Erotic Desires Publication

Read these hot and spicy tales from Erotic Desires Publication. Stories to entice your wildest Erotic Desires. Cum and take a taste of our hot and spicy tales! Owned by Laura Knapke. (Nap-Key)

Now you can read our hot tales for free on specially marked stories! Read these spicy tales written by talented erotic writers!

The doorbell rang, and I jumped up from her cozy spot on the living room couch to answer it. I plodded over to the front door wearing a soft pink hoodie, black yoga pants, and pulled on my ponytail, tightening it as I took in a deep breath. It was these Friday nights I always looked forward to, spending the quiet evening watching the week’s episode of ‘The Bachelor’ with my best friend Jillian while both of our husbands were deployed to Afghanistan. They were both deployed with their units for the last two months, and I was missing my husband more each day.

“Hey girlfriend!” Jillian squealed as she popped through my front door, carrying a tote bag full of fresh limes, gin, and tonic water. “I brought us our favorite drinks!” Meeting Jillian six months ago when we moved to the Fort Huachuca base in Arizona. I hadn’t found work yet, and the days were painfully lonely. I met Jillian when I was out on my daily run, as she was pushing her then two-year-old daughter in a jogging stroller.

Jillian was so warm and friendly, and we immediately started spending more time together from that sunny spring day forward. Jillian began mixing our drinks, slicing up the limes as I started mixing our drinks with ice to watch our saved episodes. Our Friday nights became a sacred ritual together — Jillian loved to leave her little one home with the babysitter, and we both loved catching up on neighborhood gossip, our latest life updates, and girl bonding in general…

I have decided to share some events at work. This is my first attempt, but not the first interesting evening at work. It was a Monday night. Since voluntarily changing to an evening shift from 3:00 pm to midnight, my evenings became much more exciting.

The day shift supervisor and other workers started leaving around 4:00 pm, and the evening started to slow down. The busy part of the year was finishing, units were heading back to their home bases, and it was starting to get slow, except for tonight.

About 7:00 pm, I watched the TV across the room. I heard a door slam and looked to the right. From down the hall, a Marine sticks his head around the corner, whispering, “Hey, I lost my key.” He walked out of the hallway naked, not covering himself…

As the fog of euphoric bliss gradually lifted in the wake of my shattering release, a creeping sense of disquiet began to seep into the edges of my consciousness. A nagging flicker of guilt and shame that steadily swelled into harsh reality with every ragged inhale.

The thick, cloying musk of our comingled arousal hung heavy in the air — an obscene miasma that should have been my first hint of the depraved acts recently committed in this space we’d once regarded as a respected workplace. I swallowed thickly around the lump forming in my throat, tremulous gaze sweeping over the devastated tableau surrounding me.

Chairs were overturned and disheveled across the plush carpet. Other office implements strewn haphazardly in our frantic throes of passion. The once-pristine oak table I was still draped over was now slick with puddles of our spent fluids, the polished veneer marred by scores of crescent-shaped…

Alix and Charlotte, cousins who graduated from a university in Washington D.C., were taking the summer off before they needed to behave like adults and get jobs. Their first stop was Paris, where they met with a college friend named Isabella.

Isabella made friends in Paris and picked up work as a nude model for a well-known photographer. She had a network of artists, writers, and wealthy arts patrons.

Isabella introduced Alix and Charlotte to Alexandre, a fine art photographer. He was taken with them. Alix and Charlotte were tall, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. Even dressed in tight jeans and form-fitting T-shirts, men would stop and turn around to look at them as they passed on the street…

It started so innocently — just a few lingering glances across the conference room, a brush of his hand against the small of my back as we headed out to lunch meetings. At first, I tried to convince myself that it was all in my head. Guilt and curiosity distorting innocent behavior into something more salacious.

But with each passing week, the heat between Michael and I grew more palpable, the tension so thick I could practically taste the forbidden desire hovering in the air. The way his piercing hazel eyes slowly raked over my body during presentations, like he was mentally undressing me in front of my colleagues. Or how his broad, muscular frame would casually crowd into my personal space — the potent musk of his expensive cologne enveloping me, making my head spin.

