Pretty Little Wife Novels & Stories

‘How in the world am I supposed to be focused on this house tour when all that was running in my mind is that line he said?’ It was impossible to ignore, let alone forget. ‘Allow me to spoil you a little, Isobelle.’ “A little? A little?! How could this little kingdom be categorized as little?” Belle stared at the signed impressionist painting. That art alone looks like it should be in a museum. Wherever she looked, there’s at least one thing that would be considered a treasure. “I didn’t marry him for money, didn’t I? Gosh. What if I’m really one of those gold diggers? Oh, hell.”

Elisa White opened the door completely and let her in. After the woman put down her things, she had no intention of leaving. Elisa White frowned, waiting for her response. She had a strange feeling. The woman turned around and looked at Elisa White from top to bottom, snorting softly, "How can someone like you be worthy to be President Brich's wife?" Elisa White felt that her outer appearance and dressing had been despised, "So his wife should wear something exposed like a madman?"

She asked, "What's wrong?" The boss shook his head, "No, it's nothing." "That's her. This kind of person still wants to be the wife of a president? She's such a b*tch. She hooked up with her uncle. That was why she got divorced. She even dared to attempt to murder her husband." "I really can't tell. She looks like a young lady from a respectable family." "What young lady from a respectable family? She's obviously very evil. She doesn't look young, yet she's still wearing such a gorgeous dress. This proves that she's just a sl*t."

Imagine my surprise when he introduces me to his cute little wife. What hurt most was that she was nothing like me. she was short, tiny and a brunette. Nothing like me, I was only a head shorter than Andre, I was blonde dirty blonde but still blonde. I wasn’t in any way cute. I was busty. Nothing about me is cute.

After all, she was his to look all the way. [Then, why are you wearing shorts?] his mini-self asked him. [That's different. Now shut up and go back! I need to cuddle with my hot, sexy wife.] he said as he tried to shoo his mini self away. [oh, shut uup! She is my wife too. Remember.] his mini-self defended. [She is mine!] he yelled at his mini-self. They both forgot that his mini-self was a part of him. But again even if it's his mini-self he doesn't want to share his wife. Never ever.

This was over. Instead, to my shock, my demure wife reached under her polka dot dress and pulled off her panties. They were white, cute, and cotton. She dropped them on the floor, then slid her dress back far enough so she could reach her own sex. No one could see anything private, only a bit of tan leg. But for Ariana it was scandalous.

“I’m not your sweet little wife anymore. I’m a slut for black cock.” Kellan gripped her hips and drove into her, his cock disappearing inside her over and over. Marina threw her head back and screamed, bouncing faster, her pussy swallowing him whole. And I sat there, my face only inches away, forced to watch my wife give herself to them completely.

stone and shouted, "I'm only going to ask you this question one last time Trad! Don't play games with me! What did you do to my wife?!" Trad looked at the stone from the house that sat on the ground from Beau's punch, looked back at Beau, and said while smirking, "You know what it was me. I hurt your precious Marigold but it's not like it matters anyway. When are you going to wake up and realize that she's nothing more than a piece of property?! I mean think about it! Your father bought her for 10 million dollars, he just sold her which means nobody is looking for her. You can do whatever you want with her and nobody will care because nobody is looking for her. You and I are men and I know

On the day of my wedding anniversary, I receive a strange photo from a friend back home. "Why is your wife working at a nightclub?" his message reads. In the photo he sent, my wife, Gwendolyn Shaw, is wearing a tight-fitting skirt. She looks utterly miserable as a group of men forces alcohol down her throat. I am the richest man in Shenton City. So why on earth is my wife entertaining men for money at a nightclub? Before I can question her about it, she sends me a selfie from a hospital checkup. "It's been three whole years since you left the country, honey. I miss you so much…" I stare at the photo in disbelief. My beautiful wife has shaved her head. Her skin is dry and sallow, and

Mіllіе Hаttоn wаѕ thе рісturе of thе wеll аdjuѕtеd hоuѕеwіfе. Smаll, slender, well drеѕѕеd аnd wеll соіffеd, she еxudеd аn аіr оf ‘оrdіnаrу’ that wаѕ whоlеѕоmе аnd tоtаllу dеmurе.