Mommy Long Legs Vore

I laid there unmoving, my hands shivered, my legs twitched as if rooted to the floor, tears rolled down my cheeks as I came to a realization. There laying a few metres away from me laid dad, whose eyes were closed as he drowned in his pool of blood, a deep hole in his heart while he laid unwavering. "Dad...wake up dad, dad please wake up." I squealed and then shook dad severally, but he was long gone, there was no coming back for him anymore, I growl and cried in silence, everything happened too fast.

"Fuck," I snap, unzipping her jeans skirt and tearing the thing down her legs, throwing it over my shoulder. "You've driven me to the edge, little girl. It was hard enough having you wiggle that tight ass around in my lap without coming. Then I see other males looking at you?" I yank down her panties and discard them in the foot well. "For that, I'm going to pump so deep, you'll see stars." "Yes," she gasps, spreading her legs wider as I go down and take a long, sweet whiff of her pink pussy. "I'd like that very much, Daddy. Please me. Please, Daddy...fuck..." I take the first lick, my fingers digging into her laps as she moans out in pleasure. "Oh, fuck! Oh. Oh my God." One more lick and her pussy starts to quiver, her legs stiffening where I've rested them on my shoulders. "Damien." I close my lips lightly around her clit and apply careful suction, increasing the pressure until she's crying out. "What do you really want from me, little girl?" "Go faster, Daddy. Please me harder. Please me..." ------------- Warning: This book is intended for 18+ audiences. It is an erotic boxset, containing seventeen original erotic short stories. Steamy, fun, and fulfilling, just how ya'll like it.

She coveted everything about me. My possessions, my experiences, and even my men. So one night, my mother pushed me into an older man's bedroom. The next day, she asked with a smug smile, "Nina, how was your night with the older guy?" I rubbed my sore waist, recalling his broad shoulders, long legs, and trim waist from the night before. I smiled as I answered her. "That fiancé of mine is all yours now. Just remember—I’ll be your Aunt-in-law in the future.”

On April Fool’s Day, my CEO husband cut out my heart to save his childhood sweetheart's son. After the surgery, he tossed me into a cold rental apartment, where I died in agony. Three days after my death, my five-year-old daughter played in the room as usual. Walking by the sofa, she wrinkled her little nose and mumbled, "Mommy, there's a weird smell in here." She touched my face and murmured, "Mommy, are you pretending to be Snow White? Why are you so pale?" She shook my arm harder and raised her voice, "Mommy, it's my birthday today—get up and blow out the candles!" Confused, she picked up the phone and called her father. “Daddy, did I make Mommy mad? I lit the candles, but no matter how much I call her, she won’t wake up.” On the other end of the call, Patrick Hart’s voice was cold and impatient. “What could possibly be wrong with her? She’s just pretending to be asleep for sympathy. It’s Johnny’s birthday, I’m busy. Don’t bother me! Tell your melodramatic mother to stop playing her little tricks. I don't have time to humor her." My daughter removed the candle from her bun, pinched off a piece of the bun, and fed it to me. "Mommy, I made a secret wish… I really wish you could hold me again, just like before."

The aloof CEO and his childhood sweetheart bring the tragic novel's female lead to an orphanage to adopt a child. All the children pounce on the childhood sweetheart, saying, "Mommy, pick me! Pick me!" The viewers' comments come flooding in. "She can't birth her own child, and now even the orphans don't want her. The tragic female lead is truly pitiful, humiliated by both her husband and his childhood sweetheart!" "The childhood sweetheart keeps winning—spoiled by the CEO, and the orphans scramble to call her 'Mom.' The female lead is nothing but a piece of decor." "It's not tragic enough! Make her even more miserable! It's even better if she cries on the spot so that later, when the CEO recalls this scene, he'll have to work double time to win his wife back!" I glare at the comments, feeling so mad that my short legs push me forward, landing me right in front of the ignored female lead. I tug at her sleeve. "Missy, can you make stew?" The female lead freezes up. "I… I can." My eyes light up with joy. "That's it then! That's exactly what I love. I'll go with you!"

Promises? Billionaire CEO, Zaki Omidyar abhorred them. Especially one that may likely compel him to a soulless marriage with celebrity heiress, Amelia Rodriguez. But he was crazy in love with Freya Ortega--his childhood friend and a sexy columnist with a heart of gold and long legs, that drove him wild for her. Was he really going to give her up for Amelia? A woman who pushes him to the limit with her every word and absolute nonchalance? She's with Zaki, is a novel about a billionaire's love triangle that would keep you on your toes.

Alex, a CEO and university professor, struggles with his disabled legs, leading him to be harsh on himself and others. Claire, the daughter of a prostitute, feels low self-esteem and faces numerous challenges in her life with nothing to offer. They are afraid to approach each other, yet their hearts yearn to be together. 'I never chose to love her; my heart did, and I was powerless against it.' 'Three years, thirty years, three hundred years... as long as your heart still loves me, I will still be here waiting for you.'

"Sign the papers, Damien. Set us both free." For six years, Elara Blackwood endured a gilded cage—playing the perfect wife to a billionaire who married her out of duty, his heart forever claimed by another. Their daughter Lily was the only light in her lonely world. But that light was snuffed out by the cruelest betrayal. When their dying daughter needed him most, Damien was embracing his past love. Lily cried, "Mommy, does Daddy not love me?" Elara couldn’t bear to tell her: it wasn’t that Daddy didn’t love her—he just didn’t love Mommy, and by extension, couldn’t bring himself to care for her. After Lily’s death, Elara confronted him: "You chose her over our dying daughter—how could you?" Her decision to leave followed, but Damien dismissed her departure and accusations as a dramatic—even laughable—ploy for attention, refusing to believe their daughter could truly be gone. Yet when the truth dawns, everything shifts: Lily’s death, Elara’s broken smile, and her departure with their newborn. Drowned in regret, Damien finally confronts the love he’d long denied. The billionaire tycoon scoured the city, proclaiming her his one true love—all for a second chance.

The company had just taken off when a project my wife, Lenora Peterson, was in charge of ran into trouble. To ease her mind during her pregnancy, I went overseas in her stead, spending ten perilous years abroad before finally returning home, barely alive. Instead of the joyful reunion I had imagined, she greeted me with cold detachment and thinly veiled disgust. "Why are you back?" Lenora asked. "Today is Nathan’s housewarming party," she added. "Let’s head there first—we’ll talk later." We rode in silence the entire way. When we arrived, a ten-year-old girl came dashing over and clung to Lenora affectionately. “Mommy, why did you take so long? Daddy’s been waiting for you forever!” Daddy? My eyes burned with rage—until I saw my old friend Nathan Grant stepping out to greet us with a smile. "Lily, come to Daddy. Mommy’s tired—don’t bother her now." When I met Lenora’s eyes, the guilt I saw there told me everything I needed to know. I turned away and texted my assistant, Morgan Williamson, to begin acquiring the company that, by right, had always belonged to me. He soon reported back. "Mr. Brooke, the acquisition process will be completed in three days."

My husband, who was a drug enforcement police officer, personally got me into rehab. My son was cheering on the side, saying that he no longer had to see me under the influence for a long time. After I was discharged, I discovered my husband moved in with his lover and our son. I begged him to come back and told him that someone would kill me. He did not believe me. Instead, he said coldly, “If you die, you better end up in a trash can. Otherwise, I’d have to deal with your body.” My son cheered at the side. “Mommy is finally gone!” After a week, I was dismembered. My body parts were found in multiple trash cans. He was the police in charge of the case.