Hot Steamy Novels & Stories

"Peter, should I go faster?" I was on my knees on the yoga mat, leaning forward, my hips moving in sharp, rapid motions. Meanwhile, my hands just kept working my chest, squeezing and rubbing. Behind me, the rest of the class just watched, their eyes fixed on the way my body moved. "Not bad. Keep that pace. Now let's move on to some hands-on practice." As soon as the instructor said that, he pulled off his pants and positioned himself beneath me.

I was in the middle of hosting an important international meeting when my younger brother’s sudden call interrupted me. On the other end, his voice was low and trembling. "Matt, someone took my spot for the exchange student program." I rushed to his school right away, only to find him cornered in an office, his eyes slightly red. A cocky-looking boy was pointing at Tim’s nose, his face full of arrogance. "You want to compete with me? I’m the heir of the Smiths in Ardenford. My mom just donated an entire lab building to the school! Who do you think you are?" Even the teacher nearby spoke up in support of him. "Timothy, the Smiths are one of our school’s major benefactors. You’d better be sensible and not cause any trouble." I was about to step forward and confront them when those words—the Smiths in Ardenford—made me stop cold. The Smiths in Ardenford? Since when did my mom have a third son besides me and my brother, Timothy? I immediately dialed her number, a cold laugh slipping from my lips. "Mom, when did you have another son behind Dad’s back?"

"Miss, help me suck on this part. Yes, suck it even harder…" In order to help me regain my ability to get my manhood up, Wendy Dyer, the beautiful young woman before me, is currently crouching before me while doing her best to suck on my willy as hard as she can. Wendy is my cycling instructor. She has accidentally crashed into my crotch due to an accident. That's why she's anxiously helping me regain my ability to get it hard. The thing is, I can already feel the way her mouth is wrapped around my length. Right now, I'm enjoying how tight her mouth is. What I don't expect is that… Wendy's actions have caused my manhood to react to her…

During the party, my blind date brushed his hand against my thigh under the table. There were people passing by us, so I had to push down my desire. He had sun-kissed skin, and his body was hard and muscular. Later, in the car on the way home, he asked me if I wanted to…

"Mr. Charlton… Please don't… I could get pregnant…" On Christmas Eve, my best friend pulled me along to help cover for her and her boyfriend. After several rounds of drinks, a burning hand slipped beneath the fabric of my tight dress. It moved slowly over me, stroking and teasing, as a man's low voice murmured by my ear, "Relax… I'm only touching. I won't go any further."

My husband has an identical twin brother. Forget me. Their own parents can't tell them apart. Three years of marriage, and Logan has been perfect. Devoted, patient, bends over backwards for me. I could not name a single real flaw in that man. Except one. He and his brother like to swap lives, just to see if anyone notices. And the day I figured that out, I was already sitting on his brother's lap, two minutes from crossing a line I could not uncross.

I'm a campus belle who's addicted to carnal pleasures. The frequent triggers caused by my addiction have heavily affected my and Michael Buckley, my boyfriend's lives and studies. Left without a choice, Michael and I can only head over to the campus clinic to undergo treatment that helps me cut down on my addiction. The one administering treatment to me happens to be a well-built doctor. The way he treats me shocks me to no end. Later on, he straps me to the examination table. I'm so frightened that I keep begging him to release me with tears running down my cheeks. But he responds by lifting my legs roughly.

My name is Haley Dixon. Ever since I was young, I knew I was different from other women. Other women have only one passage, but I have two—and both are extremely narrow. I'd heard that my mother was originally pregnant with twins, but a genetic mutation during the pregnancy caused my twin sister to die in the womb. I absorbed the part of her body that became my second passage, along with all of her estrogen. That was why I had a stronger desire than other women. As a teenager, I could use my little toys for up to four hours and still want more. For a while, I was almost proud of myself. I thought a rare treasure like me would be cherished and fiercely loved by any boyfriend. But after five consecutive boyfriends—every single one of them—bolted at the final moment, terrified by what they saw in my pants, calling me a monster and worrying I'd suck them in, I finally realized: maybe this wasn't being "different." Maybe this was a disease. But going to the hospital didn't help. Instead, they told me that my long-term use of foreign objects had led to an addiction disorder. I cried. Why did a monstrous woman like me have to suffer from this? Still, I didn't have time to wallow in misery, because the addiction tormented me day and night, stealing my peace and my sleep. So I went online and bought the largest set of toys I could find. Within just half a month, I'd broken them all—and my mild addiction had become severe. The toys were useless. It seemed I needed a man. But I no longer dreamed of finding a boyfriend. As long as someone could give me relief, any man would do. I signed up for a hookup app and chose the username: Double-Hole Slut.

"S-Stop it! You guys are far too big for me! I can't handle you at all!" In the dark slums, a few impoverished men have me lifted in mid-air. I can feel four pairs of rough, callused hands parting my slender legs, revealing my panties. "And here you are, pretending to be pure and innocent! Look at how wet you are right now! You must be yearning for our touch, right?" After that, the men rip off my damp panties before pinning me down…

"Mr. Hill, I feel so itchy! My dad has already left, so hurry up and scratch my itch for me with your finger!" At the dining table, my friend, Leon Shaffer's daughter, Maya Shaffer, has had too many oysters, causing her hormones to go out of whack. As such, her libido has risen considerably. Maya is wearing a miniskirt at the moment. Right now, she's parting her legs in front of me, revealing her white panties seductively. I'm used to not feeling a woman's touch all year round. The sight of the young woman's most private parts makes my heart pound wildly and my blood sing in my ears. So, I respond by freeing my manhood from my zipper before wagging it at Maya. "There's nothing good about my finger! Why don't I use this willy of mine for the job?"