روايات وقصص ضمن Life Of The Wealthy

"You little tease, spreading your legs like that… Trying to seduce me?" Deep in the night, inside a bar's women's restroom, I deliberately exposed myself. Through the one-way glass, I parted my legs, revealing that hidden part of me. But then a man accidentally walked into the wrong restroom. Every bit of my wanton display fell right under his gaze. Shame washed over me, and I felt my cheeks burning. I wanted nothing more than to flee. But he blocked my way, and without a word, flipped up my skirt. I had nothing on underneath. "You like showing off, don't you? Show me more." With that, he exposed his own fierce arousal and pressed himself between my thighs.

"S-Stop it! You guys are far too big for me! I can't handle you at all!" In the dark slums, a few impoverished men have me lifted in mid-air. I can feel four pairs of rough, callused hands parting my slender legs, revealing my panties. "And here you are, pretending to be pure and innocent! Look at how wet you are right now! You must be yearning for our touch, right?" After that, the men rip off my damp panties before pinning me down…

"Mr. Kane, do you have any cucumbers at home? Can I have one?" The hurricane strikes, and my daughter's best friend, Lexie Cooper, is stuck in my home. She comes to ask me for a cucumber late at night with a flushed face. "I'm just a little hungry. I'd like to snack on some cucumber," she says. As I look at the pointy tips peeking from underneath her pajamas, a primal urge surges uncontrollably within me. I say deliberately and slowly, "I have something even better than a cucumber."

"Stop clamping around me so tightly. Just let me in…" Inside the bus, the man behind me flips my short skirt upward before thrusting heavily into me. When I turn around to look at him, I realize that it's Michael Wallace, an older man I've known for a long time. He has yet to realize that I'm his target at the moment. Just as I'm about to reveal my identity to Michael, I see him staring at my face unblinkingly. At the same time, his thrusts become heavier and more forceful.

"Stop… please stop… There are too many of you. You'll break me." On the bus back to the village, three rugged men from my hometown spread my legs apart and tore a hole right through the middle of my stockings. Steve Axwell, who lived opposite, said lecherously. "Kendall, I've watched you grow up. Let me check if you've started growing hair down there yet." Under the gaze of those big, strong men, I felt a mix of ache and itch. I couldn't stop myself from getting wet. "You're this soaked, and you've never been with a man? Don't worry—today, we're going to satisfy you real good."

My stepfather, Greg Pelton, takes me to his private cinema to watch an adult movie. Apparently, that's the coming-of-age gift he has prepared for me. As I watch the man and the woman tangling with each other in the movie, I feel itchy all over my body. I can't resist squeezing my damp thighs together while trying very hard to endure the jolts of electricity tingling my skin. Upon noticing my flushed cheeks, Greg stops between my legs and yanks off my panties immediately. "Darling, let me teach you how to blossom into a real woman. Surely you'll be obedient, right?"

My landlady, Irene Hogan, is a divorced woman who still oozes sex appeal for someone her age. Her daughter, Meredith Lowe, is extremely blessed when it comes to her feminine assets. We live under the same roof. One stormy night, as I lie in my bed, I take out the pair of pink panties belonging to Meredith so that I can have fun jerking off to it. To my shock, Meredith opens the door to my room immediately. She just stares at me while clad in a pair of thin pajamas. For a moment, I'm shocked beyond my wits, thinking that Meredith has caught me red-handed for stealing her panties. But she tells me, "Mr. Melton, the storm is really scary tonight. My mom's not home at the moment, so can I spend the night with you here?" As I stare at the tiny contours in her pajama pants, I realize that I don't need Meredith's panties at all. So, I flip open my covers. "Come sleep with me on my bed, Meredith."

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.

Albert Roosevelt was the crush I was never meant to have. Like an idiot, I believed loving someone meant giving them everything, even if they didn't care about you. So, I trailed after him like a desperate puppy, bending over backward to meet his every whim. When he couldn't afford tuition, I begged Dad to fund him, sending him to the best schools. When his worn-out clothes made him a laughingstock, I pitied him and showered him with designer labels. And what did he do? He used what I gave him to chase after a gold-digging campus belle. To keep up appearances, he blew through money like it grew on trees. He even spread rumors that he was the real heir to the Roosevelts. To him, I was just an ATM. "Your family's loaded. It's not like you'll miss a few hundred grand. If you're gonna be stingy, maybe you should stop following me around," he said when his wallet ran dry. And like a fool, I believed that if I kept paying, someday, he'd love me back. After graduation, I funded his startup. The second it took off, he married the campus belle. He had the nerve to claim he earned everything through nothing but hard work. So, I crashed his wedding, and he buried a knife in my chest. "Only when you're dead, Eve Roosevelt. Only then will my pathetic past stay buried." When I opened my eyes again, I was face-to-face with a scowling Albert. "You can't scrape together a few hundred thousand dollars? It's Bianca's birthday. Are you trying to humiliate me?" I looked around the room and rolled my eyes. "Sure, I'll pay. But first? Kneel. You look pretty enough. Consider it charity, peasant."

"Don't keep prodding me with your rod, Chase. It's itchy…" In a northeastern village, I am in bed with my wife and the rest of her family. My wife, Dakota Allen, and her younger sister, Yvette Allen, sleep on each of my sides. Yvette sleeps with her back to me, and her backside presses against the front of my body. Her body has just developed into maturity, so her round buttocks are firm and supple. They set ablaze the primal heat that stirs within me. Unbelievably, she seems to have started enjoying my prodding. Dakota is sleeping just behind me. I cannot hold it in much longer…