Drenched Panties

An alarm wakes everyone up at 1:00 am. It turns out that a few college students have gone missing during their exploration in Wolffang Valley. My heart goes tense at the news. After all, my stepdaughter, Nancy Campton, had told me yesterday that she'd be exploring that place! Since Nancy has asthma, I specifically prepare medication that's meant to treat asthma in my medical kit just in case anything happens. After carrying my backpack, I begin urging my husband, Jack Campton, who's also the leader of the rescue team, to set off right away. But he keeps stopping me in my tracks. "What's the rush? Let's wait for Dakota to finish doing her makeup." Half an hour later, Dakota Sweeney, who has a face full of makeup and is wearing a pink rescue jacket, begins complaining in a high-pitched voice. "Why did you keep rushing me? Thanks to you, my eyeliner came out all crooked!" On the way to the valley, Dakota actually pulls out a pair of pink lace panties. After unscrewing the cap of a bottle of life-saving water, she starts washing it with said water. I can't endure her stupid antics anymore. "Have you gone nuts? This bottle of water could potentially save someone's life!" But Dakota replies in a matter-of-fact tone, "I'm a woman with principles! I must wash my underwear that I've changed out of on the same day!" Jack shoves me away at that moment. He then snatches the bottled water from me before passing it to Dakota. "Willow Armstrong, you're the crazy one here! Is it wrong for Dakota to take care of her hygiene?" As I stare at Jack, a cold smile slowly spreads across my face. It's not wrong for Dakota to take care of her hygiene. I just wonder if Jack is capable of facing the consequences behind Dakota's tendency to drag things out.

“Yes, I am Dom. Your dom.” Did he say that last part or I imagined it? Letting out a shaky breath, I slid away from his lap. The front of my panties, scraped against his lap slowly as I slid from him and his light grey eyes darkened. I had no idea my pussy was so drenched that it left a mark on his pants. Jesus! Who is this man and what has he done to me? Soon I was seated beside him, his thighs pressing close to mine as we both drank. Electricity kept shooting tingles up my legs and I felt light-headed. He was silent and I suddenly felt nervous like I needed to speak to this deliciously fair man that sat brooding. Clearing my throat, I tapped his leg—unconsciously on the spot my pussy left—and he looked up, smirking at me. My mouth went dry immediately. “Is there something you want?” he asked. “Uh…No, I mean yes. Is this normal for you?” His handsome features morphed into a frown, “Having a girl leave a wet spot on my pants or taking wine in a bar?” I just discovered that my poor, useless, and filthy father who died a month ago left me a luxurious Cabin in Bakersfield. HOW!? Wish I insisted on that question. I shouldn’t have taken the plunge and moved into that house, but I am a broke, poor virgin and will soon be homeless, so I did. It might as well be the worst or best decision I have ever made because, in 12 hours, my life changed. COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER ON THE BOOK COVER!!!! contact the author for it to be removed if there is an issue

Get those wet fingers ready as you dive into forbidden Fairytales (An Erotica Series) curated to get your panties wetter. WARNING! 18+ They will be whipping, spitting, taboo, foreplay, breath play, anal, blood play, Dom and sub.

“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.

When hot dominant billionaire alpha meets an omega in heat,her legs opened that her soaked panties were visible,her smell so sweet he could taste it,one night of hot passionate sex, Dominco Gustavo changes his mind about his no sleeping with omega rules, realizing no alpha in his right mind could resist an omega atleast not one as hot as Nora Payton.

In the cold night. The torrential rainwater drenched his body. Suddenly, she met a man who would turn her peaceful life into one full of fear. Ana didn't expect that the Mafia would love her. However, every time she was near the man, it was always Ana who got into big trouble.

Desire has a language of its own, and these tales speak it fluently. From stolen glances that ignite forbidden passion to nights drenched in longing and surrender, Yearning explores the ache, the heat, and the thrill of craving what you shouldn’t—but can’t resist. Every story pulses with intensity, teasing the senses and leaving you breathless, craving more than just words.

Slipping my hand in my panties, I groan, biting down on my lip as I find myself already wet. I hold back the moan, circling my clit, as I imagine it’s someone else’s hand. “What are you doing?” His voice is firm, but not loud. I dipped my fingers into my cream, and licked my fingers. “What a woman married to a sinner does.”

"Leave my office, Fremantle," he snapped me out of my dazed state and feeling my cheeks redden due to unshed tears, embarrassment and built up anger, I picked my dress and panties and then turned to go. "Wear the dress, Fremantle." "You can't be the only one to enjoy my nude body, Mr. Castile. I'm generous, so I think everyone should get a share." I said and then walked out of his office. He didn't stop me. But five steps later, I heard his voice over the house speaker. "All security exit the third floor immediately." ** Fremantle had never met anyone like him before. He was the direct opposite of her, the type of men her mother warned her about. But how could she stay away from a man who made her panties wet on the first day? She really should've listened to her mother.. Eron never imagined someone like her existed. He wanted her as his, but he also had a feud to take care of against her family. Which would dominate in the end? Love or Vendetta? R 18+

If the devil wears a suit... Has a permanent frown... Wet panties left and right.. Expect perfection from everyone... Well then, that's my boss. And today is not my day. It's never your day when you get called to his office. But an even worse day when he broodingly asks you to marry him. And apparently, no is not an answer he will take. So, does that mean I am now supposed to call my devil of a boss my pumpkin boo?