Pulp Fiction Trunk Shot

Late one night, I was scrolling through social media and stumbled upon a trending post. "Does your husband ever say you're obsessed with your brother?" One comment sat at the top with thousands of likes. The profile picture showed a cartoon girl covering her mouth, laughing. "Oh, I can answer this one! My husband used to say that too, but here's the thing: he's actually the son I had when I was 19!" Every word oozed with smug satisfaction. Some commenters tore into her, calling her manipulative and her husband a total sucker. She only got bolder. She posted a screenshot of a bank transfer with the details blurred out, right next to a photo of limited-edition sneakers. "All my son had to say was he liked them, and my husband caved! Then he gave him extra cash for a fancy dinner!” "A guy like this? If I don't milk him, who will?" I stared at the sneakers and the transfer amount. They matched exactly what I had bought for my "brother-in-law" that afternoon and the money I had just sent him. Down to the last cent. Ice shot through my veins. That sucker she was bragging about? That was me.

Readers discretion advised. Hello readers. So this is an erotic collection featuring more than 15 forbidden steamy stories. Now I promise you this is isn't the usual erotic book. This one is filled with forbidden characters and events that will question your moral while you stroke yourself at 2am in the night. So thread carefully! Forbidden never felt this good!!! A snippet: "You're so wet, Little Saint. Is this what you've been hiding from me all this while?" He growled into my neck as his other hand pressed hard on my back, forcing my body to smash his, my breast moulding into the hard ridges of his taut body. Like a scene out of a movie, his head shot up and then he grunted, "Forgive me, father, for I am about to sin." And before I could push him off, he grabbed the back of my neck and then smashed his lips on mine, his tongue wasting no time to shove itself into my mouth. His mouth was hot, tender and hard all at the same time, and before I could utter any world, his finger thrust into my dripping cunt.

My dad’s crush came back, and my mom decided to fake her death. “Jane, I’m the main character of a tragic story. If I don’t fake my death now, I’ll end up miserable. “Go tell your dad that Quiana killed me.” In my past life, I had done exactly as she said. My dad had flown into a rage and destroyed the Sullivan family. After that, my mom returned to the land of the living. I thought our family would finally be whole again. Instead, she clung to Dad and cried. “I gave Jane my contact information. How could she say I was dead?” To punish me, my dad locked me in a cold storage room. My mom shot me a cold look. “That’s what you get for calling that woman pretty.” In the cold storage room, at −58°F, I froze to death. When I opened my eyes again, my mom had already faked her death and ran off with her devoted admirer. I looked at my dad and asked with an innocent expression, “Dad, what does eloping mean?”

" I hate you but I want to kiss you." His husky voice whispered into my ears as he pinned me against the wall. It was getting hot in here and down there as well. "Go ahead, after all, we are frenemies." I bit my lips as we maintained eye contact. He groaned before locking his lips with mine and fondling my bosom. *** Riley Anderson is the son of a Billionaire, he's arrogant, proud and bipolar, he has severe anger issues, he's not your typical player because he's selective with the girls he wants, he's the definition of player who got played by his high school ex girlfriend when he became vulnerable, he detest love. Ivy Moore, she's the daughter of a Billionaire who deals on real estate, she's beautiful and antisocial, she hasn't been lucky in the relationship and friendship department either because of her past experiences, she doesn't want to be shot by Cupid. They meet in college and hatred becomes the order of the day, they can't stand each other, they are either bickering or lip locking or even worst, fucking their brains out. Will enemies ever become lovers?.

I lifted my head from Rhys's arms, his strong chest rising and falling against my cheek. Silk sheets tangled around our naked bodies, the air thick with the scent of our passion. After a passionate night with my childhood friend, the Mafia heir, I was jolted awake at three in the morning by the shrill ring of a phone. It was the Don, ordering me to bring Rhys back to the estate for an arranged marriage. I figured it was just another heiress trying to claw her way into the Griffin family, so I kissed his forehead, pressing myself against him and whispering with a low laugh. "Rhys, what's your plan for this boring princess?" He arched an eyebrow, wrapping a lazy arm around my waist. "Baby, make sure you pick out a good tie for me. I need to make a good impression on my future father-in-law." Seeing me freeze, Rhys sat up and shot me a casual glance, his voice laced with indifference. "Maeve, what's with that reaction? We're just having fun." "You didn't actually think you were going to be the next Donna of the Griffin family, did you?"

