Jeepney Driver

⚠️WARNING ⚠️ FOR MATURE READERS ONLY 🔞 The stories in this collection are highly raw, explicit content. SIN SO SWEET, takes you on a fuckathon, scenes you can visualise, bringing you into a world of forbidden cravings, intense seduction, dirty talks, NO fades to black, don't expect gentle caresses. Lust, power, and risk work together to bring pleasure, In this collection, you'll find a dominant coach who breeds his student in a competition pool, publicly risking everything. To a warehouse ritual of a woman who offers herself to five Mafia kingpins, filled and dripped with their collective sins. A horny cop pullsover a driver to fuck. Seductive secretary banged on a conference table, balcony creampies. Taboo summer where a preacher's kid, and camp rebel defiles sacred space with heated desire. A college student making out with her father's friends. Truth or dare that turns into a Fuck fest. Masturbating to seduce a neighbor. Daring fuck with a massage therapist with husband next door. Crazy sister in-law who satisfied her sister's husband right in her presence. A celebrity who turns a devoted fan to her sex toy, Ship's captain is honoured to pleasure a group of hot girls on his deck. These stories don't hold back. Watch out for domination, oral sex, corporate affairs, multiple partners, bdsm, taboo sex, forbidden pleasure, outdoor sex, gangbang, threesome, cheating partner, age gaps, deep throating, Milf seduction and fantasies. If you are a fan of erotica that gets you horny, hold onto your sex toy because these stories will get you wet. Open this book But be warned. Once you start no stopping until every filthy page is devoured This book is rated 🔞

My wife's childhood friend, a gambling addict she had known since childhood, returned to Dryana. To help him pay off his debts, she stole and sold my medical patent. Before it happened, I confronted her. I tried to stop her. I even threatened to call the police. Amanda Carroll looked at me as if I had disappointed her beyond repair. "Enough, Cedric Lunsford. You're a grown man. Can you stop nitpicking over every little thing? "Don isn't like you. He's in trouble right now. You make that much money. What's wrong with giving him a little? I'm already your wife. Are you seriously going to tell me where my heart is allowed to be?" I gathered the evidence and headed to the police station. Halfway there, my brakes failed. The car slammed into the guardrail. Metal crumpled and glass shattered. I was pinned in the driver's seat, drenched in blood, forcing out my last breath as I called for help. Amanda's voice on the line was flat, almost bored. "Stop yelling. Don can't stand bloody scenes. Don't make him sick. Your insurance payout is enough for him to start over. Consider it the last duty you perform as a husband." At that moment, I understood. Even at the end, she chose his gambling debt. She chose murder and an insurance payout. The vehicle exploded. Nothing remained of me. Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day her "childhood sweetheart" returned. This time, I did not stop her from going to the airport. I picked up my phone and called my senior overseas. "I'll sell you the patent. And the position you mentioned, I'm in. See you in three days."

"Crawl to Daddy on your hands and knees, little whore. I want to see you beg for this dick before I split you open and breed that dripping cunt." * Daddy's Naughty Pet is a collection for readers who are tired of vanilla bullshit and want stories about people who fuck like their lives depend on it. Five chapters each of the raunchiest, most depraved scenarios that'll make you wet, hard, and wondering what's wrong with you for loving it. The stepmom who "accidentally" walks in on her stepson jerking off and decides to help. The personal assistant who schedules "meetings" that are really just fuck sessions on the conference table. The priest who breaks his vows with a parishioner in the confessional. The doctor who gives very hands-on examinations. The landlord who demands payment in pussy. The mechanic who test-drives more than cars. The massage therapist with wandering hands. The yoga instructor who teaches flexible positions for other reasons. The lifeguard who performs mouth-to-mouth that turns into face-fucking. The uber driver who takes a detour. Every character is controlled by their cravings. The married woman sneaking out to get railed by her ex because her husband's dick doesn't satisfy. The college girl who fucks her entire fraternity in one night. The businessman who keeps a submissive locked in his penthouse. These stories don't have plot—they have positions. No character development—just hole development. No emotional connection—just physical fucking that leaves them sore, sticky, and immediately ready for round two. Expect: Every depraved kink you can imagine and some you didn't know existed. This collection is shameless, filthy, degenerate smut with zero redeeming qualities. And that's exactly why you'll devour every word. Ready! Now flip that page like the good little girl you are.

