fiction

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

Midnight Ride
He was the kind of man that exuded sex. From the soft and damp dirty blonde hair that I loved to tug while his tongue explored my mouth, to the firm and tender thighs that always quivered when my mouth replaced my hands.
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Filthy
Self-Esteem
I looked myself up and down in the mirror: The wrinkles on my stomach, the unkempt tuft of hair on my crotch. My breasts were small. My areolae were pale. My nipples were stiff from the cold.
By Erin Bennett8 years ago in Filthy
Zephyr The Vandal
ZEPHYR THE VANDAL Prelude to Paradise What would it take for you to understand the depth of emotion required to control another human being? Is there a threshold across which you will not tread? If so then you should probably stop here. My research spares no eye, cushions no ego, and fosters no will from either end of the spectrum of physical and psychological influence. Is there insubordination in your heart, defiance in your soul? If so then YOU should ALSO stop here. Shut these pages before returning this scarcely printed collection of truths paralleled by my own narrative of personal experiences. All others, especially those of you with a crippling love sickness coursing through your veins, please stay with me and learn the glorious multiverse of mind manipulation, sexual perfection, and unrivaled pleasure through absolute vulnerability to your beloved partner.
By Shadowstar Boxer8 years ago in Filthy
Invading Spaces
Despite all the trouble he goes through with most of his friends, Tim doesn’t regret a moment spending time with Amanda. They met during an open discussion in their statistics class. Amanda was really giving. She never fails to prove the fact that she possesses a knowledgeable mind and a sexually attractive figure, the latter being a constant distraction to Tim from recently.
By Sam Wijesinghe8 years ago in Filthy
Lolita Syndrome Part 2
After our dinner table encounter, Phil begins spending a lot of time at my house. He hasn’t touched me or come near me at all, but I can always feel his eyes on me, burning under my skin. His frequent visits don’t alarm my parents because they have all been friends for so long. Plus, Phil says that he’s just taking a break from work.
By T.C. Bosarge8 years ago in Filthy
Between Their Sheets (Part One)
Every good love story starts when the protagonist is least expecting it. It shows up in their life when they are struggling with something, a death, the loss of a job, a breakup. They'll say "I'm not looking to date right now," but we all know given the chance, and an attractive face, they will.
By Accacia Graves8 years ago in Filthy
Harry/Draco Fan Fiction
Harry was walking down the corridor to the Great Hall when he bumped into Draco Malfoy. “Watch it Potter!” Draco sneered. Harry just kept walking by, completely ignoring the platinum haired Slytherin. Agitated, Draco ran up behind Harry with his usual sneer, “What's with you, Potter? Got nothing to come back with?”
By Alyssa Reed8 years ago in Filthy
Diving: The Deepest Orgasm (Part Three)
Sherry sat the last box of her belongings next to the bed in her new room. It had taken some time to get moved into her place, and she was tired. It didn't matter how tired she got, though, because Charles was never far from her thoughts. Schedule conflicts and the business of everyday life had kept them from meeting again. Her desire had increased for him, rather than fading, in the weeks that had passed.
By LP Steinbeck8 years ago in Filthy
Tamyra
"Darlings, you've come overdressed," Cassia purrs, flinging a white cape over her shoulders as she glances from Ashby to me. "And under dressed. Attendance is by accordance to the strict dress code only. Follow me."
By Angelica Reece8 years ago in Filthy
Lover's Crest: Part Three
It was taking everything I had to keep myself from pinning Kris to the magnificent bed and possessing every curve and hidden place. I took my time making love to her mouth with mine, kissing her face, resting my own in her fragrant hair. My kisses extended down her left arm to her hand, and I placed her hand over my heart, which was beating hard, just for her.
By LP Steinbeck8 years ago in Filthy
Lover's Crest: Part Two
Tears. Smiles. Laughter. Kris couldn't keep from spilling her joy after I revealed that not only was she welcome to come be at Lover's Crest during the renovations, and have her own art room, but that the large room in which we stood was for us to share. She gazed longingly at the bed fit for royalty, at least the royalty of the Oregon coast.
By LP Steinbeck8 years ago in Filthy
Another Way of Looking at Flesh
She looks down at her book; the movement of the train is making the words jolt sideways in a hypnotic dance. She likes it, it stops her thinking and the book is just a prop anyhow. It’s the last train to her apartment, the latest she can take and she has chosen it especially. The carriage is empty, this is the hollowness she seeks, the roar of the train as it rushes down the tunnel, like blood through a vein, life, time, the future moving forward. This is the obliteration she needs in this moment. She looks down at her hands. One rests palm up between the pages, along the spine of the cheap paperback. The other, fingers curled, holds open the page. An hour ago these fingers were inside a man trying to stem an internal hemorrhage, a calculated gamble her other colleagues had refused. The gamble had failed. The patient had died before gaining consciousness.
By tobsha Learner8 years ago in Filthy