What Is The Purpose Of A Door Mat?

“You wear these little skirts… are you trying to seduce me?” His eyes dragged down my body. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about” Before I could finish, his hand slid up my thigh, fingers brushing beneath the edge of my skirt. My breath hitched. He shoved my panties aside and pressed two thick fingers inside me. “Ahh. . . Kelvin. .” My knees buckled against the sink as he started slow, then thrust rougher, stretching me with every push. “You like that, baby girl?” he whispered against my lips. “Yes… oh God, yes.” His mouth hovered over mine, stealing the sound of my moans before he spun me around to face the mirror. My own reflection stared back at me wide eyes, flushed cheeks while Kelvin loomed behind, his heat swallowing me whole. “Watch while I fuck you,” he growled, shoving down his zipper. The heavy length of him slammed into me in one rough stroke, knocking the air from my lungs. “F-fuck!” I cried out, gripping the sink for dear life. He yanked my hair back, forcing me to look at myself as he pounded into me. “Be my slut today.” Dripping Wet is a collection of straight-up filthy stories about raw, no-limits sex. Bodies crashing together in hard fucks. Holes stretched wide, throats used rough, sheets drenched in cum and sweat. Each one dives deep into pure hunger, cocks slamming in deep, pussies taking it hard, asses getting claimed with no mercy. All the taboo stuff you crave, laid out in brutal detail. No romance. No sweet talk. Just hard, wet, pounding sex that leaves you spent. This book isn't about love. It's about need and giving in until you're soaked.

I was just a married woman trying to survive my husband’s debts. But when I took the job as a maid for three powerful, controlling, dominant men. I walked into something far darker than dusty shelves and dishes in the sink. They don’t just want their floors spotless. No, they want me bound and bent over on their bed. They say I’m too pretty to be stuck with a loser and too sweet for plain sex and too soft to resist them. And they’ll stop at nothing until they ruin my marriage, break me open and make me theirs. Even if it means dragging me into a world where dominance is law, and obedience is survival.

Kat was use to moving but it never got any easier. She dreaded having to constantly start over. She had all but given up on a forever place to call home. One day when her husband comes home and hands her a set of keys and a deed. He informs her this move would be the last, she was over the moon. It wasn’t long after moving in that she found her dream of a forever home was going to quickly turn into her worst nightmare. What was watching from underneath the floorboard?

One night, as I was making my way to the bathroom around 3 a.m., I saw my dormmate, Yvonne, squatting in front of our door. She was rearranging all our shoes so that their tips were pointed inward. I thought it was funny, so I rearranged them to have their tips pointed outward. The next day, I found that all of them had been positioned inward again. This kept happening for a week, and I continued to scramble things up, hiding the shoes, even, or tying the shoelaces together. But they always ended up being repositioned neatly inward. I started observing my dormmate and found her mumbling to the shoes while squatting at the door. I ranted about it online, only to have my first reply send chills down my spine. [Do you also get the weird feeling that something paranormal is happening around you? You have to move out before it’s too late!]

For three years, I was the only one allowed inside my husband, Matthew Carter's, secret room on the top floor. Until that day—when I walked in and found his young assistant there. "Matthew asked me to get things ready for his dinner party," she said, all confidence and no shame. I smiled. It turned out this was what it felt like to have my privileges as his wife trampled on. Fine. If the rules of the game had changed, then I would show everyone who the real player was. One by one, I dismantled the Carter family's most prized projects. That was when Matthew finally panicked. He demanded, "Why? We're husband and wife!" "Exactly," I said, tossing the divorce papers onto his desk. "And that's why betrayal comes with a steeper price, doesn't it?"

During the award ceremony at our annual dinner, my boss, Hank Reid, suddenly announced an impromptu addition to the agenda. “Annual department competition! The department that ranked last has to come up and receive a little award of motivation!” The screen lit up. They scrolled through all the departments’ results. The sales department got first place, the operations department got second place, and the marketing department got third place. However, there was nothing from the administration department. That was because the administration department did not have KPIs. Hank smiled at us. “Let’s welcome our colleagues from the administration department to come up and receive their awards!” Two of my colleagues carried a whole basket of brooms onto the stage. Everyone was laughing. “You should sweep away your bad luck from last year. Let’s hope you won’t get last place again next year!” Hank personally passed the brooms to all of us. Cameras flashed as people took photos of us with their phones. The sales department was laughing the loudest. “Finally, the administration department has some recognition!”