Sexy Mom Story

She blankly stares at the unfamiliar ceiling. 'Didn't I die?! I'm sure I cut my wrist. I felt it! I watched my blood flow before I blacked out! What's happening?!' She is Raine, an orphan who died by her own hands... Now she's given a new life and a family. A life in ancient times.Author: Please excuse my lapses on grammar as I am an amateur writer.

“I'm going to make you forget every reason why this is wrong. By the time I'm done with you, the only thing you'll remember is my name on your lips.” “This is insane… we shouldn't…” “Shouldn't what? Touch you like this? Make you come apart in my hands? Your body has already decided, sweetheart. It's screaming yes even when your mouth says no.” Raina thought inheriting a mansion would solve her problems. She was wrong. Instead, it came with two problems: a mansion full of secrets and two men who wanted to own every part of her. The first one is pure temptation. Lucien knew exactly how to make her beg, fucking her rough and desperately. The second one, Darius, wanted to ruin her in the most delicious ways. He didn't just want her body, he wanted to possess her soul, to make her his in ways that should have terrified her but only made her burn hotter. Lucien was her step-brother and Darius was her stepfather and professor, both off limits. Both made her wolf howl with lust. When the past came hunting with claws and bullets, Raina discovered she wasn't just fighting for the inheritance but also got her life. But some men will burn the world down to keep what's theirs, and she was about to find out just his far two obsessed wolves would go to make her theirs forever. Some inheritances come with a price. This one might cost her everything. Yet, this wolf doesn't share… does she?

On the first day of every month, my mom will give me my allowance based on the number of times I had checked in with her last month. "You'll receive 20 dollars for greeting your parents once in the morning and once in the evening. But last month, you only hit ten days' worth of quota, so you can only receive 200 dollars. This also means your 300-dollar punctuality fee will be deducted as well. "After adding on 150 dollars for your basic necessities, you shall receive only 350 dollars for this month's allowance. Remember to write a reflection report on your lack of punctuality later. I'll only transfer you the money if your report is acceptable." I become so overwhelmed by anxiety that my voice starts trembling. "I was busy with my finals last month, Mom! I had to line up outside the library at 5:00 am every day just so I could secure myself a seat! That's why I couldn't call you in time!" In a choked-up tone, I plead to my mom, "I need 600 dollars for the train ticket all the way home during the holidays! 350 dollars really isn't enough for me! Mom, can you please—" But my mom cuts me off firmly, "The allowance system is something that I've specifically designed for you so that I can help you get rid of the bad habit of wanting to receive everything without putting in hard work! Why can't you just understand that I'm doing this for your own good?" After that, she ends the call mercilessly. Just as I'm filled with despair and helplessness, a blond appears before my eyes. He's willing to buy my train ticket for me, but in return, I need to leave with him.

I married my vampire husband ten years ago and gave him a half-blood heir, abandoning my career as a painter to become a full-time mother. Fortunately, my son inherited my talent. At just six years old, he held his first solo art exhibition, inspired by the theme "My Mother." But he never let me attend, and he never let me see his paintings. My husband said my presence would make Luke nervous---that I should stay home and do the housework as a good wife and mother, and wait for them to come back. I told myself he was just young and didn't know better, that he was only pushing back against my discipline, not truly rejecting me. Until the day I snuck into the gallery wearing a surgical mask pulled low. In the center of the crowd, my husband held our son's hand while tenderly pulling a woman in a red dress into his arms. He turned to the guests and announced: "This is Luke's mother---my wife." The three of them stood together, beaming with perfect happiness. And I---the one who'd stayed up all night setting up this exhibition---stood before the paintings while not a single person recognized me. That was when I finally understood. My seemingly gentle, caring vampire husband had long ago given our son a replacement mother. And I was nothing more than the human nanny who'd served her purpose by producing an heir.

