Dripping Blood When I Poop Novels & Stories

The first thing I did after rebirth was follow my husband, Franklin Wallace, to the island for his military deployment. In my previous life, as a spoiled rich heiress from a wealthy family, I looked down on Franklin, the commander my family had arranged for me to marry. We fought constantly, huge arguments every few days, small quarrels in between. After having children, I grew to resent our two kids simply because they carried Franklin's blood. Later, when Franklin was ordered to be stationed on the island, I was the first to stand up and object to going with him. Since I opposed it, Franklin did not force me. He took our two kids and his widowed sister-in-law, Elsie Faulkner, to the island instead. Meanwhile, my spoiled and rebellious self could not wait to throw myself into the arms of my first love, Reuben Sandoval, once Franklin left. However, it did not take long before I discovered Reuben was nothing but a gold-digging scumbag who only wanted my money and body. He gave me an STI and drained my family fortune completely. When Franklin returned from the island with our children, they no longer recognized me as their mother and affectionately called Elsie "Mommy" instead. He even told me he had fallen in love with Elsie during their time together on the island. Eventually, I ended up homeless on the streets and starved to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Franklin was about to leave for his island deployment.

The story revolves around Blythe who after participating in a competition falls in love with his room partner Andrew because of which she soon ends up proposing him which shocks Andrew but he takes some time in order to process her proposal but unfortunately ends up declining her proposal due to which she is broken but real shock comes on her way when she comes to know that there is no one with the name of Andrew in the competition which makes her set on a journey to find Andrew , so will she be able to find him ?, Will she be able to prove that he really exists ?, And many other questions will form crux of the story and will surely keep its readers at the edge of their seats as it is a never witness love story which is amalgamated with almost every kind of emotions a human have and most most importantly don't miss the climax as it is going to blow mind if it's readers for sure

Caroline Ann Turner is the new student at Harbinger high. After getting expelled from her previous school for punching and breaking a guy's nose, she is sent away by her parents to her uncle's house to attend high school with her cousin brother Tyler Martin who is not only a goody two shoes but also the top scorer and model student at Harbinger high. On her first day, Caroline happens to run into a huge trouble after colliding with the school's popular nerd and basketball captain, Asher Carter. Not only does Asher welcome Caroline to Harbinger high by rewarding her a one week detention but also keeps on troubling her. What will happen when Caroline decides to take her revenge on Asher by hacking his social media account? Will she be successful? Or, will strange things happen in her life that she never even imagined?

Our place was hit by an earthquake. I was crushed by a slab of stone, but my wife, leader of the rescue squad, abandoned me in favor of her true love. She said, "You're a soldier. You can live with a little injury. Felix can't. He's always been weak, and he needs me." I was saved, eventually, and I wanted to leave my wife. I agreed to the chip research that would station me in one of the National Science Foundation's bases deep in the mountains. My leader was elated about my agreeing to this research. He grasped my hand tightly. "Marvelous. With you in our team, Jonathan, this research won't fail! But… you'll be gone for six whole years. Are you sure your partner's fine with it?" I nodded. "She will be. I'm serving the nation here. She'll understand." The leader patted my shoulder. "Good to know. The clock is ticking, so you'll only have one month to say your goodbyes. That enough for you?" I smiled. "More than enough."

Three years ago, my husband’s brother took a bullet for him. So Gwen brought his brother's widow, Eliza, into our home. I was the Donna in name only. I had to step aside for Eliza in everything. Once, Eliza faked slitting her wrists. She said I drove her to it. Gwen grabbed my throat. Murder flashed in his eyes. "Get out. The Falcone family has no place for a venomous bitch like you." He gave her the family's art foundation to "make it up to her." It was supposed to be mine. This time, I said nothing. He was signing a stack of business contracts. I just slipped the divorce papers in with them. A few days later, he noticed I wasn't home. He searched all over Chicago. He couldn't find me. That's when he saw the divorce decree. He finally understood. I was gone. For good. That day, the untouchable king of the Chicago Outfit… shattered.

