Se connecterWarning: This book is fucking disgusting. If the thought of getting your tight little holes stretched, used, and ruined makes you uncomfortable, close it right now and go read something vanilla. But if your pussy is already dripping and your thighs are squeezing together… keep reading, you filthy little slut. Throw away every safe, sweet romance you’ve ever touched. This collection doesn’t ask permission. It kicks the door down, grabs you by the hair, slams you face-down, and fucks you raw until you forget your own name. No slow burn. No gentle teasing. No fade-to-black bullshit. Every story starts fast, hits harder, and doesn’t stop until she’s spread wide open, stuffed full of thick cock, leaking load after load from every hole, and begging like a desperate whore for more. Stepdads and stepbrothers who double-team her while Mommy sleeps ten feet away, pumping her full of forbidden cum. Daddy’s closest friend blackmailing her with that slutty nude she accidentally sent, forcing her to cum on his fingers while Dad cheers at the TV inches away. Being gangbanged by drunk older men in the bar —every hole used, every load swallowed or pumped deep until cum runs down her thighs in thick rivers. Choking. Breeding. Gangbangs. Triple penetration. Degradation. Face-fucking. Raw, unprotected creampies that ruin you for any other man. If the thought of being held down and used without mercy while you cum so hard you see stars makes your cunt throb… You’re exactly where you belong. Turn the page, baby.. Your men are waiting. And they’re starving to wreck you...
Voir plusThe doorbell rang at exactly 7:58. Dad answered it with a booming laugh and the two of them did that stupid half-hug, back-slap thing they always did when ever they met. Ray looked exactly like he always did; tall, broad-shouldered, salt-and-pepper hair perfectly styled, dress shirt sleeves rolled up like he’d just left the office. His eyes found me immediately over Dad’s shoulder. “Hey there, sweetheart,” he said, voice warm and normal, like he hadn’t just seen me finger myself. But the corner of his mouth twitched. “Looking good tonight.” I mumbled something and fled to the couch. The three of us ended up crammed on the big sectional: Dad on my left, Ray on my right. Mom had taken the recliner across the room. Dad tossed a blanket over our laps because “the AC’s too cold,” and I wanted to die. Ray’s thigh pressed right against mine under the fleece. The game kicked off and cheers exploded from the TV. And then, my phone buzzed on top my lap. Ray, two inches away: *
The message popped up. *Holy fuck, sweetheart. That’s one hell of a picture to send your Uncle Ray.* My stomach flipped so hard I actually gagged. I sat bolt upright on my bed, phone shaking in my hands, staring at the blue ticks like they were a death sentence. Uncle Ray. The man who’d taught me how to ride a bike when I was seven. The one Dad called “brother.” The silver-fox lawyer who always brought me birthday cards with twenty-dollar bills tucked inside and told my parents I was “the best kid on the planet.” And now he had a high-res photo of me spreading my soaked pussy wide open for the camera. I typed *I’m so sorry that was an accident, please, delete it* so fast my thumbs blurred. Before I could hit send, three little dots appeared. Then his reply: *Accident? Sure looked intentional to me. Your legs wide open and fingers in that pretty little cunt. Your dad know his baby girl sends shit like this?* I was panicking now, worried he was going to tell Dad, and I c
*A New Collection I was sprawled across my bed in nothing but the thin silk robe I’d stolen from Mom’s closet, the fabric slipping off one shoulder as I read Tyler’s latest text for the third time. “Babe, I’m dying over here. Send me something filthy so I can stroke to it before I lose my mind.” My boyfriend had been stuck at a work conference all weekend, and the dirty back-and-forth we’d been having since lunch had me soaked. My parents were downstairs. Dad yelling at the game on TV, Mom laughing at whatever he was saying, but they never came upstairs without knocking. So I was safe. My heart was already hammering as I stood up and let the robe fall to the floor. I looked good tonight. Twenty years old, skin still flushed from the shower, my perky tits full and heavy, nipples tight from the cool air. I turned sideways in front of the full-length mirror on my closet door, arching my back so my ass popped, then spread my legs just enough to show how wet and shiny my shaved p
The hotel room door barely clicked shut before hands were all over me. Not gentle. Not careful. Hungry. Mike shoved me backward onto the nearest bed so hard my back bounced on the mattress. The lamp cast ugly yellow light across the room, but nobody cared about romance. My head was still spinning from the vodka and the walk from the car, but the ache between my legs was already building again — that desperate, angry need to be used until I couldn’t remember my own name. “Strip,” Derek growled, already yanking my tank top up and over my head. My bra followed a second later, ripped off with one rough tug that made my tits spill out. Tony grabbed my skirt and panties in one go, dragging them down my legs so fast I almost lost balance. I was naked in seconds, flushed and breathing hard. Carlos didn’t wait. He shoved my thighs apart with his massive hands and buried his face in my pussy like a starving man. I felt his beard tickling my thigh as his tongue licked all my early juices






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