All Chapters of Steamy Dreams : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Then he set his phone down on a table and connected the charger. He wanted to make sure he got the entire night. Then, he turned back to Nandini and slowly stripped.Nandini's eyes grew wide as she saw his dark, muscular, hairy body. He let her take him in for a moment, and her tear filled eyes stopped at his lust distended cock. His veins seemed to bulge like large cast iron pipes, and with his foreskin peeled back, his inflated cock head glistened and glowered at her."Please... no..." she whispered, but her tear stained eyes were resigned to her fate. Her mascara ran down her cheeks, red from both the alcohol, and the slaps. Her plastic breasts rose and fell, caged within her skimpy bra. Her gold nose ring, adorned with an expensive diamond, glinted in the bright light, as did her mangalsutra and her expensive necklace. That necklace alone was probably worth Shanti's entire annual income, to say nothing of the expensive waist chain around her toned belly, or the heavy anklets aroun

And Vinod felt his balls tighten, and Nandini felt his cock stiffen inside her, and she clenched her thighs, clasping his man flesh between her cuntal walls. He bit her shoulder gently, pressing his teeth into her soft flesh, and Nandini raised her head and bit her lower lip, letting the delicious sting wash over her. Wisps of her hair fell over her face as she ground herself back into her lovely rapist, taking him to the hilt, burying him into her innermost depths, loving the fact that this cruel man was making love to her like a real man, so unlike the way her husband would.And as their fucking grew louder and more urgent, she cried out for more. More, more, more, more. She was about to crest her tsunami of pleasure again and she dug her fingers tightly into the mattress as spasms of electricity shot from her clit, rubbing against the mattress with every shot, and from her cunt, quivering and expanding and contracting with every thrust, until the pleasure of the pain became unbeara

Jasmine stared at her reflection in the mirror, her stomach tightening with shame. The all-white uniform the captured women were forced to wear was nothing like the modest dresses of her old life. The cropped top clung tightly to her chest, and the princess neckline made it so that any form of bending would expose the tops of her bosoms. The skirt, though long, was thin, hugging her from behind, and sat low on her hips, revealing her navel. Every inch of the outfit seemed designed to humiliate. Around her, the other women dressed in silence, each avoiding the mirror, each lost in her own quiet despair. They all bathed and got changed in the common bathing area. They gained the small freedom of being able to do this themselves, but no one was comfortable with getting changed in front of all these other women. When the guards arrived, the women were lined up in alphabetical order. "As each one of your name's is called and you are told your temporary assignments, you will come to the

"The King has passed." The announcement threw the palace into chaos, unsettling even the captives. Though Prince Julian had now become the ruler, his succession was not yet formal. Unmarried and without a partner to stand beside him, his rule began under the shadow of solitude. Jasmine couldn't help but think of his grief. Having never known her own father and having lost her mother young, she understood what it meant to lose a parent. Without his father, Julian too was now orphaned--just like her. She considered going to him. He had once comforted her in her despair, and she felt indebted to his kindness. But their last encounter had left things strained--he had kissed her, and she had returned it before realizing the line she'd crossed. As she prepared for bed, still uncertain what to do, Isabelle burst into the common hall. "The Prince is asking for you," she said breathlessly. "He looks like he's about to jump." Jasmine froze, then immediately ran to his chambers, not b

My wife tells me I have anger issues. That's not it, though. It's my job. No, it's my boss. Always riding me. Calling me out on shit that's never my fault. Making me feel small because he knows I'm better than him.It's true. Had I not lost my shit at the last company retreat, I'd have the VP role, not him. So, here I am, stuck at my mid-senior level position working for that idiot Erickson because I laid into the COO for dropping me during the trust fall exercise. Can you blame me? Is it my fault our COO is a scrawny pip squeak with weak arms? He should've fucking caught me!I need to calm down.Maybe, my wife's right. The thing is, she won't let me touch her. Loretta claims I get too rough in the sack, taking out my anger on her with my cock. Apparently, a little name calling, spanking, and hair pulling is where she draws the line. Ugh. Fuck, I'm horny. And pissed. All the fucking time. Especially today.However, that anger quickly devolves into confusion when I step into my home af