Desi Aunty Bf

My almost 50-year-old mother-in-law has recently gotten a new boyfriend. He's young, handsome, and has washboard abs. Just as I think she's finally hit the jackpot and found her true love, he climbs into my bed in the middle of the night…

Mmm, yeah … That was the sound I heard one night when my mom’s new boyfriend was fucking her senseless through the thin walls of our house. Just two months after my dad left, Marcus moved in — tall, ripped, and dripping with raw, cocky confidence. From the very first day, when I opened the door in my tight tank top and caught him staring hungrily at my full, heavy tits and pointy nipples, I knew he was trouble. But nothing prepared me for the nights. Night after night, their room becomes a den of pure filth. The bed slams against the wall like a drum. Wet, sloppy sounds fill the air as he pounds into her — skin slapping loudly, her desperate moans turning into broken screams of “Yes, Daddy! Harder… give me that big cock!” while he growls back, “You love taking this dick, don’t you, you dirty little slut?” I lie in my bed just down the hall, panties soaked, thighs clenched, hating how much it turns me on. I try to resist. I really do. But soon my hand is sliding down my stomach, fingers circling my swollen clit as I picture myself in her place. I imagine Marcus’s strong hands gripping my hips, his thick, throbbing cock stretching me wide open, fucking me deeper than my mom could ever handle. I ride my vibrator furiously to the rhythm of their fucking, biting my pillow so they won’t hear me cum… but I always do. How long before I stop just listening… and let my mother’s boyfriend want me instead?

“Make love to me.” I pleaded. I wasn’t thinking straight and I was only doing this to get back at Benjamin but the way Saint was currently looking at me did not help with my decision making. “Make love to you?” He repeated. He was probably baffled seeing as I was dating his nephew. “Yes.” I didn’t back down. Saint took a few steps closer to me, making me falter. Was he finally going to throw me out of his room for talking such nonsense? I held my breath as I waited for the inevitable rejection. “I don’t make love, mia cara. I fuck.” ~•~ When Adriana Jensen catches her boyfriend cheating on her with her best friend, her first idea is to get back at him by sleeping with his uncle, Saint, but when she is rejected by him, she sees it as a challenge and stops at nothing to make him break before their trip is over. Saint Rossi has no business lusting after his nephew’s girlfriend but he cannot help his obsession, especially after she boldly gives herself to him. He tries his best to stay away from her because she is too good to be brought into his darkness, but it seems like fate had other plans for the pair.

A story where a maid fantasizes about her boss. Comes to work but can’t focus and sees only him. Then she gives him a hint on what she wants with a note on his table .then the whole scenario just excalates

What else could Bella Kiretti possibly want? She had the perfect billionaire husband, the cars, houses,vacations and even the most beautiful children. Everything was given to her on a golden plate. But so everybody thought. With her husband always on business trios and her children now in College, Bella is left home alone most of the time. Everything was automatically running for her…wake up, eat, scroll through social media, walk the dog and sleep. Until there was a knock on the door; her twenty year old Nephew,Jack is in town and he wants a place to stay. “You have grown, and matured.” He was no longer the boy she carried when he was young, he was taller, bigger and his dick was just the perfect size.

Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it became an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. **** Her husband was a monster, but he'd saved her from her past and a life of torture. She loved him like every captive grew to love their captor. Everything went to hell, however, when she fought back and ran from home, stumbling into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now hellbent on killing her. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She really should have remembered that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her all the way to Italy. If she had, maybe she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.