Novel & Cerita Hotwife Encounters

The next few chapters contain graphic and potentially disturbing content. Please proceed with caution and take care of yourself while reading. Lots of love, Dove.

​Nerissa's POV ​Five years. It is remarkably precise how long it takes for a woman to die and be completely reborn. ​Five years after my disappearance, the fragile, compliant placeholder wife who bled on the deck of a sinking yacht no longer existed. I stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror of the presidential suite in the city's most exclusive hotel, adjusting the cuffs of a tailored, pearl-white blazer. The woman staring back at me was commanding, her posture straight, her eyes devoid of the desperate warmth that had once been my greatest weakness. I was Nerissa Colette Vane, acting CEO of Vane Holdings, and tonight, I was stepping back onto the battlefield.

It was amazing. The party continued well into the night, although the time between encounters expanded as everyone got tired. At some point, I bumped into the new woman with the white collar. She looked destroyed but happy. I hoped for her sake that Andre had indeed fucked her into submission. I saw another woman with very large full breasts that I had assumed were fake, expressing milk into the mouth of one of the men. I guess she was a new mom. I imagined her husband home with the baby while his wife was living out her slut life.

She didn't know what had happened in the lobby that had made Wanda kneel, but it definitely wasn't how the media were portraying it. Kelsey frowned as she scrolled and noticed that one particular platform seemed to be carrying everything on its head. Every new story was being released by them. She quickly clicked on the profile. They had just released another video. She opened it and let out a small laugh. "Seriously?" she muttered, chuckling as she read the write-up. IT TURNS OUT THAT RAMON HOLLOWAY DIDN'T SPARE HIS WIFE EITHER. THE VIDEO SHOWS HOW DISRESPECTFUL HE WAS TO HER. HE DRAGGED HER IN PUBLIC.

"If you've got nothing real to say, then hurry up and give the phone back to Ava! We're here to look at a hot woman, not some cheating scumbag like you!" I nodded. "I'll show you what an adulterous hot woman looks like once I'm done." I pulled out my own phone and scrolled through my WhatsApp contacts until I found one with a blank profile picture. I opened our chat history and turned Ava's phone's camera to the screen. The second the viewers saw the messages, the entire chat went crazy. "So, this is the 'yoga' Ava has been practicing all this time?"

My name is Christine Wheeler. I just got married yesterday, and my husband, Matthew Wheeler, already complained about my skills in bed, so he signed me up for the "Wife Training Camp." The guy running it was Peter Sutton. He was extremely well-endowed, the kind that couldn't fit in your mouth. Right after I joined the group chat, he posted the assignment for the day. Every member had to practice their hip movements. We had to make our ass jiggle like Jell‑O, and then film it and post the video in the chat.

Charis Jennings glared and snapped, "Percy is such a shameless idiot. He really thinks he's some kind of king who can pick through the seven of us as if we were prizes? I swear I'm going to let him have it." The other five sisters were just as furious, and the group stormed out together to wait for me outside the hall. I had barely stepped through the door when I ran straight into all seven sisters. They were all glaring at me as if they were ready to tear me apart. The first to speak was Kara, the woman I had married in my past life. "Percy, don't think that you're a bigshot just because we allowed you to choose from us. You're nothing special."

“We’ve been betrayed, lied to, discarded. And we’re not alone. There are thousands of women carrying the same silence. What if we gave them a place to speak? To work? To breathe again?” Trina nodded. “Then let’s build it.” They started small. One borrowed space. A few folding chairs. A list of women passed around through whispers, group chats, and quiet inbox messages that began with the same question. Is this real? Andrea named it The Hearth, a place of warmth, rebuilding, and quiet strength. Their first session was held on a rainy Saturday afternoon. Five women showed up. All different ages, different backgrounds, different stories. But they had one thing in common. Each of them had been b

All she wanted right now was to go home and file a complaint to the police. Please be safe Baby, she prayed. Mrs Romero had lost her family and now that God had given her a second chance, she wasn't going to let Adriana die a second time. Her phone chimed and she swiped on it to find out who was calling. It was the maid. "Hello." She answered. "Hello Madam, A couple is here to see you..." She wasn't expecting any visitor but she allowed the maid to continue. "...A Nathan Tocci and Ema Contreras."

I opened my eyes to see 31-year-old Lucas. He exited the bathroom, rubbing his nose and avoiding my eyes. The passion we once shared was nothing more than a ghost between us. He hadn't changed much from the man in my memories. The years as our pack's Beta had changed him, shaping him into a figure of formidable strength, his wildness growing with each passing year. Women adored him. And me? Seven years later, I was just a woman past her prime. I gave up my own path to support him. I turned down the Wolfen Kingdom's offer of service, choosing instead to stay behind—raising our child, tending to the elders, cleaning the house, cooking meals, mowing the lawn…