wouldn’t be so naive on their wedding night.”

Except her. So out it came. The story of Peter and me. The story of a capable successful woman acting like a sex-enslaved bimbo over a man who was divine in bed but a selfish, ten-timing monster everywhere else ... Once I’d started, I couldn't stop. Amongst the sobs and hiccups, I blurted out things I’d never told anybody. How if Peter smiled that filmstar smile of his 1 was putty. How he’d make me beg for more of his perfect Joy of Sex fucking. How he’d make me climax in a way so expert I half expected a judge to pop up and give marks for technical merit. And how afterwards — while my body still sizzled — I'd wish I hadn't been so ‘easy’...

"I had no idea you were a squirter." Tina pulled away from my grip before she answered. She wouldn't look at me. "The first time I squirted during sex, a guy called me names—fat, stinky, a bed-wetter. The list goes on. It’s not all pretty, no matter how the media tries to make it look." She turned off the stove and moved to the closet. She stood on her tiptoes, reaching for the mugs. I stepped in behind her, trapping her body against mine, and reached around to grab the cups for her.

“I want you to write about these topics for me. These are sexual content, and I want a woman’s opinion on this.” I looked inside and saw a detailed topic about sexuality and women’s thinking. “But…” “Aoife, until now, men can discuss things easily, but for women, we were lost. I want you to write something that a woman wants, what she thinks. What’s her fantasy to reach her peak of sexuality?” I was gawking at him as he talked casually about sex and orgasms. “Aoife?” “Yes, but how can I write something like this? I am a storyteller.”