Erotica Story の小説・ストーリー

I accidentally sent some intimate photos to my father-in-law and ended up getting entangled in a scandal. “Honey, who’s that man on top of you?” Faced with my husband’s accusatory questions, I looked away, unable to say a word…

After falling head over heels for Joe Smith for three years, I finally got the proposal I had been waiting for. However, on the day of our wedding, he did not show up until the wee hours of the morning. When I found him, Joe was drinking happily with a young girl in his arms. “I’m already tired of her clinginess. She’s a joke. Who else would want her?” Much later, he made me a wedding ring and proposed with my favorite jasmine flowers. But a muscular man opened the door instead. The man had two scratch marks on his neck and smirked at the disheveled Joe. “Isn’t it a bit too shameless of you to propose to a married woman?”

Clayton Amos finally agrees to marry me during my fifth year as the antagonist of a novel. On the day of my wedding, the chandelier in the middle of the hall suddenly snaps and falls. At the most critical moment, he shoves me aside and runs over to protect Gladys Dawson, the protagonist of the novel, and his first love. Clayton's arm is slashed as a result, and blood pours out of the wound, dyeing his pristine white suit red. Meanwhile, Gladys remains unharmed in his arms. I hold a hand against the bleeding wound on my neck and finally accept the fact that Clayton never loved me. This is when the system appears and asks me, "Hailey Paltrow, would you like to abort your mission now?" I nod in silent response. "Since he's going to end up losing all four of his limbs and ultimately wish for death, I'll let him have it."

In front of the orphanage gates, Rebecca Schwartz, the impoverished student I had been sponsoring, stood glaring at me with a face full of disdain. "If you don't let Freddie come along, I'm not going to your house either," she declared, her tone sharp and unyielding. In the past, blinded by love and hopelessly infatuated, I would have caved to her demands, humbling myself just to keep the peace. But things were different now—I had been reborn. Staring at this despicable pair, who had once caused my tragic demise, a tidal wave of fury surged within me. Yet, it settled into nothing more than a faint, icy smile on my lips. "Then stay here," I said, my voice cold and steady. "Rot in this place alongside your precious Freddie. After all, trash like you belong in the garbage heap."

I'm the daughter of Don Falcone. After I got back from studying abroad, my family threw a welcome-home banquet, conveniently setting me up to meet the fiancé my father had handpicked for me—Santino Moretti. My father praised the guy to the skies in his letters: he was the heir to the Moretti family, elegant, ruthless, drop-dead gorgeous, and holding half the city’s underground operations in the palm of his hand. I arrived at the Elysium Hotel right on the dot. Just as I was about to take a seat, a hand shoved me hard. A woman's shrill voice pierced my ear. "Livia, what's a Sicilian peasant like you doing here? This is the Imperial Suite. Do you think you even deserve to breathe the air in a place like this?" I recognized the woman. It was Bella, a bitch who had always had it out for me back in college. She was clearly trying to humiliate me. Instead of getting mad, I smirked. "Whether I deserve to be here or not—is that for you to decide?" Bella sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm Mr. Santino's personal assistant. Today, Mr. Santino is hosting the eldest daughter of the Falcone family here. This isn't an occasion for bottom-feeding trash like you." "Be smart and crawl back to your slum." I pulled out my phone and dialed my so-called fiancé. I wanted to ask him if it was a tradition in the Moretti family to let their dogs bark at the front door.

This is a compilation of gay erotica romance filled with taboos that will make you question your moral. Turn the page if you dare. Extract: “That’s it. Let Daddy hear you.” Three fingers pushed inside me. I rocked back, begging. He pulled out, rolled on a condom, slicked himself thick. “Look at me.” I did. “Tell me you want it.” “I want you inside me, Daddy. Fuck me. Please.”

I was the top repair specialist at a luxury goods store. Ninety percent of the shop's revenue came from my work alone. In three years, I turned a run-down little shop on the brink of closing into a nationwide chain. All because I clocked in two minutes late one morning, the newly appointed supervisor, Tom Menzie, locked the front doors and announced he was taking everyone on a company trip. I asked why no one bothered to tell me. Tom sneered, "Well, those who can do more are trusted with more. We're going on vacation. You stay and work overtime. If you can't handle it, then get the hell out!" I was so mad that I laughed. I called the owner directly. "I heard you're firing me."

My dormmate falls in the dorm and sends the rest of us the hospital bill. She wants us to compensate her. "I only fell because you guys left a puddle of water at the door. It's only right that you compensate me, don't you think? It's not much—you each just have to give me a thousand dollars to cover the checkup, medication, transport, the classes I missed, and the mental distress I suffered." I exchange looks with my two other dormmates. All three of us politely decline. That's when she goes berserk. She screeches threateningly, "Do you know who my father is? I'll make sure you guys can't graduate if you don't compensate me!"

After my daughter, Mia Powell, was declared brain-dead, my husband, Liam Powell, urged me to sign the organ donation consent form. I was drowning in grief and my mind was on the verge of collapse. That was when I accidentally discovered that her attending doctor, Blair Lincoln, was Liam’s old flame. They had lied about Mia’s brain death, just to trick me into signing the form and steal her heart to save Blair’s daughter, Sophia. I watched as Liam picked Sophia up from the hospital. The three of them smiled together, like a perfect, happy family. When I confronted them, they pushed me off a building, and I died from the fall. Given a second chance, I had returned to the day I was supposed to sign the organ donation form. As I stared at Mia lying in that hospital bed, I silently vowed. This time, that scumbag and that wretch would pay with their lives for what they did to Mia.

Trevor Farren cheated on me—with a hostess, no less. He bought her a villa, handbags, necklaces, and even whisked her away to the Maldives. Everything I had, she had too. In my fury, I resolved to retaliate. I found myself in the smoky halls of a nightclub, learning shameful, provocative moves from the women there. I would seduce him and make him fall for me all over again. I vowed to crush him in the end. I'd ruin him. Strip him of everything he held dear until he tasted the bitterness of despair, the way I had. Standing before the mirror, I traced my curves with a sly smile. "Trevor, do you like what you see?"