Kylie never thought she would end up falling inlove with her bodyguard slash soon to be brother. Taga bantay at driver niya lang dapat ito, pero nahulog siya sa binata, sinong hindi maiinlove sa lalaki? He's perfect! Para sa kanya ay perpekto na ito. gwapo, mabait, masipag at higit sa lahat matalino! Hindi man ito mayaman ay ayos lang sa kanya. Ang problema nga lang sa binata ay lagi lang itong seryoso. Bibihira magsalita na kulang na lang ay mapanisan ng laway. Masaya siya ng malamang may nararamdaman din pala sa kanya ang binata. Dahil gusto nga ng magulang nila na ampunin ang naging lihim muna ang relasyon na meron sila. Kaso wala talagang sekretong hindi nabubunyag nalaman ng parents niya ang relasyon nila. Dahil doon nagdesisyon ang mga ito na ipadala sa ibang bansa ang binata at kuya niya para doon ipag-patuloy ang pag-aaral. Hindi niya iyon alam. basta pag gising nalang niya kinabukasan. Wala na ang lalaking mahal niya iniwan siya ng walang paalam. Years past nakalimutan na niya ang lahat. Naka-move on na siya at masaya na ulit. Pero mapag laro talaga ang tadhana kung kailan ayos na siya bigla namang bumalik ang binata at hindi na ito basta basta dahil nalaman niya na isa na itong bilyonaryo. At ang masaklap pa, makakasama niya ulit ito sa iisang bahay at trabaho. What will she do? How will she deal with the man who broke her heart then?

"Daisy, please don't run away from me like this," Nicolas pleaded from behind. His purple eyes were looking as always mysterious in the dim street light. Daisy stopped in front of her car and turned her head to see the person who was demanding her attention and asked in a cold and low tone, "Why will I run from someone I don't even know?" "Don't say that you don't even know the person with whom you were madly in love, without seeing me your days used to be incomplete." Daisy replied nonchalantly without even looking at the most handsome celebrity of the city, "Exactly. I was and I don't want to repeat my mistake." Then without waiting, Daisy opened the door of her car and immediately a six years old little boy jumped on her while shouting excitedly, "Mommmmyyy." "Mommy? You are married? Or it is just the son of Lucas?" Nicolas blurted out in a confused tone. A sharp pain of emptiness started to engulf him, seeing the little kid. Daisy didn't reply to the last question. Flashing a mocking smile, she got in the car and asked the driver to start the car. Her little son was playing on her lap. Daisy placed an affectionate kiss on his forehead and his purple eyes sparkled happily in the dim light of the car. __________________ Three teen students' lives messed up after a stormy night and broke their hearts into pieces. But those who are destined to be together, can't be separated either by society or by the people around them. They meet again after 7years in a different city in different circumstances but the feelings hiding in their hearts are the same. ________ What will happen when they will meet again? Will Nicolas and Daisy end up together this time or they will again be parted by Lucas?? Find it yourself.

When Adriano Morelli realized I hadn’t submitted a single household request in three days, he called me himself for the first time in months. “Serafina,” he said, his voice smooth and patient, “the clinic has been cleared. Your file is back on priority. See? When you stop making things difficult and learn how this family works, I make sure you’re taken care of.” He always sounded the gentlest when he was reminding me who held the power. What he didn’t know was that by the time his name lit up my screen, the divorce papers were already drafted. From the outside, I had everything a woman could want: a guarded penthouse, a driver on call, designer clothes, and the last name of one of the most feared men in the city. But almost none of it was mine. The cards were monitored. Cash had to be approved. Staff took Viviana Costa’s orders before they ever listened to me. Even the wardrobe budget, my schedule, and access to the family office all ran through her hands. Adriano called it convenience. Three days ago, I was rushed into a private clinic, blood soaking through my dress, while a doctor told me there was still a chance to save the baby if the emergency deposit was paid immediately. I called Adriano until my hands shook. Viviana stalled the transfer. First there was no direct authorization. Then the amount was too large. Then Adriano was in a meeting and could not be disturbed over something that might not be serious. By the time the money came through, it was too late. The baby was gone. I had stayed with Adriano for two reasons: I loved him, and I believed that when it truly mattered, he would choose me. I was wrong about both. Our child died first. My marriage died with it.