I’m normally not the type to entertain such inappropriate fantasies. I have a wonderful husband, an upper-middle class home in the suburbs, everything a woman could want from the picture-perfect life. But Michael…there was just something about the way he moved and spoke that commanded respect, obedience. An aura of raw, unbridled masculinity that spoke directly to the most primal depths of my psyche…

It’s late morning, and the snowstorm outside is angrier than ever, as I heard the howling wind and watched the snow pile up through the living room windows. For all I knew, we may end up buried in the stuff. And yet, that wasn’t what scared me. The real fear for me as a millennial blogger — if anything — was the loss of the internet. And so, I typed on and on, trying to get as much done before anything bad could happen.

Meanwhile, there was my girlfriend, Kacy, who was laying on the couch. She all bundled up and scrolled through her phone with her thumb in her mouth, a quirk of hers, which was a pet peeve of mine for the longest time. Until now.

“I’m bored,” Kacy groaned, her red hair spread all over the pillow she rested her head on. “Seriously, this is the millionth time I’ve scrolled through TikTok today, and there’s absolutely nothing interesting.”

My day starts stressed out, and as usual, my stomach starts fluttering. The same nervous butterflies I get every time I’m going to meet up with my sexy lover-boy! Except today is a little different, it seems. Only because I’m stressed and overwhelmed by all other aspects of my life, and I try to push all thoughts away, as I know that to have a good sexual experience, I’m going to need to be “relaxed,” and I try to get myself there.

I text him, say good morning, and ask him if 10:30ish is good for him. We usually get together earlier and have more time, but I’ve been taking care of a few things, and then he returns my text message with a simple “No”.

My heart starts racing, my hands begin to shake, and my mind goes blank as I’m standing there dumbfounded, thinking he meant NO that we weren’t going to get together, not “No” that 10:30 wasn’t good…

A woman that set her sights on relaxation might have gotten more than she paid for

 

She stood in the line for the front desk. She knew it was a bad time to go out of town, but the social pains of work and the male gaze just got to her. She pulled the date closer, and now here she is. In line waiting for her turn to get her vacation started. The people around her were well groomed and dressed. The women were in their most beautiful dresses and men in their three piece suits. They walked around her like they own the world. ‘They might as well do’ she thought as her eyes bounced from every passer by.

“Mrs. Jane Wells”, the receptionist called Jane back to reality.

“Yes, sorry I was in my own world,” she smiled.

“It’s alright ma’am, most newcomers usually are.”

Every Saturday at 11 a.m. sharp, I dress in my sexiest lingerie and outfit to meet my three best friends for our weekly date. I have a proclivity and need to get off every Saturday with one of my friends. Each week, we randomly choose our partners, but to be honest, my favorite is Marissa.

When I arrive, my friends are already there, and I love admiring how they chose to dress that Saturday — hair up in a ponytail, deep cleavage, or a short skirt. It’s always a surprise.

I’m also generally thoroughly wet when I get there.

Marissa greeted me with a sensual lick of her lips. We usually start with a sip of champagne and some small talk, spending a lot of time complimenting each other’s makeup and clothes. After a quick catch-up on the latest gossip, silence falls, signaling that we’re ready for business…

With Briseida, we have been excellent companions for a long time. However, we know each other well in bed. As we mostly have a lot of sex constantly. We met at a gathering where people read books of all kinds, and then at that time, we matched in a similar college. Our friendship has developed further in the long run.

Briseida is a lovely young woman, with wavy orange hair, fair skin, and a nice body. She has sexual preferences that the vast majority would describe as bizarre, but she and I are both liberal. So I recognize her with each of her obsessions, and she acknowledges me with mine.

