fiction

Erotic, romantic, and sexy fiction for the Filthy community.

EROTIC STORIES FOR WOMEN
I hear the signal on my phone and look to see who is at my door. I see you waiting outside so I open the door and say, “Can I help you”? You explain that your car is broke down up on the highway and you need help. You look beautiful even though you are soaking wet from the rain. I put on my raincoat and come outside and say, “Follow me”. I lead you to my barn and say, “I will pull your car back to the barn with my tractor because it is not safe for it to stay up there on the highway”. I explain that you need to come and steer your car and I see you looking at my tractor with a puzzled look on your face that clearly said where am I going to ride. I look at you and say, “I am sorry I know we just met but you are going to have to ride in my lap because these things were never designed for two riders”. You look uncomfortable so I take your hand and say,” My name is John and I am here to help”. You smile and say, “I am Sarah”. I climb up and fire up my tractor and wave for you to climb up. I move the seat all the way back so there is room as you sit down. I tell you to hold on to the steering wheel but allow me to steer. The tractor lurches forward as I put it in gear, and we head up my long driveway to the highway. I feel you bouncing in my lap with the motion of the tractor and my body betrays me as I start to get an erection. I squirm because I do not want you to feel it. You look at me with a naughty smile and say, “You just can’t hide it can you”. I smile and say, “I am busted”. We arrive at your car and I attach the tow rope while you get in your car. I put the tractor in gear and we slowly head back to my driveway and the long road that leads to my barn.
By John Harrington6 years ago in Filthy
The Beginning...
I bet you're wondering how the hell did she even end up in Room 125 to begin with. To be frank, she wonders the same damn thing. Oh, and "She" is none other than Ms. Liliana Prescott, or "Lili" for short. Let's see what she had been up to before 125.
By Feisty Bites6 years ago in Filthy
Good Witch
History is told by victors. It blurs facts to make them seem heroic and their enemy to be the villain when in reality they are just people doing what they think is best. The story I'm about to tell has been held close to my heart for many years. Something I wish I spoke up about long ago. About a good witch. A good witch named Samantha, she is one of these people I told you about, doing what she believed was best. She was thrust into a roll with no idea what it would mean for her. I suppose I should start from the start: a best friend and a night of fun.
By JazzLynn Fields6 years ago in Filthy
Zero Cell Logs #7
The tiles on the floor of the room Max was in shifted and various machines rose from beneath the surface. The panels on the ceiling shifted also as various equipment lowered themselves till they were hanging over her. The examination table that she was strapped to settled further into its position, tightening the straps that held her. Going on further a metal strap streamed out of the table and trapped her neck. The strap gently retreated into the table, enough to make the grip around her neck firm, yet at the same time loose enough to make sure her airway is in no way blocked. Through the camera I can see that she was biting her lip, her breathing was heavy and fast, and her heart rate was at an elevated level. Fascinating. To think some humans gain pleasure from being put in such a vulnerable position.
By Come Again6 years ago in Filthy
Room 125
Hmmm...room 125...that sounds familiar", she chuckled to herself. As she turned the key over and over in her hand, she couldn't help but to wonder the affect he would have on her this time. I mean it has been...a moment since her gaze met his. Lord knows the last time they crossed paths, he ignited a fire she didn't know she had, unfortunately now that flame will not blow out.
By Feisty Bites6 years ago in Filthy
An inconvenient apocalypse
The blood splashed all over the side of my face, ran down my neck and dripped onto my shoulder. I was nearly sick then and there, but I had to get moving. I didn't have any clothes on, you see, and I had to find something quickly so that I could get out of here pronto. All around me was chaos and screaming, but I had no time to get scared. I needed clothing fast, and a weapon; whatever I could get my hands on quickest.
By Karen Cave6 years ago in Filthy
Romanse
Read in my sex life story that during college days I started calling for pussy. My friend has set her setting in my room, so how did I fuck that girl?
By jitubanna16 years ago in Filthy
Sapphic Lust
There weren’t a lot of things that could shake Moira in her red pump heels. Her work as a journalist had toughened her skin. Every day she faced criticism, skepticism, and influential people who were intimidated by her aggressive and unapologetic style of working. It was a powerful skill to be able to manipulate her words just carefully enough to get information from the ordinarily zipped-up mouths of prominent figures in the community- businessmen, politicians, you name it. She could weasel around topics, sleuth through the spins and flips, to viper strike at the exact moment of vulnerability. Her reputation as an unmerciful interrogator proceeded her to the point where police departments all over the city had attempted to hire her.
By Lady Domitille6 years ago in Filthy
Sex-Toy Secrets
When I decided to walk into the Sex Shop that day, I was frazzled from working in my busy corporate office and dreading the journey home to cook dinner and clean up after my husband and two kids. I’d ripped my handbag, got my hair and makeup wrecked from the storm and even without a mirror, I knew that I looked a disaster.
By Marga Leather6 years ago in Filthy
Surprise!
It was so funny to me how everything went down because in no way, shape or form did I see it coming. In my mind, my quiet stalker moves would be seen as endearing and romantic therefore it would be rewarded with a chance to have Erikah in my life. Let me explain how all of this started.
By Kai Storm6 years ago in Filthy
The Photographer
She carefully checked the settings on her camera. She gave her clients a suitable list of hotels and AirBnbs that would provide for natural lightening. This kind of shoot wasn’t ideal for a studio or various kinds of light to capture “moments.” She found in the beginning her subjects were too aware of her in the room and her work looked forced, like amateur porn on Pornhub. She had studied a great deal before venturing into this unique experience as a photographer. It made her standout and there was an allure of voyeurism that people loved about it. And she made her subjects feel desirable and erotic. She could make a woman in a brown paper bag look like an artistic goddess.
By Betty Lee6 years ago in Filthy
See me.
The cobbled streets glisten, dewy with the ever-present nostalgia of last nights rain. My hands are tucked into the snug pockets of my coat, which hangs oversized above my hoodie. It's September now and the cold days are turning into colder nights; speckled raindrops hang, like moments frozen in time from sticky cobwebs on your window cill. I knock, once, twice, thrice. Always three times, and rush to put my hand, knuckles a fresh pink from the hard wooden door, back into its nest of warmth. You open the door with a click-clack of the lock and as ever, a huge smile on your face. "Marie" you beam, you always sound surprised to see me, even when you've known for days I'm coming over. "Mum" I smile, and I'm wrapped in your embrace, your arms squeezing around my shoulders, my hands still in the pockets, unwilling to risk the cold.
By Stacey6 years ago in Filthy