“Is trusting you a sin?” Hannah asked. “It wouldn't have been a sin if you were nothing but sand under my feet. You’ve always had it all—the grades, the charm, the spotlight. Teachers adored you. Boys wanted you. Even James, the only one I ever looked at like that, fell for you despite your boring look.” Her best friend’s laugh was dry. Cruel. Hannah’s heart squeezed, her breath catching in her throat. “You think you’ve won?” she said, voice shaking. “Because you slept with my husband and fed him lies?” “I don’t think, Hannah. I won.” “You didn’t win. You settled. You crawled into my leftovers and tried to wear my skin like it would turn you into something better—but it didn’t.” --- On her first wedding anniversary, Hannah Reyes was drugged—by her husband and her best friend. The betrayal shattered her world, and cost her the one thing she was holding onto: her unborn child. The next day, still lying in a hospital bed, her husband handed her divorce papers... then ordered her thrown out. Lost, bleeding, and alone, she was hit by a car. But fate wasn’t done with her yet. The driver? Matthew DeLacruz—her husband’s former friend, now bitter enemy, and a man he once scammed. And Matthew made her an offer she couldn’t ignore: "Be my vice president, and I’ll help you destroy him." What began as revenge turned into something else, something thrilling, empowering, and dangerously beautiful. And just when she thought she had nothing left to lose, Matthew made her a different offer: Marriage. Now Hannah must ask herself: Can she truly trust again? Or will this new beginning become just another ending?

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?

I spent two years drowning in guilt for an accident that wasn't my fault. Two years watching my husband transform into a monster who blamed me for the paralysis a drunk driver caused. Two years sacrificing pieces of myself for forgiveness I'd never earn. And then Adrian made one request that shattered what little dignity I had left. His birthday wish: Two weeks in Italy. His two best friends. My body. He wanted me to give them what he could no longer provide. I said yes because I didn't know how else to survive his threats, his manipulation, his systematic destruction of everything I used to be. What I didn't expect was how they'd look at me when I agreed—like I was cheap, disposable, exactly as worthless as I'd always believed. Matteo Greco touched me with hands that worshipped while his words cut deep, the Italian architect whose warmth turned ice-cold the moment I knocked on his door. Kian Ashford used me like I was nothing while his grey eyes promised I could be everything, the lawyer whose control shattered the same night mine did. They broke me completely. And broke their rules together with their hatred for eachother. Because Kian isn't just a lawyer—he's a Werewolf Alpha in a three-piece suit and a racer at night. Matteo isn't just an architect—he's a Lycan Alpha hiding behind Italian charm and motorcycle leather. And somehow this completely human woman triggered something in both of them that should be impossible. Mate bonds don't lie. But neither do the species that have been enemies for centuries. A dark paranormal romance that will leave you breathless, aching, and absolutely dripping. This is not a gentle love story...this is brutal, beautiful, and will wreck you in the best possible way.

I'm a mafia princess with crippling social anxiety. My fiancé, Rocco Falcone, is our family's consigliere. He’s the exact opposite of me—extroverted, effortlessly charming, a master at reading and bending people. He's supposed to be my protector. My only link to the outside world. Tonight was the charity gala for my late mother. I was hiding in the darkest corner, a mask covering my face. Rocco was supposed to give the speech. My speech. He never showed. [Emergency. Sorry. Skip the speech, I know you hate the attention. Driver will take you home after the auction. Don't wait up.] Then I saw Livia’s new post. It was a picture of Rocco, draping his suit jacket over her shoulders. He was looking down at her, his eyes full of a tenderness he never showed me. The caption was a gut punch: [No prom date, so my big bro saved the day! Couldn't have done it without him! ] The cold hit me. Bone deep. He ditched a memorial for my dead mother... to take his stepsister to a university dance? The guests began whispering and sneering that I, the famously awkward, socially crippled princess, couldn’t even force a word out. I stared at the whiskey I’d ordered for him. The ice in my glass was melting. Just like the hope in my heart. When I got back to our empty penthouse, my screen was lit up with missed calls and texts from Rocco. The last one came in thirty minutes ago: [Aurelia, trouble at Livia's prom. You know how she gets. Couldn't leave her. Your mother's gala means everything. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Next time will be perfect. Trust me.] I didn't reply. An engagement held together by "next time." Was a promise like that even worth keeping?