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Literotica: 5 websites to quench your online erotica thirst
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© 2022 PinkNews ⦁ All Rights Reserved
Websites like Literotica to get you hot and bothered. (Pexels)
Literotica, and other sites like it, will fill your evenings with erotic passion.
Imagine this: You’re at home and in the mood for some sexual mischief with erotica.
Except you’re alone under the covers and you don’t quite know how to satisfy those urges.
You’ve tried a couple of sites already, but it’s just not doing it for you this time. Sure, the internet has trillions of options when it comes to sexual fantasies, but it’s easy to get lost in the mix.
Without realising, you end up scrolling through the pages of Google for hours but, much like Bono, you still can’t find what you’re looking for.
Let’s consider something new, something exciting, something that will bring us that oh-so-personal release.
Videos are fun, but you’ve been there done that and it might be time to switch things up. Why not try to titillate your mind with some words instead of images? Rather than seeing the hairy butts of ageing actors, why not imagine your own, fictitious, perfect bottom?
Well, consider this our gift to you: A shortcut to the wonderful and inventive world of online erotica, where imagination is your only restrain (unless you’re into bondage, of course). This selection of erotica sites will hopefully save you some precious minutes next time you’re bored of Pornhub, YouPorn or GayForIt.
It is the place for free erotic fiction, and there are many websites that you can go to.
Needless to say these steamy reads are for 18+ only. Underaged readers need not apply.
When it comes to online erotica, Literotica is a titan of the genre – the clue is literally in the name. It leads the field like a Russian dominatrix, offering thousands of erotic stories with hundreds of tags that explore every sexual fantasy.
From vanilla to hardcore BDSM to everything in-between, we guarantee you’ll find something to float your boat to completion. It even has audiobooks for those who’d rather lie back and relax.
One of the most popular genre tags of this site is actually literotica cheating in which there’s an erotic story about cheating partners. Some people have some naught fantasies, it seems. No judgements here.
Literotica lesbian and Literotica gay erotica are also very popular on the site. There are many Literotica tags to pick from.
Of course, if you want some fiction erotica that caters to the LGBT+ community, PinkNews has you covered too, pals. Just head over to Nifty for some hot gay, lesbian, bi and plus action . With 23,000-plus stories, we guarantee it’ll leave your little gay heart satisfied. You won’t be disappointed with Nifty .
Bright Desire also features a wide range of free sex stories open to everyone, with a focus on what often missing in porn : the fun of it all. Not only is Bright Desire sex-positive, but it also offers videos and erotic stories that are all about passion, intimacy and straight up pleasure.
Much like Literotica, Lush Stories is a leader of the genre. Ghost sex? Check. Sex through portals? Check. Watersports sex? Check and check. Sexy ghosts playing water polo?
Probably. With 51,018 stories and counting, plus some 198,898 blog posts and 3,041,349 forum posts, we’d be surprised if you don’t find something that toasts your buns on there. Lush Stories works as a social network, too, giving you the chance to connect with other readers and maybe write your own stories.
Celebs you didn’t know have an LGBT sibling
Slightly differing from Literotica, this next website Sssh is operated by women for women—and we’re not complaining. It counts thousands of erotic stories, as well as sexy sex education articles so that you know the best way to do you.
Looking for something a little bit more refined? Erotic Review actually has editors that make sure you only read the best erotic stories out there. No typos or poor grammar here. It’ll satisfy your inner nitpicker and the most high-brow of your fantasies.
Have fun reading the erotic literature, my darlings. Happy Reading!
Josh Milton
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July 9, 2022
Josh Milton
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July 9, 2022
Josh Milton
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July 9, 2022
Amelia Hansford
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July 9, 2022
Maggie Baska
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May 19, 2022
Maggie Baska
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March 25, 2022
Josh Milton
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March 16, 2022
Maggie Baska
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March 6, 2022
Original reporting and incisive analysis, direct from the Guardian every morning
© 2022 Guardian News & Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. (modern)
In September 2000 my daughter was nearly 13 and had just started secondary school. She had always got on well with other children and worked hard. But after a couple of months things began to change. She started wearing lots of make-up. The school was a stone's throw away, but friends began calling for her as early as 7.30am. Next my older daughter spotted her hanging about in the local park with some lads from school who introduced the girls they befriended to older boys and men. I was very alarmed. Then she started missing certain lessons, sometimes whole days.
