fiction
Erotic, romantic, and sexy fiction for the Filthy community.
Lesbian Fantasy (Chap. 2)
The bed was gold with golden sheets. The room smelled of expensive Bath and Body Works. In her silk underwear and Victoria Secret bra Shiya is peering out the door to the hotel room. “Be the look out!” a scared and timid Lolly musters. “I am I am, a clearly frustrated Shiya walks over to her “Ya know he’s not going to find you here... with me.” She says as she pulls at Lolly’s bra strap. Making it fall to her shoulders. This was all a too familiar feeling Lolly being here with her. Lolly dives her nose into the crook of Shiya’s neck. Smelling her scent on her sweet soft breast. She quivers as she kisses both nipples, sucking them into her mouth. Shiya gasps as her head goes backwards.” I want her. I need her. I would take her now before the feeling was gone.” But in the back of Lolly’s mind all she could think was how Jonas her husband would never know how she took Shiya her into her mouth. Her sweet wet cum dripping off her lips like a melting popsicle.
By PoetsCloset5 years ago in Filthy
The End of the Beginning
The end of the Beginning “Hello can I speak to Keisha?” a hesitant voice on the phone asked. “ um this is her…” I replied while grabbing my car keys, my lunch and scrambling out the door, I recognized the number from the doctors office, and the squeaky voice sounded only slightly familiar. I rolled my eyes it must be that new nurse that rubbed me the wrong way when I was in there last and they informed me I was somehow 11 weeks pregnant. The news of the pregnancy itself was depressing enough seeing that I had finally freed myself from the clutches of my ex and her cavalier persona didn’t sit well with me. Thinking back to our last encounter made me laugh in irony.. the baby had made me sick to my stomach the same way the thoughts of him did. I knew abortion wasn’t an option and with my career soaring adoption crossed my mind more than I wanted to admit. The flutters from feeling the first kicks always reminded me about the nervous butterfly feeling I got when I first met him.
By Ajeh Agbese5 years ago in Filthy
On Antarctica
Dan and Carol Oakes discussed safe words on their sofa after dinner one Friday evening. “Wahoo, or Cadbury?” Carol asked. Just two hours prior, Dan, rife with grief and butterflies in his belly, struggled to find the words to tell his wife that he’d RSVP’d them for a swinger’s event tomorrow evening. The soiree was being held in two parts: dinner at a fancy seafood restaurant tucked away two neighborhoods over off the G. The second, after dinner drinks, followed by an open invitation to the host’s place, for anyone that wanted. Excited, but also terrified, Dan Oakes gulped down two margaritas and a round of appetizers before he worked up the nerve to share how he got them involved. Perspiring under the candle light, and nervously rearranging his thinning hair, the words fell out of his mouth about as unartfully as he imagined they would.
By J. E. Sullivan5 years ago in Filthy
Project Genesis
Project Genesis; Maddox The hum of the machines was almost defending, the only other sound was that of Ester's labored breathing. I stared down at her. There was blood. A lot of it. The smell was sickening and made me throw up. Ester just laughed at me. "You get used to it, Maddox." She smiled up at me, through bloody lips. "Ya wanna know something?" I didn't reply so she kept talking. "I never really thought about how my story would end." She stopped to take a shaky breath. She was leaning against the tank, her long lags starched out in front of her. "I always figured it'd end in blood, but I never know how far I'd get. Ya know, if I'd really find her or not. I never thought past that." As I looked down at Ester my heart was smashed. She and her mission were the only things I'd cared about for the last six years. I'd modeled my life around them and now it was all over. I knew that I was just an extra in her story. That Ester was always the main character, the heroine or villainess, depending on where you stood. And I'd always stood behind her. Well almost always. "I'm sorry..." I looked at her puzzled, she'd never apologized for anything in her life. "Why?" It wasn't that she'd never done anything wrong, just the opposite. "For dragging you along with me. For killing that girl in front of you. Not for killing her mind you, just for doing it in front of you. And for coming to you that first night, I can't help but think it would have been better if I hadn't made it to you." Here she closed her eyes. "I loved you." She said it in a whisper as if she hadn't wanted me to really hear it, but had needed to say it. "I still love you, Ester." She opened her eyes and they stared up at me dark and gray. Then she coughed up a lot of blood.
By Sierra Reding5 years ago in Filthy
The Toucher in the Ranunculi
Claspen Nymfield found out one gusty afternoon that he had a gift, namely the aptitude and penchant to make women happy, or at least happier—the gift par excellence. He had finished his lunch in the flowery park, a few minutes’ walking distance from his confined office, when he noticed one of those beautiful women who could take your breath away with a smile let alone a direct glance, walking past him. He looked at her dotingly, trying to visualize some of the splendour beneath her clothes, when all of a sudden, he saw an image of nymphaea flickering in his mind, her labia minora, as he later surmised. He felt the craving to caress them, stroke them ever so lightly with the tips of his fingers and see them open up like a sex book, but he could not imagine that his longing could influence them and affect her directly. She had slowed her pace and then came to a complete stop, feigning forgetfulness of some sort at first, but then revealing some initial surprise followed by more than a trace of satisfaction.
By Patrick M. Ohana5 years ago in Filthy
DON
Emer's tears were ignored. The only person who could hear and witness her cries for help was the man who was responsible for them. Don's smooth tanned hand met Emer's pale face with a crack. Using duct tape to quieten the sounds that came from her cracked, dried, pink lips. Taking a step back, Don admired his work.
By Lolita Civic5 years ago in Filthy
Getting What I Need From an Affair
The good thing about having an affair is that we know what turns each other on. No “what if’s” or “I don’t feel like it” or “not now” crap. We don’t play games with each other. We want to be together at that moment more than anything else in our crazy lives.
By MonalisaSmiled 5 years ago in Filthy
