fiction
Erotic, romantic, and sexy fiction for the Filthy community.
The Lovers: Part 4, The Truth
He observed every detail of her apartment. From the sleek white curtains, to the black soft carpet beneath his bare feet. He wanted to know more about her, from what she liked to do first thing in the morning to the secrets he knew she kept from him. He smiled as he observed the pink marble counter that topped off the island in the kitchen. The appliances were solid black. He remembered her fascination with those two colors. He didn’t think anything of it, but now having seen her apartment, he knew she wasn't kidding.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
Lynette
Comes in many forms... Summer city smells: diesel, carbon monoxide, fast food, a feint hint of sewage, vegetable stalls and then....and then.. a pub. Clothes sticking to your back from a very long long... long work. You look inside. Friendly shadows, men subdued, talking in murmurs and the smell... Oh! the smell.. Stale beer, fresh beer and all the glorious stages in between up to and including the last.
By kelvin matchett8 years ago in Filthy
The Lovers: Part 3, The Elevator
The rain was pouring down heavily as they pulled up in front of her apartment. She was still recovering from her last earth shattering orgasm. Her thighs quivered as she exited the car, taking his hand. He led her into the building, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand, making sure her fire was still burning into thick flames beneath her skin.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
The Lovers: Part 2, The Joyride
He was still hard when they settled themselves into her car. And she wasn’t making it any easier. She’d been teasing him ever since he stepped on the gas pedal. The way she tilted her head slightly to the side, exposing her neck, letting him see how he had left his mark on her with his teeth. He grinned at that. He liked that she wasn’t afraid of letting loose, going crazy, letting him make her feel good.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
Bloom Chapter 1
The rooms are always dark whenever we first arrive to a new place. It disorients us, makes us easier to control—or at least move. The hands that pressed against my back were hot and clammy. The thick sausage fingers of the woman’s hand felt as if I wasn’t wearing the thin robe.
By Nikki Colligan8 years ago in Filthy
The Dance
She saw him from across the room. His stare caught hers with enough magnetic heat radiating between them to make the whole room humid. She walked through the dancing crowd, grinding bodies surrounding her, loud dance music filling her ears. Once she made it to where she saw him last, he was gone. Disappointment filled her, but the aching between her legs was growing to an unbearable state. She couldn't get enough of him. His kiss turned her on more than melted chocolate. His touch burned her skin. His smile, making promises of promiscuity, drove her crazy. Crazy with want, need, lust. And ultimately, love. She ordered a drink from the bar, an apple martini, which was her favorite. As soon as she finished it, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She craned her neck to the side and saw him. A wicked grin curved on his lips, an invitation to follow him. So she did. She followed him, going up a flight of stairs and ending up on the roof of the club. Her eyes studied the gates surrounding the edges of the roof top, and suddenly he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. She could feel his hard length against her stomach now. She was getting to him and she wanted nothing more than to make him feel good.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
Declare War
"Why me?" She crossed her palms in her lap as she watched him stir the cream into his coffee. She was too nervous to try and lift a hot beverage to her lips. She studied the curve of his knuckles, admiring the faint, downy hairs that traced up his arm, recalling what he looked like underneath the rolled sleeves as his arm flexed. Good arms.
By Amy Cookson8 years ago in Filthy
Forbidden Sighs
They were standing too close. His girlfriend by his side, her boyfriend by hers. And it was crazy to even think about him ripping her clothes off when her boyfriend was sitting right next to her. But the craving was too thought-consuming. She wanted him. Badly. And by the way he kept looking at her, he wanted her just as much, maybe even more. And finally, she had to go to the kitchen to get away from him. She dipped her hands under the cool water coming from the faucet and washed her hands with cold water, splashing it onto her face as well. She took the small towel from the refrigerator door and patted off the excess water from her face. As she turned around to rejoin the others, she bumped into a hard chest. She swallowed hard and looked up. It was him. Oh, but he looked damn good. Too deliciously bad for his own good. She decided to take what was left of her common sense and tried to walk away, but he stopped her. The towel in her hand dropped to the floor, and she couldn't dare to look at him. He tipped her chin up and made her. She met his hungry gaze, which skimmed down to her lips and back up to her eyes. She licked her dry lips and in a second, his mouth crushed hers. There was nothing gentle about it and she expected nothing else from a starving man.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
The Lovers: Part 1, The Arrival
Her fingertips twist around the ends of her hair. She was nervous, practically shaking with anticipation. Her sweaty palms rubbed over her jeans, while her eyes were glued to the digital clock posted up near the departure announcements.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
A Dream
I remember the face but not the name. I remember both her hands fit perfectly in one of mine as they were pinned above her head. As I kissed her lips I traced her body with my fingers. I pull her up to peel her blouse from her body. As I lay her back down her hands are once again pinned above her head. I tease her lips with the thought of a kiss. My fingers brush the skin down the center of her body until I reach her waistline then start to trace the crease of her pants up her inner thigh. As my fingers reach the center of all creases its wet and she lets out a light moan. As my hand rubs the crease I kiss down her neck to her chest. The kisses get lighter forcing her chest to rise to my lips. As I make my way down her stomach I begin to peel her jeans from her shaped legs all while her back rises begging for me to go further. I kiss along the outline of her tan line, teasing the temptation. Pulling down her pink laced panties, I follow the center bow to meet a taste of a syndical temptation. The taste of lust pierces my lips and I begin to crave it. Her hands now pinned on her sides of no freedom to this control she no longer has. Her body begs for me to continue, it pleads for this ecstasy. Her hands clinch the sheets below as her breathing becomes heavier, her back arches, body on hands and knees begging for more. With just my mouth I make love to her. Her muscles tighten as she flirts with nirvana until her tongue unties and a moan can be comprehended. She speaks softly but demanding as she asks me to make love to her.
By Blake Mercure8 years ago in Filthy
Arousal Lake
It was the warmest day of summer. The twentieth of June. They always casually just ended up there. Years later, nothing has really changed. His eyes never left her. Never missed an inch of her milky skin. He took in every curve of her body, her breathtaking smile, her captivating eyes, they penetrated and heated everything it laid eyes on. And once they laid eyes on him, his blood boiled, his skin burned, and he got rock hard. But this time he'd have her. Fully have her. No more wet dreams. He'd have her underneath him, writhing, screaming out his name as he pushed her over the edge over and over again.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
Power Play
“I really need to dust in here,” she thought as she kept her face shoved up against the wall as he had instructed her to. He was doing all the right things; biting her neck, pinching her nipples in the spectacularly soft and then sharp way he does, teasing her cunt over her panties in a way that usually drives her insane. However, for some reason, it just was not doing what she needed it to. She needed to feel possessed; she needed her full attention to be on what he was doing to her body and everything she wanted to do to his when he unpinned her arms and gave her the chance. But all she could think about was dusting her kitchen; her body was responding the way it was supposed to but her mind couldn’t think about anything except if she had remembered to get new Swiffer pads.
By Leah Savage8 years ago in Filthy