When she started disappearing overnight, I trawled the streets looking for her. I had no control over her. Sometimes she would say she was going to have an early night, then she'd turn on the shower and climb out the bathroom window. Once when she disappeared, I went through the park looking for her and asked a teenage boy if he'd seen her. I was horrified when he said, "Yes, all the prostitutes hang out by the bowling green."
I confronted my daughter. "That's not true," she said. "Those boys are my boyfriends."
As far as she was concerned, she was doing what she wanted to do and I was hindering her. Money didn't seem to be changing hands, but the girls were getting drink and drugs and mobile phones. The men flattered them into believing they loved them as part of a process of grooming them to have sex with lots of different men, some in their 30s and 40s. People ask me why I use the word "grooming" rather than referring to them as paedophiles, but most of these men haven't been convicted.
I felt as if my daughter was sliding away from me and I'd never be able to get her back. Every minute of every day became a nightmare. I couldn't eat, sleep or function properly, and I could see no way back. Every time she disappeared, I thought I'd never see her alive again. If a girl is over 13, she has to be the complainant in a case of sexual assault. Because this was happening outside the house, there was nothing I could do. The worst thing, as a mother, was not being able to prevent my daughter from being abused.
At the end of 2001, a year after her first disappearance, I put her into care. She didn't want to go, but I could no longer cope. My lowest point was the first time I visited her. Seeing her and having to walk away was unbearable. Everything exploded while she was in care, and I had a breakdown.
My nephew killed himself unexpectedly during this time. My daughter and I attended the funeral, and were both extremely upset. Afterwards, I took my daughter firmly by the shoulders and said to her, "You'll never know how many times I thought I'd be going to your funeral."
Then I walked away. She seemed to turn some sort of corner that day, and so did I. She started to realise what she was doing to herself and I could see for the first time that she needed me. I think I had to feel as low as it was possible to feel before I found the strength to fight what was happening to her and other girls.
I started campaigning with Ann Cryer, the MP for Keighley, for a change in the law to make hearsay evidence admissible in grooming cases, a change we secured last year. I'm proud of what I achieved and my daughter is proud of me, too.
After two years in care, she came back to live with me, went back to college, got qualifications. At times she feels down about what happened to her, which she now recognises as abuse. Last year Channel 4 made a programme about the grooming issue in this area and, although some white men were involved, the BNP hijacked it as a race issue: Asians exploiting white girls. I was furious because this is not a race issue.
The men live locally and we see them from time to time. They call my daughter names, and me, too, if I'm with her. I say to them, "I'm not frightened of any of you." My daughter calls out, "I've moved on with my life and it's a shame you can't move on with yours." Our relationship is better than it has ever been. We talk to each other and if she goes out with friends, she leaves a note on the fridge telling me where she's gone and when she'll be back. It's fantastic to get those notes.
· Do you have a story to tell? Email: experience@theguardian.com
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College always promises experiences to remember but sometimes these memories aren’t quite what we were hoping for. Freshman year coupled with communal bathrooms is a recipe for gross surprises and our writers got to experience them in full:
Oh gosh, I have been here for five years now and my fair share of dorm stories could probably create a small book.
My freshman year in college though, by far, exceeds almost any other year of insane stories.
In my freshman dorm, it was a wing of girls on the bottom floor and a wing of boys on the top floor. We all shared a community bathroom with six showers and five or six toilets (hard to remember after all this time ha). There was never really any problem with showers or toilets being occupied when you wanted to use them. There was, however, problems with them being destroyed or unavailable to use because people are crazy.
On several occasions, many of the toilets would have crap smeared ALL over the toilet, floor, and stall. Which one, resulted in fines; two, was foul? Who would be willing to shove their hand in poop to do that?; and three, resulted in limited bathroom usage.
One time I was taking a shower, curtain drawn and I had my towel hanging outside the shower – all clear indications I was using the shower and in it. This girl, who thankfully I never interacted with again, just walked up to the curtain and pulled it openly said something to me that I didn’t understand, stood there for a minute and then walked away. She wasn’t in a towel so I don’t think she mistakenly thought it was empty, she was fully clothed.