We’ve done numerous things together, in sex, we’ve gone wild over everything. That night was dynamite; we crossed all the lines by doing extremely dirty things…

Lorenzo was as hot as the sun. I craved his touch, desiring to seduce him. The bulge in his swim trunks made my pussy tingle and mouth water when he climbed out of the pool, water running down his tan muscular body.

When my parents told me they were sponsoring a foreign exchange student, I pictured some geeky dork with acne all over his face from a third world country that didn’t speak a word of English. Needless to say, I wasn’t too thrilled with the idea. I know I’m a bit shallow, but oh well.

They drove to the airport to bring him home, insisting I go with them. I argued up and down not to go, but dad insisted, saying it would make him feel welcome if we were all present. I really didn’t care, but that was about to change…

The rich aroma of expensive cologne and subtle, woodsy aromas enveloped my senses, as a pair of highly-polished oxfords smoothly pivoted into view. I couldn’t stifle the husky, weakened mewl that escaped my swollen, lipstick-smeared lips at the sight — my raw, convulsing depths hungrily fluttering in fresh desperation.

“Well, well…looks like the new office amenity is already falling into its proper role as our premium cock sleeve with remarkable ease,” the cool, unbothered baritone remarked with a trace of dark amusement. “Although I must say, this hardly seems a fitting state for greeting your new superior and owner on the first official day.”

The rich timbre resonated through me like a tuning fork against a taut cord, stoking fresh tides of heated arousal even in my current debauched condition. I could only shudder and whimper as a deceptively delicate fingertip traced the sticky, obscene runnels of seed saturating my inner thighs — dragging that molten smear back towards my puffy, swollen folds with casual disregard for my overstimulated keen….

This is the story of Adrian, a 20-something, white, skinny, charming young man with a one-piece body worked out at the rec center.

He goes out with his girlfriend, companions, and girlfriends, and things end up happening.

The day started typically, I dressed energetically for the event, a tight sweater, a dark overcoat, and thin pants. Apart from wearing my hat, something I cared much about, I went home to my better half Ana’s house, and from that point, we met our companions at a bar for drinks.

Ana is blonde, extremely pretty in the face, with nice long straight hair, really slim with big boobs and a round but tiny butt.

We introduced ourselves at the place and met our companions. The most bizarre thing was to meet Martu, whom I called with an epithet. However, she was Martina, even though Martu was an old friend of mine whom I had not seen, since we had sexual relations before meeting Ana…

It was Friday, and after lunch, I decided to skip some of my classes and visit my stepsister Maya at her new place. She and her husband Frank got married earlier that year, and I used to keep her company in the evenings until Frank got home from work.

As soon as I arrived, I let myself in and immediately heard sounds from the master bedroom. Maya should’ve been at work, and I expected to chill around the house alone for a while, so the sounds freaked me out. Frank and Maya shouldn’t be home yet, but I didn’t want to end up calling the police on my stepsister. However, if I just ran off, then they might come back to find their house robbed. I figured I’d just sneak close enough to see who it was, and then skip out.

The door to the master bedroom was partially open, and I snuck my head cautiously, for a glimpse of who was inside. To my surprise, it was my stepsister, naked,.. slamming a huge black dildo in and out of her pussy.

A mistake on an app led to an unexpected journey of lust

 

Jesse sat on her bed, her nails were done pink that was vibrant with her olive skin. She looked down at her phone, it had a few new notifications on it. The new app she downloaded found her a new match. Which was weird, since she hasn’t opened the app in a month. She looked down and slightly laughed to herself. The new match was a woman.

She was sexy, but she was looking for a guy to make her night. The app never had that great picks in the first place. She looked at the woman’s profile. She had a decent job, her hobbies aligned with Jesse’s. The woman seemed normal, sexy, but normal. She swiped right and put her phone down, not sure why she was matched with a woman.

She looked at her own profile, nothing changed but her preferences. She went deeper and saw that it had changed from just men to both men and women. She refreshed the app to make sure it was just a mistake. When she reopened the app, the woman had messaged her…

Sign Up For The Monthly Newsletter For Updates And Special Offers!

Scroll to Top