Homewrecker Porn Gifs

The day Ken Bowen and I finalized the divorce, I walked out wearing only the outfit I had worn on our wedding day. I let Ken keep the house, the cars, the money, and the kids. He looked genuinely surprised, then let out a mocking laugh. "Are you sure about this? You raised the girls yourself, and you're just giving them up? If you really don't want anything, then you won't need to pay child support either. That's fair, right?" I signed the papers without hesitation and said calmly, "Yeah. That's fair." Ken paused, then slowly signed his name. "If you regret this later, you…" I lifted a hand and cut him off. I didn't look back as I walked out. Ken used to say I married him for money and status, that I used our three daughters to tie him down. Whatever. The day he saw my dead body, he would finally understand.

My husband, Caleb Price, and I, Sienna Hart, have been married for many years. Our relationship is going strong, and our son, Tobey, is thoughtful and kind. I've always believed we would spend our whole lives together. What I don't expect is that Caleb would hurt me and Tobey three times because of the same woman. The first time, we agree to celebrate Tobey's birthday, but Caleb forgets his promise because he has to pick up his first love, Lila Monroe, from the airport. When I return home from a business trip, all I find is my heartbroken son. The second time, Caleb secretly takes our son and Lila to the amusement park. He doesn't know that Tobey is allergic to peanuts, and he ends up in the hospital. The third time, Caleb repeatedly promises to pick Tobey up from school alone, but when Caleb hears that Lila is ill, he tells Tobey to go home by himself. On the way home, Tobey is kidnapped. After he's rescued, he spends three days in the hospital in critical condition before pulling through. Each time, Caleb apologizes with utmost sincerity and swears that there won't be a next time. Maybe he's forgotten, but I once told him that I'd only forgive him three times. So, when he finishes apologizing and thinks life will return to the happy days it was before… It doesn't. Yes, I forgive him, but I'm also taking Tobey and leaving him—forever.

Three years ago, my father marries me off to Evan Blackwell, the CEO of Blackwell Group, for the family's interests. Everyone thinks I'm done for because Evan is known for being ruthless and cruel. Yet, he's nothing but gentle to me, and he never raises his voice at me. He even has my initials, SH, tattooed on his chest. Every year on our anniversary, fireworks bloom across the city right on the dot. They spell out my name and the loving words he dedicates to me. On our third anniversary, the fireworks suddenly replace my name, Selena Holloway, with Serena Harroway. Before I can ask about it, Evan immediately calls his subordinates and tears into them. "What's going on? How could you mess up my wife's name? Do you want to lose your jobs?" I hastily tell him it's fine and that the thought is what truly matters. In the end, he lets them off the hook. However, he pushes me until my legs are shaking and my voice is gone that night. When I wake from the night that leaves my whole body humming, he's already seated at his desk and buried in work. He asks me to grab a folder for him, yet I open the wrong drawer and stumble upon an old photo album. It contains intimate photos of him and a young woman who looks strikingly like me. There's a confession on the back of every single picture. "I miss you so much, Serena."

The Shermans are the richest family in town, and both of the Sherman daughters are about to get married on the same day. I, the older of the two sisters, am about to marry Andrew Hammond, a wealthy scion and the man I've loved for many years now. Meanwhile, my younger sister, Celine Sherman, is set to marry the heir of the Wright family. The upcoming wedding fills me with joy and anticipation, but suddenly, Andrew disappears for three whole days. When I go to confront him about it, I end up overhearing a conversation between him and his friends. "On the wedding day in three days, you guys must ensure that the wedding cars are switched, so that it's Celine's car that comes to the Sherman residence instead. "That illegitimate son of the Wright family is a cold, heartless man. I can't let Celine suffer by marrying him!" "Relax," one of his friends replies. "We've made all the arrangements with the drivers and everything. But what about Joanna?" Brimming with confidence, Andrew declares, "The Sherman family has the Wright family's business by the throat, and everyone knows that Joanna is mine. There's no way the Wright family would dare to do anything to her. "When the time comes, I'll send Celine off and bring Joanna back for the wedding ceremony. I'm sure the Wrights won't dare to say a single word." The initial shock leaves me on the verge of a breakdown, but eventually, it morphs into the stillness of despair. In the end, I decide to go along with the plan, letting Andrew and Celine get their happy ending. Thus, when Andrew proceeds with the next part of his plan and arrives to pick me up, all he's greeted with is the sight of my cold dead body.