On the eve of our wedding, Mabel Jones' first love, Carter Hayes, has shredded my custom-ordered suit that's worth a million dollars. The waistband of my pants has torn open, causing the pants to fall off my body. As such, I endhttps://gn.activitycms.com/hwyc-admin/bookManager/book/edit?bookId=31001354896# up humiliating myself in front of the wedding guests. Carter is still holding a pair of scissors as he looks at me innocently. "I'm so sorry, Aiden. I must have ruined your pants because I used a little more force than needed. You won't blame me for what happened, right?" Mabel rushes over and snatches the scissors away from Carter. She tells him, "Why should Aiden blame you? You offered to cut the loose thread out of the kindness of your heart. If anything, he's to be blamed for tearing the pants from how fat he is!" As I continue to lift the pants, I just watch Mabel and Carter interact with each other in a lovey-dovey manner. Now that my suit is ruined, it's time for me to wake up from my fantasy.

Warning!⚠️⚠️🔞🔞I Mature Rating Trigger: Explicit sexual content Dripping Wet Desires {An erotic collection} is exactly what the title implies, a scorching collection of steamy, no-holds, barred erotica, cut to climax. Here, all your filthy fantasies come alive. No limits. No sugar-coating. Just raw, intense pleasure. From age-gap trysts to taboo affairs, step-sibling lust, cheating wives, and every forbidden desire you've ever imagined, this collection has it all. No drawn out build-up-just heat, more heat, and fire that consumes. Men who claim. Women who crave to be ruined. Thirst that can't be quenched. Desire that can't be tamed. Bodies slick, wet, and on fire. Orgasms that explode. Sinful, unapologetic, and utterly addictive. This is explicit erotica at its rawest. Enter at your own risk.

Restaurateur and self-exiled heir Lucien Lenault's first look at the breathtaking young chef trainee for his trendy Chicago restaurant is a shock. She’s Elise Martin, daughter of a wealthy French fashion designer. She’s also the holder of a secret that could explode his carefully laid plans. Notorious for her flagrant exhibitionism, and for flouting the respectable façade of her aristocratic background, the coquine’s wild streak shocked most people. Not Lucien. He was tempted by it. It was a deliriously punishable offense as far as Lucien was concerned. But taking on Elise is more than a game. She’s a catastrophe waiting to happen, an inferno that’s burned many a lover. Lucien isn’t most men, however, and he won’t allow her to manipulate him. In order to control the defiant beauty—in order to see her submit—he’s going to have to willingly walk in the flames…

In the underground casino, my ex-fiancé Don Dante Castellano threw the card in my face. His arm was around Sabrina—his first love—and his eyes were ice as they shoved me toward the table. "Your father owed mine a life. The thing in your belly isn't mine." He pressed the card flat against my cheek. "The daughter pays the father's debt. Tonight you're the living chip on that table." The paternity test was fake. The child was his. I knew. He didn't believe me. That night, with a gun pointed at my head, I took off all my clothes in front of everyone. Two years passed. Two years later, in Vegas, he saw me again. I was in a red silk dress with a gold chain around my neck, the other end of the chain held by a yellow-toothed gambler. "This bitch is cheap. Bark for me, and all these chips are yours." I picked up the chips, practiced. "Woof. Woof." Sabrina pressed her face into his chest, covering her nose. "Dante. This is disgusting. Let's go." He didn't go. The veins rose along his temple. He was staring at the bruises on my knees. Then he kicked the gambler across the room. He bent down and took hold of my chin. Hard. "Sienna. Money, and you'll do anything at all?" He was close enough that I could smell him. Soap. Two years, and still the same soap. I closed my eyes, opened them, pulled my mouth into a smile for him. "That's right, boss. Pay up and I'll cooperate with whatever position you want. Care to buy a round?"

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.