Novel & Cerita Post Mortem Novel

Wet Confessions Thirty Taboo Tales You’ll Never Forget Some secrets are whispered. Some are moaned. And some are written between trembling thighs. From steamy offices and dimly lit confessionals to forbidden bedrooms and midnight rendezvous, Wet Confessions is a raw, unapologetically sexy collection of 30 taboo short stories that explore the desires we hide behind closed doors. Every story is a sin dressed in silk. Every character is someone you shouldn’t want but do. And every ending leaves you aching for more. These are the fantasies you never say out loud. The confessions you’d only whisper in the dark. And the kind of love you’re not supposed to crave. Read if you dare. Want more when you're done.

One thousand stories. One thousand ways to get wet, aroused, and begging for more. This collection is pure sin on your screen. Good girls turned into cock-hungry sluts in the span of a single night. Risky fucks in movie seats, hotel mix-ups, locked bathrooms, family cabins. Virginities lost to the wrong man… or the right group of men. Sisters, best friends, fiancées, stepdaughters—all fucking, sharing, eating each other out, and taking load after load while pretending they hate how good it feels. Expect: Every hole used and filled. Creampies that drip for days. Public exposure, semi-public humiliation. Rough, jealous, competitive sex. Anal, DP, face-sitting, squirting, cum-play. That razor-thin line between “I shouldn’t” and “don’t stop” This isn’t a book you read. It’s a book that reads you because it knows what makes your clit throb and your cheeks burn. Open it if you dare. Close it when you can’t take any more (spoiler: you won’t be able to). Reader discretion: Extreme taboo, group scenarios, degradation, incest-adjacent themes, non-stop orgasms, lesbian, threesome, gangbang and every filthy thing you dare to imagine. NB: accepting requests for hot sexy stories that's your deepest fantasy. 1000 stories!!!

[The story about my son cutting ties with us is all an act. If I hadn’t done that, there’s no way my daughter would have willingly handed over the money!] During the long holiday weekend, I was killing time at my desk when I randomly clicked on a Reddit post. Maybe it was because I also had a younger brother who had cut ties with the family. The night he slammed the door and left, my parents seemed to age ten years overnight. From that day on, I became their only source of support. Every month, I send them five hundred dollars for living expenses. Even when I wasn’t feeling well, I forced myself to work. Meanwhile, the post kept updating. [I raised her for over ten years. What's wrong with spending some of her money? Her brother is still short of fifty thousand dollars for the down payment on his house. We need the money before the holiday ends.] I wanted to keep reading, but my manager called me into a meeting. That evening, while we were having dinner, Mom spoke up, her voice trembling slightly. “Your father and I need to discuss something with you, sweetheart…” My heart skipped a beat. For some reason, the last line from that post flashed through my mind. [I'll just tell her the business is in debt and that we need her money. She's always been a good child. She'll surely do what I ask.] “Mom… you and Dad aren’t in debt, are you?”

On the day I went to try on my wedding dress, Enzo had said he would come with me—but he never showed up. The train of the gown was too long. I stood alone in front of the mirror, bending over again and again to fix it more than a dozen times. The third time I stepped on the hem, my phone finally buzzed. 'Natalie just came back and isn't used to the weather here. I'll go pick her up. You try on the dress first.' The next second, a new post popped up on social media. Natalie had uploaded a photo. In it, Enzo was crouched in front of her, one hand wrapped around her slender ankle as he carefully fastened the strap of her high heels. The caption was only one line. 'He still couldn't bear to let me bend down.' When I tapped into the post, I saw that Enzo had already liked it. The bridal assistant sensed the shift in the air and tried to comfort me in a low voice. "Ms. Blackwood, Mr. Beck really cares about you. He was worried you might secretly diet and hurt your health, so he specifically told us not to alter the waistline any further." I smiled. He cared about me, yes. But his care had never stopped him from favoring someone else. I lowered my head and looked at the wedding dress on my body. Then it suddenly struck me. The thing that did not fit had never been the dress. It was this wedding.