Chuck's beloved ex, Ella, got divorced and showed up with her two-year-old daughter. Without asking me, he let Ella and her kid move into our home. Then Ella posted a photo of Chuck holding the child, captioned: [My husband cheated, so I filed for divorce, gave my baby a new dad, and found myself a new husband.] The comments were full of praise: [Real-life boss woman drama!] I had to laugh—so being a homewrecker is what counts as a strong woman now? Chuck didn't see a problem. He even told the child to call me "Momma." "Ella's husband cheated on her. She's raising a kid alone. As a woman, can't you have a little empathy? I'm just helping her out." Well, I had no empathy to give—not for the mistress, and definitely not for the scumbag.

Akira Sanders is an author...an romance author. Pen named Miss. OG, her writings are famous among the high school kids, but little do her fans know that she herself is a high school student and...a . Her biggest inspirations are porn videos and washroom gossips. Ethan Whitmore is the high school 'it' boy with God like looks and an ego as huge as Mt. Olympus. An arrogant but the biggest fan of Miss. OG's novellas. Oh! And did I mention that he's the chemistry teacher? So what happens when Ethan comes to know that his favourite author is actually a high school girl, moreover, his student? Join them in their journey through senior year as Ethan tries to teach our Superstar, a thing or two about chemical reactions...of a very different kind.

My movie star husband's girlfriend suspected I was the other woman. She confronted me in public, beat me until I lost my child, and even left my face scarred beyond recognition. "You shameless homewrecker! How dare you seduce someone else's man—and even get pregnant?" she screamed in rage. "I'll send you and that child of yours straight to hell today!" And as for my husband, he didn't even spare me a glance. All he cared to say was, "Why did you bother hitting her yourself? Did your hand hurt?" But when he finally discovered that the woman his girlfriend had scarred and caused to miscarry was me, he lost his mind.

Envy, bitterness, and agony, I suddenly felt as I learned about my wrongful decisions. The wife may be the betrayed one, but there is no worse painful feeling than being the mistress. Because you are the half-loved one, and you have no rights to be hurt nor have the right to demand. Falling in love with an attached man is dangerous. Falling in love with Ezekiel Lorenzo Montivano is catastrophic. I'm Amber Josephine Adelantar people call me a homewrecker, a destructive threat, a concubine, his number two, his mistress, and his kept woman. But can you blame me? Is it my fault for falling in love with the right man at the wrong time? "You aren't my mistress, Amber." "I am since you made me become one."

It was the thirtieth anniversary of my alma mater, and I had been invited back to give a speech. But as I stepped on stage, my husband's illegitimate son rushed toward me, brandishing a knife. His accusations rang through the hall: I was a homewrecker, the woman who had driven his mother to her death. He went even further, kidnapping my daughter and threatening her safety unless I publicly read a letter of confession. I was beaten to within an inch of my life, my body battered and bruised. I demanded my husband come forward and confront the truth. Instead, he turned on me. "I was forced to be with you in the first place!" my husband spat, venom dripping from every word. "You're the real mistress!"

My younger brother, Luke, committed suicide after being falsely accused of plagiarizing Layla's brother's music. My own life was a living hell. I was a respected music critic, but now I was the sister of "the plagiarist." My reputation was in tatters. My colleagues whispered behind my back, and my articles were dismissed as the ramblings of a biased, grieving relative. The one person who had always stood by me was my husband, Julian, a successful music producer. We had been together since college, and he was my rock, my refuge in the storm. I thought he would believe me. But, he didn't. But the real betrayal came the evening, just another day of being ridiculed online, I came home to find Julian on the phone. His voice was low and urgent, laced with a coldness I had never heard before. "The case is closed, Layla. It’s over," he said. "The evidence has been submitted. No one will ever know that it was your brother who plagiarized Luke's music."