Written Erotica Novels & Stories

" She laughs, low, and leads me inside, her hips swaying just enough to catch my eye. I clench my fists, forcing myself to look at the city skyline twinkling outside the windows. We sit, the table a fragile barrier between us, plates of asparagus and roasted lamb steaming in the candlelight. The wine is robust, a deep red that stains her lips when she drinks. "So, AURORA PRESS," she says, leaning forward, her blouse dipping to show a hint of cleavage. "Erotica and literary fiction. Brave choice, Victor." Her tone is inquiring, but her eyes have a spark, a challenge. I nod, my throat tight. "I think I'm done with just Philosophy and lecture halls. I should start aiming to print erotic stories

She brought both breasts back to my penis and wet them again, and brought them back to my mouth. The next moment, she straddled me again, and checked my bondage's for tightness. I could definitely not move my hands or my legs. "Do you know what I read recently?" "No, what?" "I read a story that you posted online. It was called 'I want you to feed me'." I stared blankly,I'd forgotten that she read my sex stories online, sometimes, especially this one. "Uhhh yes well..." "Do you remember writing the story, do you remember what it was about?" As she questioned me, she was humping her open pûssy over the head and shaft of my cock.

“So do you know how to write foreplay, or sex scenes? You could help this writer with a few tips, you know. If that’s allowed as an editor. Theo took a sip of his wine, watching him from over the rim of his glasses. His erection was bulging painfully in his pants now, and he couldn’t really say how he’d gotten there. Could it be the wine? He wasn’t hard as fuck because his neighbor kept giving him a ridiculously slutty look that somehow blended sinfully with their conversation, right? “Would you like to find out?” He asked in a gruff voice, adjusting on the couch as his erection pressed into his thighs. “What?” “If I’m good at writing foreplay and sex scenes?”

We began talking erotically to each other during our love making and her use of dirty words, something she had never done before, always resulted in strong orgasms from both of us. I think the event that lead to our sexual breakthrough was when we decided to put our fantasies on paper. We were sitting around reading and drinking coffee one night when the subject of sex came up. I was feeling a bit bold that evening so I began pestering her about her fantasies. I wanted her to tell me what she fantasized about when she was alone masturbating. This was still a difficult subject for her so after some prodding with little results I had an idea. We would each take ten cards and envelopes and writ

The soap and water made everything glisten. Wren’s redhead freckles were close to Mira’s cheek. “I’ll start on her clit,” Wren instructed softly, her eyes locked on Tessa’s arousal. “You take her opening. Lick inside. Get her wetter than she already is.” Mira nodded, a jolt of pure, nasty excitement shooting through her. She leaned in, her mouth opening. Tessa’s scent, even through the soap, was musky and sweet, the scent of a woman who’d been fucking hard and loved it. Mira’s tongue extended, flat and pointed, and she pressed it against Tessa’s lower labia, tracing the smooth, fleshy fold.

Definitely not trying to seduce just the steam sticking to the mirror, the accidental press of bodies in the tight space, the forbidden pull of best friend's brother coming into my house. His eyes went down to my lips, which were open in a gasp, and then down to the very quick breathing of my chest, the nipples of my breasts through the fabric being stretched. "Lila..." His voice roughened, free hand twitching at his side, fighting the pull. Mine mirrored, rising to his chest to push? Or steady? The touch lingered, feeling his heart thunder under my palm. The seduction bloomed unintentional: humidity making my skin glow, his drunk haze blurring lines, our the steam.

Hazel sat in front of her laptop, the blank white document staring back at her like a mirror. Usually, writing a client’s script—especially one with erotica themes—had never been difficult. She knew the formula: gentle descriptions, slow pacing, a hint of seduction. But tonight… her fingers couldn’t stay still. Every time she tried to type, Diego’s face appeared in her mind. His hawk-like eyes that held mysteries yet made her feel lost at the same time. His deep voice dragging each word like an illicit secret. The way he’d stared at her for just a moment too long, as if he knew exactly what she hid behind her professional smile.

"He's not the type of man who would find himself in the wrong bedroom, or under the wrong covers, seeking a heat that doesn't belong to him. He is a pillar of virtue. He knows that secret sins are the heaviest burdens to carry." The double entendre was so thick it was a wonder the guests didn't choke on it. Ryder was vibrating with a primal, sexual energy. The way she was weaponizing his own faith against him, the way she was standing there looking like a virginal saint while speaking the language of a seasoned sinner, turned him on more than any physical touch could. He wanted to lunge across the table, rip that pink dress off her, and fuck her right there in front of the centerpieces and t

of what sounded like a hand or belt against skin, followed by a woman’s whimper. I bit my lip hard, slipping my hand under my nightdress. My fingers found my soaked folds and started rubbing furiously. More slaps. More whimpers. Then the unmistakable wet sound of him thrusting into her. “My lord… I’m going to cum—” the woman whimpered. “You will do no such thing,” Lord Blackwood snarled. “You begged me to fuck this filthy cunt. Now you’ll take everything I give you.” I shoved two fingers inside myself, thrusting them in time with the sounds I imagined were his hips slamming against her. My other hand braced against the wall as I fucked myself desperately to his voice.

“Tonight. Here in the loft after we eat.” “Okay.” He pulled me close and kissed me soft. “You sure you are ready? We can stop anytime.” “I am sure. I want you to make me come hard from both holes.” He kissed my forehead. “Then tonight. I will go slow at first, lube everywhere. Make sure you are relaxed.” “Thank you.” “Tell me more about what you wrote. What else?” “I wrote about squirting, overstimulation. You pounding me until I lose count of orgasms.”