After drunkenly ending up in bed with my best friend's older sister, Diana Conway, I become her secret boyfriend. By the eighth year of our underground relationship, my family gives me an ultimatum and arranges a marriage for me. I inform, "Diana, my family has given me a final deadline. I have to get married this year." Her movements pause for a bit. Then, she gently kisses my forehead. Just like always, she says, "Wait a little longer." But then, I come across a social media post from an intern named Steven Riley. The photo shows him and Diana holding their marriage certificate. The caption reads, "Mission accomplished—the female CEO is mine." I spend eight years chasing a woman who never settles down with me, yet he wins her over in just three months. Suppressing the bitterness in my heart, I leave the post a like. Then, I comment, "Congratulations. Wishing you a lifetime of happiness and lots of children." After that, I agree to the wedding date my family arranges. Suddenly, my phone rings. For the first time, panic creeps into Diana's voice. "Don't get the wrong idea, Walter. I only got the marriage certificate with Steven because I lost a game with some friends—" I cut her off, "Diana, I'm getting married."

The marking ceremony had reached the moment when the Luna crown should be exchanged, but my mate in name only still refused to lower his head. Once Drake Blackwood bit the side of my neck and completed the marking, our 66th ceremony would finally become real. Yet his eyes stayed fixed on his phone, and he did not even look at me. All because his widowed sister-in-law, Scarlett Moore, had posted a claim-release statement an hour earlier. Her late husband had been Drake’s older brother. Under pack law, Drake was obligated to protect her. Attached to her post was a ticket for a private pack flight, showing that she would land in an hour. Drake suddenly rose and announced in a low voice to the elders and pack members that the marking ceremony would be postponed. Then he left me standing there alone, turning me into a joke before the entire pack. I calmly packed away the Luna crown, calmly apologized to the guests, and calmly saw everyone off. After that, I opened Scarlett’s latest post on the MoonNet feed. In the photo, Drake stood beside her, holding out a newly hunted moonstone. I gave a bitter smile and called my birth parents through the private pack link. “Father, Mother, I’m willing to come back now.” “I’ll accept the marriage alliance for the Frostvale Pack.”

Jessica has just landed her dream job and sold the film rights to her novels. Then she stumbles across an online post from her closest friend, Linda, asking strangers how to ruin her life. When Linda tries to sabotage Jessica's career, expose her pen name, steal her boyfriend, and destroy her author account, Jessica quietly gathers every piece of evidence and turns Linda's own schemes against her. By the time Linda realizes she has been caught, Jessica is ready to send her former best friend to prison and take back everything she earned.

"What if....you were the one inside this novel?" In a chain story, the novel started with a girl named Leah, a beautiful girl with spoiled love from her brother [Lewis] he, who protect her from dangers, and her friends [Nami, Gu, Georgia and Ole] they, who helped her from her woes and problems. Now, however, she found something new. A novel that will change her life forever. If that's the case, then what will Leah do if she found herself in a novel where the novel chained her? "What if...." in a story, where you are just a side character running around with the main characters. Just "what if..."

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband's childhood sweetheart called, claiming a burst pipe at her home. Without a second thought, he ditched our celebration to play handyman. Moments later, Vivian Duffy's social media lit up with a smug post. [No matter when or where, my Superman arrives at one call. How should I reward him?] Accompanying the post was a photo of scattered condoms and torn clothing on the floor. I forced a smile, picked up my phone, and dialed a number. "My pipe is broken. Care to fix it?"

I saw a post while scrolling through my social media. [Adult male merman for sale. Hard to tame. Letting go for cheap.] I commented, [I'll take him.] The seller asked for ten thousand dollars and promised doorstep delivery. When I opened the package, the merman was nowhere near 160 pounds. He barely weighed over a hundred. His skin was sallow, his ribs visible beneath it, and his tail fin was rotting at the edges. I messaged the seller, [I want a refund.] The message failed to go through.