fiction
Erotic, romantic, and sexy fiction for the Filthy community.
Halloween Carnival Series: The Bone Keeper
I was ready to curl up with a good horror novel and some ginger tea but the loud sound of glass breaking caused me to pause my nightly routine and head downstairs. Turning on the lights, I searched every room until I found the broken window, the wind blowing through the small hole in the bay window in the living room. I sighed with contempt, and bent over to pick up the rock someone had thrown through my window.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
Live and Let Bone
Chester strolled along the beach; it had been a long mission and his feet were glad for the warm sand and cool waves. He swiftly scooped his dark hair up into a ponytail and smiled at the two blondes checking him out at the bar. One of them winked and he was about to head over when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He stopped abruptly as a chill ran over him, something must have gone wrong with the mission. Slowly, Chester lifted the phone to his ear, “Hello?”
By Mary Manson8 years ago in Filthy
Please More Pleasure Baby and Don't Stop
I know it was wrong, I'm sure it was wrong to think of him like I am when he's standing across the hall from me with his woman latched onto his arm. It was fine, sooner or later she'll let him go and I'll scope him away for myself, just a little bit. I'll give him back, this time anyways.
By Paige Kostyniuk8 years ago in Filthy
Dance Studio Heat
6pm Friday night. The rest of the interns are gone and I can now finally have this classroom become what it really is. I pulled off my slacks to reveal my comfortable, nude tights and unbuttoned my shirt to stay in just a white tank. I slipped out from my black flats to put on my pink dance slippers and tie them up the ankles. Point, flex, point, flex.
By Aurea Gonzalez8 years ago in Filthy
Becoming Daddy's Girl
Selene sat in her seat listening to the lecture, or so it appeared, like any good little girl should. Her left hand was resting on her cheek with her elbow on the desk as the teacher droned on about the newest equations and how to figure them out. Inventories; how to keep track of the products that needed ordering, how many sold, and how to figure what the estimated profit should be.
By January Greene8 years ago in Filthy
Subject of MisTranslation (Pt 1)
Upon arrival to the auction, the slave trader walked me in collar and leash, with only a robe to cover my nakedness. I was not ashamed, it just felt so odd not having my usual clothes, but then again, I hadn’t been wearing clothes for a month now so it really couldn’t be that different. Master (slave trader), led me to the center of the warehouse where he had set up the “stage” for my display, the stand with my new and only outfit, and the booths for the potential buyers to relax in privacy with a full view of me until the auction was complete. Master removed the robe, and told me to kneel; I did so immediately. Sitting on my knees, hand turned up on my thighs, knees spread fairly far apart, back straight, chin up, and eyes down. I waited for everyone to arrive and my auction to begin. About fifteen minutes later, the first Buyer was escorted in and shown to his booth, approximately five minutes later the next buyer was shown in and so on until all six buyers had been seated. The booths were soundproof, with a microphone which was connected to Master’s headset for communication.
By Amanda Tucker8 years ago in Filthy
Royally Flushed
The king had never looked at me with anything but indifference. In fact, his eyes had never met mine until now. My service was to clean his chambers and tend to his wife. But tonight, his eyes were laid upon me with a fierceness I knew not what to do with. His eyes were whiskey-colored, the kind that all the women in the village squirmed underneath their petticoats for. And now it was my turn to feel the king's burning gaze upon my flushed cheeks.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
My Favorite Kind of Drink
At a bar having drinks, we sit down at a table. The bar is dark and music is playing, people are talking to each other, and we order another round to our table. This table is perfect for me to begin teasing you, so I start to lightly run my fingers up and down the inside of your thighs. You look at me and as you look into my eyes I know you can tell what's about to happen. As I slide my hand up and down your thigh I get closer to your pussy, lightly brushing the outside of my hand against you. I feel you getting warmer and your body begins to move in anticipation. You whisper in my ear that you want me to touch you, you grab my wrist and slide my hand up to touch your wet pussy. I grab the back of your neck and pull you close to kiss you. As we kiss I tease you with the tip of my finger, just feeling you so wet and touching you but not fully putting my finger inside you. You try to get me to go deeper but I wont. I continue to tease you as I drink my drink and watch the people walk by our table. I breath in your ear and down your neck wanting to bite you but instead I lick and kiss your neck and shoulder. I watch you as your body moves for me to touch it. I lean over and tell you to finish your drink and then I'll go inside you.
By Wilder Easton8 years ago in Filthy
Beauty Queen
She could feel his eyes on her. Burning into her skin. With a simple hook of her leg on the solid pole, she slid her herself down. Purposely falling into her customers lap. Her bottom slid against the ridge of his jeans, causing it to swell and bulge. A grin formed on her red-colored lips. She loved getting that reaction from men. But her profession wasn't just to strip. It was art. The art of sensual dancing. Sliding naked thighs against a pole might pay the bills, but she respected herself enough to not take off her clothes. Instead, she seduced her audience with her eyes. The sensual swaying of her hips. Her sexy smile. She had them every single time. This gentleman was one of her more recent customers. He caught her gaze one night while she was performing her most famous routine, the red rose. She smiled at him through her dark red mask, his hazel eyes growing a shade darker. Desire. She loved the very meaning of the word. She lived on it. Breathed on it. She used it in her dances. Anyone can dance. But actually having the desire to perform for your audience was a totally different thing.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
Need Me: Part 2
Overbooking myself with meetings was how I decided to punish myself for crossing the professional line with Lucas. We had rules for a reason. They kept us in line, away from trouble, away from dire consequences. Knowing you weren't supposed to test certain waters with your employees did nothing to stop the lust parade Lucas invited me into last week. How could I face him now? What if he filed a sexual harassment suit?
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