My parents died when I was ten years old, but a big shot in Jade City adopted me. It was rumored that Sean Graham was a cruel and violent man, but he doted on me for nearly ten years. He booked the advertising screens in the city to celebrate my birthday and promised to marry me when I got drunk and pestered him about it. I called him Uncle Sean at his request. Fear gripped me when I woke up in his bed every morning, but I kept it a secret. Yet one time, we accidentally slept with each other. I got pregnant with his child and wanted to keep it, but I knew I would not live for much longer. One day, I heard his conversation with a servant. “Clean up Zella’s room for Yulia.” “But Mr. Graham, Miss Cooper has been staying there for ten years. Didn’t you design it for her?” “No, I only let her stay there because Yulia had gone abroad.” I touched my belly as disappointment gripped me. It turned out that the man who had promised to provide me with a home as long as he lived wanted to drive me away.

In the tenth year of being the secret lover of Luca, a Mafia Don, I died. When the bullet tore through my chest, I used the last of my strength to dial his number. “Luca, I’ve been shot… Please, save me…” On the other end, he let out a careless, mocking snort. “Eva, is this another one of your tragic‑act routines? Helena’s waiting for me to have breakfast with her. I’m tired of this game. Stop bothering me.” Then, the call cut off without mercy, and so I closed my eyes in despair. When I opened them again, I had gone back seven days before the shooting. This time, with trembling fingers, I dialed a number I hadn’t dared to touch in three years. “Marcus, three years ago, you said you’d marry me. Do you still stand by it?” The voice on the other end exploded. “Eva! You finally called me! I’m in Sicily, clearing out an enemy faction. I can’t get back right now. “Give me seven days. I swear I’ll come back to you in a blaze of glory!”

I dropped by to help my younger sister revise her thesis, and while I was at it, I joined her research group for dinner. The moment I walked into the private dining room, a few girls blushed and called out to me. “Hey, handsome, are you single? Give us a shot!” My sister’s boyfriend, Eric Pensworth, looked at me with a faint smile. “Man, you look kind of familiar. You remind me of that pretty boy everyone’s been talking about on the forum. “They say you slept with Professor Alva Jackson and stole my direct-entry PhD spot.” I froze. The Alva Jackson he was talking about was the newly hired professor at Adams University, fresh back from overseas. Just as I was about to explain, he cut me off with an innocent look. “Maybe I got the wrong guy. You look way too respectable to be the kind of guy who lives off women. “But Professor Jackson’s nearly fifty. How could you even do it with her?” I stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Since when had I become a fifty-year-old woman? Was there another Alva Jackson at Adams University besides me?

Aida Sagar has known her fair share of challenges. At twelve year’s old she lost her mother in a car crash, that she was also fatally injured in. What she couldn’t understand is how she returned from the potential peaceful realm of the moon goddess and subsequently her family’s and pack’s treatment of her since that life changing moment. Having attacked her brother’s mate, the pack Luna, Aida was sentenced to a punishment worse than prison…training with the notorious Royal Lycan warriors. Starting a new life, she becomes a popular addition to the team but not all appreciate a Pack Princess’s Alpha blood status. After being shot at by silver bullets and undercovering a rebel plot to poison trainees to control lycans through witch craft, Aida makes some very powerful friends but also powerful enemies. The Lycan Prince Lance claims to be her fated mate, but Aida knows for a fact that having died, any mate bond would have been severed in that moment. But perhaps the moon goddess doesn’t hate Aida after all. Perhaps Aida will learn that nature has a balance and a price must be paid to maintain that balance.

TEASER SCENE Her back hit the wall, legs wrapped around him as he slammed into her— deep and brutal, ripping a strangled moan from her lips. She clawed at his shoulders, but he pinned her wrists with one hand, the other gripping her throat, controlling every gasp. “Look at me,” he growled, fucking her harder, her pussy walls fluttered helplessly around him. “Now come while I’m still inside you,” he ordered. Her body obeyed instantly— shaking, gushing, and screaming. “Good little whore,” he growled, still fucking her through it, never slowing. “You’ll come again.” And she knew she would— whether she could handle it or not. **** This isn’t romance. It’s raw, reckless, pulse-pounding filth. A collection of forbidden encounters, from ruined vows, to messy secrets, and bodies that should never touch— but did anyway. Men who treated desire like a weapon. Brides who forget their vows on purpose— offering their necks instead of their hearts. Powerful men who don't ask… they take. Every story drags you to the edge, pushing your thighs apart, and makes you watch as pleasure destroys sanity— ONE BRUTAL ORGASM AT A TIME! No apologies. No morals. No happily-ever-afters. Just sex— wet, dirty, desperate, addictive. Are you ready to get fucked by fiction? 18+ ONLY | Extremely explicit content, taboo themes, possession, obsession & shameless pleasure. Read with a towel… or a partner.