Women's Sex Stories Novels & Stories

You have to claim them. When he’d gone, because I wasn’t finished yet, I lay on the rumpled bed, and brought myself off with my fingers. I thought of how he’d behaved earlier, sadistic and cruel, reveling in my cries from the pinch of the clamps and the slam of his cock. Then I fell asleep for an hour or so. When I woke, my hair was in a crazy, damp tangle and my breasts were a mess of scratch marks and blotches. And he was probably eating wild turbot because he usually does when it’s on expenses at Saxby’s. I would too. The point I’m making: sex isn’t like it is in the movies; it isn’t even like porn. Sex isn’t like anything except itself.

When they saw each other they both laughed and looked at each other very mischievously, then Raquel told her: -Yes, yes, yes of course, of course I have and I have had my little gray hairs in the air, but all without any commitment and with certain conditions, that I set myself. -So how's that, let's see, I'm curious. -A well, first of all that he's not married and that, just like me, he doesn't want any commitment and you know, but I haven't fallen in love so it's just been sex and nothing more than sex.

Gоd, if hе could hear the thіngѕ that I thіnk, іf any mаn соuld hе’d bе ѕhосkеd. Thеу tell thеmѕеlvеѕ thаt wоmеn dоn’t think about ѕеx hаlf аѕ muсh аѕ thеу dо, but thеу’d be ѕurрrіѕеd. I hаvе thоughtѕ lіkе thаt аll thе tіmе.

3 holds her head in place, moaning loudly as she did. On the other end, I circle my tongue over No. 2's clit while Mr Sterling's cock slams into me, stretching me and making me scream against her skin. The room is chaos now, full of moans, cries, the smell of sex and the sound of balls slapping against pussy. ... And the mirrored ceiling above reflects us, three Agency top models, taken one after the other and together by one married older man who hasn't even taken off his tie. I cum loudly, shaking and trembling, and he pulls out at the last second, stroking himself over all three of us.

"It's a fact that a woman sleeps with five men. She's a whore, used, dirty, and easy. A guy, though, sleeps with 20 in the same timeframe, and bravo, he's amazing, he's good, and it's funny." She's not wrong; many do see it that way, but she's also wrong. "People who see it differently purely because he's a man are sexist pigs. Their view makes no difference." I don't care how many men have used her for their pleasure. It won't stop me from falling in love with her every day I see her. "And you?" She whispers, and I peer at her. "What is your story? Or are you the sane, unbroken one? The one who has nothing but light in his life?"

But then the feeling slipped away like I was holding water with open fingers. I growled, frustrated, and reached for the rabbit. Then the glass. Then everything. I came close. So close I wanted to cry. But still, nothing. No orgasm. No release. Just an ache that wouldn’t quit and a hunger I couldn’t feed. I was a married woman. Picture-perfect. Celeste, local boutique owner, clean reputation, diamond on my left hand but I have never had an orgasm. Not once, not from my fingers, not from toys, not even during sex.

She used another finger to circle around her clit the way she had when she was lying on the bed. “If you start now, Juliette,” he warned. But, she continued. Her nipples were dark buds against the cream colored lace and with a light tug he released them to the air. “The breeze feels good,” she sighed, leaning against the building, touching herself, as her breasts tightened in response to the spring air. “I’ve been wet all day,” She said her eyes hooded and full of honest desire. “I’ve been vibrating, pulsing for more. I tried earlier to satisfy myself, but I can’t,” she complained, and stuck a finger inside herself.

His hand touched my lower back once, just to guide me past some people. That small touch made my skin burn. I wanted his hands under my dress right now, grabbing my bare ass hard. I felt his hard cock press against me for a second when he got closer. My pussy clenched tight and more wetness soaked my panties. When we got to the women's bathroom, I pushed the door open fast. It was empty. I stepped inside. Rune came in right after me and locked the door. The click made my heart jump. He didn't wait.

"Tell me how much better he is—how his cock owns you now." She did, her voice breaking into filthy cries. "Oh God, it's so much bigger than yours! He's hitting spots you never could—fucking me like the whore I am!" Richard flipped her onto all fours, pounding from behind, his hand cracking against her ass, leaving red marks. Her pussy clenched around him, milking that veiny monster, and she screamed my name just like I wanted. "Yes, baby! For you—our anniversary cum dump!" The room reeked of sex, sweat and pussy, her body trembling as another orgasm built.

The touch lingers. I shift, pressing my thighs together. My pussy is already getting wet. This is ridiculous. They’re just being nice. But my body hasn’t been touched properly in weeks, and something about the way they look at me—like they can see straight through my polite smiles—makes me clench. Clara sets her wine down and scoots closer on my other side. “Let’s help you relax. Tell us what you really need out here.” The conversation drifts. They share stories about the other wives in the neighborhood. The secret parties. The way certain husbands travel and certain wives… entertain themselves. Their laughter is low and knowing.