Another time, my freshman year, I left the lobby to get something from my room and as soon as I walked into the wing I could hear someone having sex – LOUD. And I thought to myself well okay then, ya’ll are loud as hell but as I got closer to my room it got increasingly louder. It went quiet for a bit when I got to my room and I went in – no one there – and I grabbed my stuff and then realized I had to pee. I went into the bathroom, which is right across from my room and walked in on two people having sex on the COMMUNITY bathroom floor.
My freshman year of college I lived in suite-style dorms where I shared a room with one guy and a bathroom with another room of two people. This story is just one example of the shenanigans that went on in that dorm.
One day while I was doing homework, one of my suitemates barged into my room with a bunch of his buddies. They all had huge grins on their faces like they had just gotten into something. I suspiciously looked at my suitemate and then I saw that he was holding a very large dildo in his hand. This thing was a Caucasian monstrosity. It was very thicc and was complete with testicles, veins, and even a suction cup at its base. Before I can even ask “Why?” he tells me the dildo’s whole backstory.
Apparently, the room below us had a string hanging from its drop ceiling at the start of the year. When those people pulled the string, they found a note attached that said: “Check the other room to find Richard”. The people went over to the conjoined room, lifted one of the ceiling tiles, and out plopped Richard.
My suitemate somehow knew those people and had just stolen Richard from their room. Richard really became our mascot for the year. We’d do things, like stick him to pretty much any surface in the dorm using his suction cup or put him under the pillow of whomever, was expecting a lady-friend over that night. At Christmas time I actually used sparkly pipe cleaners to make tinsel and a star to turn him into our Christmas tree. It was an interesting time, to say the least. Richard is still the centerpiece of my old suitemate’s apartment today.
Coming to college, I knew that I would experience all sorts of weird things. Though, I never expected that I would be subjected to the stereotypical the “I caught my roommate masturbating” occurrence.
My weekly schedule was always pinned to my desk, allowing my roommate to know where I’d be and when I would not be in the dorm. Except for one day, I got out of class early and returned to my dorm. I unlocked the door in a loud manner to announce I was coming in, but the headphones must have been too loud. I proceeded to enter, only to find him on his laptop, pants to his knees and tissue at the ready. I threw my belongings down, trying to leave as soon as possible, but he insisted on having a conversation with me while blowing his nose with the tissue.
Everyone knows the worst part about being a freshman in college is the communal bathroom. At first, I thought this was just an exaggeration, it had been smooth sailing once you get past having zero privacy. That was until the fateful morning when I walked into the bathroom stall–my favorite bathroom stall–and saw a horror unfold. There was poop everywhere. It was on the back of the toilet, the toilet seat, the floor, the stall walls. Now, I thought this was a single occurrence; maybe someone just had a rough night. Nope! Every other Friday there was this murder in the stall. Fridays, coincidentally, when the janitorial staff would not be back on duty until two days later on Monday. Not only did I lose my favorite stall to the wreckage, but this person moved on to the shower stalls.
An entire side of showers would be off-limits thanks to this person’s -ahem- bowel movement on the floor. An entire floor of girls had to share two showers that weekend. This person then moved their games right to the middle of the bathroom where you could be brushing your teeth staring at someone’s digested breakfast. It was disgusting and an experience that truly bonded the floor of girls for life. Honestly, though, I hope whoever was the culprit is doing well and has curbed their appetite for public pooping.
When it comes to being a freshman in college, you will experience new things. For many people, this often comes with the fact that you have to use communal restrooms, as well as the fact most people have to share a room with a complete stranger. When I was coming to school, I was so excited to meet my roommate. I always pictured us as hanging out, and being pretty close. I found my roommate online, and it seemed like we had a lot in common but I soon found out that this wasn’t the case. We always seemed to be stepping on each other toes, and I realized that we had nothing in common.
Before we came to school, we planned our rooms together. She told me that she was really into decorating, and I was so excited to decorate our rooms together, but after about a week into school, I realized that I had the roommate from hell. She might have been the dirtiest person I have ever meet. She would always throw her clothes all over our room. She would invite all of her friends over and they would sit on my bed and my desk. After stepping on multiple acrylic nails that she ripped off and threw on our carpet, I thought I had experienced it all, unfortunately, it got worse. One day after a long day of classes, I came back to our room to eat some dinner. I went to go throw something in our garbage can to find a used (and full) condom just sitting there among one of my ramen noodle wrappers.
After about five minutes of gaging, and crying, I decided to have an uncomfortable talk with her. No
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