As someone who is in a long-term relationship, I'm always looking for new ways to spice up my sex life with my partner. Over the years, we've tried it all—role playing, dirty talk, new positions, you name it — but my new favorite turn on is reading sex scenes from books. When I was younger, I tried watching erotic movies with a college boyfriend, but the acting was so bad and the quality of the movie was so low, I found myself laughing out loud and critiquing the film instead of being the aroused. Watching it with my then partner made me feel awkward and strangely detached, and I knew there had to be a better way to indulge in sexual fantasies. When I realized how much of a turn on reading sex scenes in books was solo, I knew it was something I needed to try with my boyfriend, and not just because we're both book nerds, but because it was that titillating.
I have legitimately read better porn by fourteen year old girls on fanfiction dot net. My Secret Garden Amazon. Find the Kama Sutra here. A thick, musky scent rises, Read about sex sexual stew. I pulled up my skirt. He unfastens her stockings and slowly rolls them off. That strange feeling: gratitude wbout hunger.
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With each back stroke I see your Read about sex glistening in the sun off the shaft Read about sex my cock. We washed each other as we fondled one another's body and kissed. From mentohaver and Tit flicks Bibi My hand slides inside of the hem of your panties and I feel the soft dew forming. Your moans fill my ears and I know you are close. Greetings, salutations and felicitations fellow fellatio fans permit me to bid you a hale and hearty welcome to the final instalment of The Cock Sucking Chronicles! Party Chat. They have been a great ten years. Mike and husband, and I were getting pretty sweaty We both closed our ssx and succumbed to pure pleasure.
Obviously, there are a lot of ways to get better at sex—although nothing replaces communicating honestly with your partner—but one way to learn without having to sit through a conversation with anyone is to do some good old fashioned research.
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Jennifer Weiner is the author of nine best-selling books. They dated in college. They walked in silence through the parking lot. When they got to his car, he hugged her, holding her tightly against him, an embrace still on the right side of propriety, one that could still be considered friendly, but only just.
When they broke apart, her face was flushed, her eyes shining. Instead of answering, Rachel reached for him, putting her small, warm hand on the back of his neck, lifting her lips to his. Without a word, she climbed into the passenger seat, smiling at him, saying, "Yes. As soon as his front door was shut they started kissing again.
Her tongue fluttered against his, and his hands were deep in the softness of her hair, and it was like time unspooled, carrying them right back to when they were teenagers.
He pulled her against him, thinking that he'd never get her close enough, that if he could fold her inside of him, like a mother tucking a baby into her coat, he'd do it. He'd keep her warm, he'd keep her safe, he'd keep her with him, always. She nibbled at his chin, his ear, touching his face with her fingertips, sighing, whispering, "You feel so good.
Andy knew what she was asking, and it wasn't how long it had been since he'd seen her. He thought back to his last romance, if you could even call it that, ten minutes of undignified fumbling in the bathroom of a bar downtown. The next week, when they'd met for drinks, Andy realized that they had absolutely nothing to say to each other and that, when he didn't have four beers inside him, she looked like an eel, with a narrow body and a big, horsey mouth.
Not many of the runners had serious girlfriends. Andy remembered the time he'd spent with a television reporter who'd been covering the Olympic trials in Atlanta. She'd worn a girdle and had gotten annoyed when he'd laughed.
After they'd finished, he'd been starving, but all she had in the refrigerator of her chrome-and-stainless-steel loft was seltzer and a jar of pickles. Not Rachel, he realized, now that he had Rachel in his arms again, her lush curves and her soft skin, her beautiful hair, her beautiful scar. That was the problem with the reporter. None of them were Rachel. He felt her slip down the bed. She unfastened his pants, eased his briefs over his hips, and brushed the length of his cock with her palm before taking him in her mouth.
He sighed, eyes shut, thinking about how unbelievably good it felt, when Rachel gave a throaty moan, then rolled her mouth from base to tip and whispered, "Look at me. He looked and saw that she had her eyes open, locked on his, as she opened her mouth, hollowed her cheeks, and slid all the way down. Rachel's expression went from ardor to confusion as she felt him start to soften. He slid his hands between her legs, positioning fingers and thumb the way she'd taught him.
Except that wasn't right. She hadn't taught him. They'd figured it out together, how to make her come. He nuzzled against her, his lips on her neck, nibbling and kissing his way up to her earlobe, where she'd always been ticklish.
Oh, oh, oh," she sighed, as he worked his fingers against the slick seam. Andy watched her squeeze her eyes shut as she clamped her thighs against his wrist and snapped her hips up, once, twice, three times before she froze, all the muscles in her thighs and belly and bottom tense and quivering, and he felt her contract against his fingers. Before she could recover, he'd rolled her onto her back and slipped inside her.
After the first thrust he had to hold still, knowing that if he kept moving, if he gave himself up to the exquisite tightness, the heat, he would explode.
He reached down and stroked her cheek, then her hair. Do you have a condom? Andy opened his nightstand drawer and ripped open a Trojan. Rachel watched, frowning. He kissed her, pleased that she was jealous, thinking that he'd tell her anything she wanted to hear, and, finally, he slipped inside her again.
She gasped and shut her eyes, and then neither of them spoke. She had one hand on his shoulder, the other slowly stroking his back, from the nape of his neck to the base of his spine. He plunged inside her, deep into that maddening clutch, that heat. Rachel moaned, her hands locked onto his shoulders, her breath against his face, her voice in his ear, urging him on.
If there was going to be awkwardness, it would come when they'd finished; when they looked down and saw that he was still wearing his socks and she still had her panties hooked around one ankle. There would be the condom to dispose of, the strangeness of a woman in his bed for the first time in months, and Rachel would surely have something to say about his decorating skills, how his bedroom was as austere and empty as a cheap hotel room, with no bookshelves, no dining-room table, since college on the walls.
But as soon as they were done, Rachel rolled into his arms, curling herself against his chest, and said, "I missed you! With her hands balled into fists, she punched lightly at his chest, like it was his fault they'd been apart. He'd been smiling for so long he was sure that his face would ache in the morning. Follow Jennifer on Twitter. Type keyword s to search. Today's Top Stories. Hannah B. Just Reacted to Tyler C.
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Latest Forum Posts:. I looked at who it was. Not lesbian but bisexual Lesbian Sex Masturbation Hardcore. After the show was finished, we made our way to one of Risky But Hot "Had sex with my boyfriend in his room with the door open I opened the car door for her and she caught me glancing as her dress rode up a long expanse of tan thigh. Take care.
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Read an Intense Sex Scene From the New Jennifer Weiner Book "Who Do You Love"
Skip navigation! Story from Sex. Instead, there remains a bit of a misconception that all of modern erotica is somehow similar to Fifty Shades , with female submissives being the name of the game.
Writing erotica has irrevocably changed my life , and has given me new perspectives on my own sexuality as well as those of my fellow human beings. The past decade has seen a boom in women turning to the page to detail sexy stories that would very likely make even Christian Grey blush. These authors have brought forth the heart of what makes sex such a delight by capturing the lusty, down-and- dirty moments right alongside the emotional nuances that make these stories worth reading — and re-reading.
And if you have suggestions for authors our readers should know about, please leave a comment sharing your favorites! From ghosting to breadcrumbing to benching, sometimes it feels like we need an entire dictionary of words describing annoying dating behaviors. Well, someo.
There are many reasons we go on vacations — to visit family, celebrate holidays, and de-stress from work. A twinge on your vulva. No, not a twinge — an itch. A drilldo i. However, that was before we came. So, you have a three-day weekend. Why not put those extra 24 hours of free time to good use?