Female Erotic

On the way to my twin boys' parent-teacher conference, I'm informed that my sons, Ricky and Micky Stallone, have already been taken home by their parents. I'm immediately worried sick about their safety. However, when I look across the road, I suddenly catch sight of a very happy family of four—Ricky, Micky, my husband, Corbin Stallone, and his first love he could never forget, Ingrid Lacelle. Ricky and Micky both run into Ingrid's arms, cozying up to her and calling her "Mommy". Meanwhile, Corbin gently kisses Ingrid's forehead with a doting expression on his face. I join the crowd of envious onlookers, watching the beginning of the end of my marriage.

MATURED CONTENT WARNING ⚠️⚠️⚠️ PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU ARE NOT ABOVE 18+ EROTIC SCENES FROM FIRST CHAPTER!!! Ever being the centre of attraction for being beautiful, gorgeous and a hell-bent sexiest woman? That was how Bianca felt each time she played with her boy toys. Bianca Davies is a hot, stunning supermodel and a narcissistic prima donna who strongly regards men as nothing but pleasure tools and her bodyguards, her boy toys. Used to having men worship her and fall at her feet, she is beyond disappointed when she meets the man who apparently isn't swayed by her charm and unapologetically knocks her off her high horse – Liam, her new mysterious, drop-dead gorgeous bodyguard. Determined to make him yearn for her, Bianca does the unthinkable and for the first time in her life, the chaser becomes the chased. She soon finds herself losing in her own game to Liam who's got a mission of his own. What will happen when she is accused of murder and only one person can save her? Will Liam forgo his revenge and chose to help the woman he was slowly falling in love with? Find out in this erotic life of a superstar!

In this world, the line between what is taboo and what is desired is blurred, as you are taken on a journey through a steamy landscape of forbidden pleasure and carnal cravings. With each turn of the page, your senses will be awakened, and your deepest desires will be unleashed. In this collection of erotic shorts, you will be transported to a place where nothing is off-limits and where your wildest fantasies become a reality. From the seductive whispers of a stranger to the intimate touch of a lover, every encounter will leave you breathless and craving more. As you immerse yourself in this raunchy world, be prepared to experience every emotion, from lust and passion to heart-racing excitement and pure ecstasy. With each new experience, your own desires will be explored, as you are introduced to a diverse cast of characters, each with their own unique tale to tell. So, if you're ready to let your guard down and surrender to your most intimate desires, then fasten your seatbelt and get ready for the ride of your life. This collection of erotic shorts is guaranteed to take you on a journey unlike any other, where lust, sin, and sexual reign supreme. Just remember, this book is intended for mature readers only and contains graphic adult scenes, adult language, and situations that may not be suitable for young readers or sensitive minds. So, reader discretion is advised.

At the full moon party before our marking ceremony, my mate Lucas got wasted. I went to pick him up, just like we agreed. Only to walk in on him burying his face in his first love’s neck, marking her with his scent. "Don't ever leave me again, Willow. My wolf only wants you." His first love shot me a triumphant smirk and shoved him into my arms. "Your mate is here. You should go." But Lucas, hiding behind his drunkenness, just looked at me with disgust. "You're the only one for me, Willow! She's just some lowly half-blood Omega. She's just my ride home, don't worry about her." I swallowed my humiliation and took him home, only to find out he wasn't drunk at all. He claimed he only said those things to appease Willow, for the sake of her pack's power. I just turned away. So on the day we were supposed to be bound for life, I ran. If Lucas was still hung up on his first love, then I would grant him his wish and disappear. But I never expected that after I left, he would lose his mind, crying and begging for me to come back.

By year four of our marriage, Scott had picked up a college girl—Gigi. Bright, beautiful, full of life. She had him, a billionaire, eating street food and chasing after her favorite esports player. Scott called. "Not coming home. Watching Joel Arnoult's match." Beside him, Gigi scoffed. "That boring old woman—does she even know who Joel Arnoult is?" They had no clue. The second the call ended, Joel had me pinned in the back of a dimly lit car. His teeth grazed my neck—sharp, teasing, a little painful. "Leila, if I win, how are you gonna reward me?"

Herbert Fischer lets his precious childhood sweetheart dump scalding stew all over me as everyone watches. Worse, he tells me to apologize, all because I said one harsh sentence to her. Tears stream down my face as I ask him, "Is my life worth less than a hair on her head?" He snorts. "Stop overthinking. It's just hot stew—you won't die from a few burns."

In this world, there are more ways to deal with a problem than the problem itself. That applies just as well to cheating men. Rich men, especially, will go to absurd lengths just to have more women in their lives. There's no trick too low, no scheme too shameless. Take my boss, for example. He handed over his stunning mistress to me. Honestly, I suspected he couldn't perform in bed, because she came into my bedroom night after night.

Due to one phone call, Carl Lorde left me behind in a deserted area on the highway, even though I had been pregnant for four months. I walked to a rest area to ask for help, but in the end, I was unable to keep the baby. I broke down and called Carl, but he kept rejecting my calls. The next day, his childhood friend posted an intimate photo of them lying side by side in bed, with a caption. [With just one call, you’d come over to my side no matter what.] Everyone was waiting for me, Carl’s girlfriend, to make a joke of myself. However, I just wiped away my tears, liked the post, and commented, [Congratulations, you two are a match made in the trash dump. I hope you rot in hell together.]

My boyfriend has depression. To help cure him, I pass on the opportunity for a recital abroad. Instead, I accept commercial gigs so I can rake in the cash. After one performance, I see my boyfriend holding hands with a woman who looks like me in a private room. He wears a sharp suit and smiles so brightly that he doesn't even look ill. The people around him cheer and tease him. "You really are different with your true love back in the country. When are you two going to make things official?" "I heard you'd been dating another woman for seven years, though. Do you love her?" Charles Foster smiles indifferently. "I was just having some fun with her. Only an idiot like her would take me seriously." I sob with devastation while hiding behind a door. Suddenly, I feel like a fool for spending seven years with him. I call my mentor, who suggested that I take part in the international piano competition. "I will take part in the competition."

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.