Alanah Pearce Sexy Novels & Stories

Wearing blood red heels, black lace, and a smile that could slice a throat. How did she get in ? Kayden made sure that no matter what she wasn’t to enter. His guards and warriors moved instantly “ Get her!” One of them yelled. “ Too late. ” With a flick of her hand, she tossed a folder into the air and photos exploded like feathers in a storm. Dozens of them. Photos of Alana. Stripping, Dancing , Bending beneath colored lights in nothing but lace and heels. Alana felt like the place seemed to start spinning, and then complete silence.

This was someone completely different. “Hey, hot stuff what are you doing here?” Alana questioned as she walked into the kitchen. Alana had on a pair of skin-tight shorts and a loose tank top. She was most likely going to train. “Hey, Sexy,” Calvin smirked back as he selfishly took in the sight of Alana’s tight round ass. Oh, how he wished Alana was his beloved. He would be able to make sweet love to her and enjoy that tight ass any time he wanted.

Alan had Rebecca, his fiancée Judith's slutty older sister, bent over the marble sink, her short black dress shoved up to bunch around her waist like a crumpled afterthought. Her lacy red panties were torn roughly to the side, exposing her shaved, glistening pussy lips that were already swollen and parted from arousal. Rebecca's legs were spread wide, her high heels scraping the tiled floor for purchase as Alan gripped her curvy hips with white-knuckled force, his fingers sinking deep into her soft, yielding flesh.

ES ~0~0~ In the wretched heat of a mid-December morning, Liziwe awoke, uneasy and unrested. Her back was humid with sweat, her hair plastered to her forehead in the sultry heaviness of the air, and the hem of her nightdress slid high against her thigh, the fabric mingling with the saline stickiness of her skin. Her eyes opened as slits, taking in the stillness of the room. Everything lay as it had the night before; each book indiscriminately cast across her desk just so, her apron thrown irritably over the creaking old chair. But despite it all, something was different. Something had been altered, perhaps in no visible fashion, but the very air had shifted; some scent lay wreathed in the sti

The watercolour used proved to be quite expensive. It didn't take long before we heard heavy footsteps headed our way. The big doors opened revealing a middle-aged woman, in a black mermaid dress, her blond hair styled so that no strand was falling out of place. She moved gracefully and took a sit in front of us, on a sophisticated sofa which I am guessing was reserved for her. She offered her hand for a handshake, greeting each and every one of us, a delicate smile still plastered on her face. "Welcome to Maran Pack. I am Alpha Clarissa Marana. How may I help you all?" She asked, her hands clasped together on her lap, her nails shining showcasing the intricate designs on it.

But now, with her movement, the shirt is twisted up around her waist, revealing her delectable ass that is barely covered by a scrap of black lace. The thick, round globes of her ass are smooth and sexy, not hidden by the panties that are barely wide enough to cover her hole. Heath wants nothing more than to walk over to her, flip her onto her back, rip that scrap of lace from her and bury himself so deeply inside of her that her eyes roll back in her head. A visual that has certain appendages on his body standing at attention. A fact that the tiny, damp towel barely secured around his hips is doing nothing to hide.

Grace is breathing heavily when she pushes the other girl's hands aside and pops the clasp herself. "You're my Grace, only mine, my only Pearl" Evelyn said between the kisses and pulled that little black panty off her body which was hardly covering her ass. Grace couldn't protest the desires and gave in. The tiny pieces of clothes were the costume of Grace, she was a hot and sexy pole dancer who was famous as 'Pearl'. The way she moved around the pole so skilfully, always made Evelyn feel wet and hot. Until this night, she never dared to come to Grace's room but tonight she was drunk and she wanted nothing but Grace.

Alanis's POV: I was already walking back toward the house when I heard her shift behind me. I turned and saw Penguin trying to curl into herself again. She had lowered herself back to the pavement like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to follow me. Her knees pulled in; her head bowed. The oversized shirt she wore slid off one shoulder, and I caught a glimpse of her skin. Is that bruises I see? I sighed, not because I cared about her — I did not. But because no one should look like that.

On my wedding anniversary, my three-year-old son gave me an alpaca as a gift. I turned right around and shipped it off to the circus, where I found it a strapping alpaca husband. All because I'd been reborn. In my last life, that alpaca was sweet and gentle with everyone—except me. Every single day, it spat on me. Determined not to disappoint my son, I tried everything to win it over, but nothing worked. My mind unraveled. I stopped sleeping. I started hearing things that weren't there, and every night I dreamed of that alpaca chasing me down to spit in my face. My husband called me vicious. My son called me petty. And the two of them only grew closer to that alpaca by the day. Worn dow

He shamelessly slipped his hand into my pants and pulled them down to my heels. His fingers teased my clit and explored my pussy. I kicked off one of my heels, freed one foot from my pants, and spread my thighs wide while the other foot supported my body. "You're already so wet, baby," he whispered as his hand propped one of my legs high on his waist. "Oh! Yes, Laird. I'm ready. I need you now." I hissed as Laird's fingers brought pleasure with deep fingering inside my pussy. I was even sure my pants had been wet since Alan had been teasing me relentlessly on set. Damn it! I begged Laird as if I were a hypersexual whore.