My mother said I was a born beauty and was able to charm any man. She told me not to touch a man before my twentieth birthday. In the previous timeline, I listened to her, so when a wealthy heir was dosed with an aphrodisiac, I pushed him away when he tried to take me into his embrace. But the effects of the skincare routine I did transferred to my mother after my twentieth birthday. I used face masks, but my face became wrinkled and spotted. Meanwhile, my mother glowed with smooth and youthful skin. I danced, but I only became fatter while my mother became slim. Seeing how I looked like a fifty-year-old woman, my father called me a useless piece of trash and wanted to marry me off to a bald man as his second wife. I cried and begged my mother for help. But she said this was for my own good, her twenty-something face a mask of hypocrisy. I was forced to run away from home, but doing so only sped up my aging. Three days later, I died on the streets right by a trash heap. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in time to the night I met that rich heir. This time, I did not push him away but straddled him in bed.

Kara Baxter has only two things in life she held dear - her virginity and the house she grew up in. The bank has foreclosed on the house and Kara was scrambling to find someone who can help her redeem it. Her boss at the hotel, the billionaire Nico Bernardi, offered to help, but the repayment he was asking was unpalatable to Kara. He wanted her to be his mistress. Kara refused. Her virginity is not for sale. But why did she end up in an underground auction with her virginity as the major selling point for her market value? Then, to her horror, Nico bought her. In just one night, Kara lost the two things she held dear in her life. But she was a fighter and she will show this mob boss that he may buy her, but he can never buy her love. Join Kara as she navigates her way as the mistress of the mob boss and becomes entangled with his quest for justice and truth as she fights for her own survival and love in BOUGHT.

When hard-edged business tycoon, Arthur Wilson, crosses paths with , Eleanor Smith, their worlds collide in unexpected ways. Despite their vastly different backgrounds and personalities, they soon find themselves drawn to one another, each hoping to heal from their troubled pasts. But as they navigate the challenges of their budding relationship, they must also confront their own demons and learn to let go of old grudges. Will they be able to overcome the odds and build a future together, or will past mistakes tear them apart? Find out in this steamy, emotional romance about love, forgiveness, and second chances.

My mom is a pathological liar who enjoys making herself seem like the victim. Unfortunately, I'm always the scapegoat. When I was little, there was one time when she went out to play poker with her friends. As a result, she forgot to go home and prepare dinner on time. After that, she slapped me in front of the entire family. "This brat ran off to god knows where earlier! I went out looking for her, which is why dinner got delayed!" Because of that lie, I had to kneel in the courtyard throughout the night. When I was studying, I had to take an extremely important exam. My teacher repeatedly reminded the parents to prepare all materials required for their children. But my mom didn't even prepare anything for me. After that, she even said in front of everyone, "I've already prepared the materials for her. She was the one who threw them away when she was on her way to school because she didn't want to take the exam at all!" Since then, all of my classmates ostracized me throughout my entire school life. After I came of age, my mom kept crying to me in the middle of the night. "Your father has been abusing me for so many years. I had to endure everything for your sake, you know!" I advised her to get a divorce, only for her to tell an exaggerated version of what I said to my father. "Your daughter egged me on to divorce you! She said she doesn't need a useless father like you! I couldn't stand it anymore, so I'm telling you this!" He flew into a fit of rage on the spot, which led to him accidentally pushing me down the stairs. I died on the spot from the fall. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day my mom cries to me about my dad for the first time.

When I was ten years old, I sold my mother to human traffickers. My father calls me an ungrateful monster, a devil. He sues me 99 times, but each time, I am found not guilty because I am under 14. In the end, on his way to bring my mother home, he is beaten to death by the men in that village. 20 years later, my younger sister finally brings our mother—now unable to walk and mentally unstable—out of the village. She starts a livestream and breaks down in tears. "I beg the internet to put my devil of a sister on trial. Don’t let her get away with this! She destroyed my family. I will make sure she loses everything!" But only I know… My mother deserves it.

For three agonizing years, my mother struggled with kidney failure. Finally, after all the waiting and the constant dialysis, she was next in line for a transplant. Hope seemed so close. But then, my husband, Zachary Levi, an esteemed nephrology professor, did the unforgivable. He surreptitiously gave his lover's mother the kidney that was intended for my mother. He said almost dismissively, "Ella's mother couldn't wait any longer. Your mother's been on dialysis for so long, she's not going to die anytime soon." Later, my mother passed away. I called Zachary one final time. Yet, it was a woman who answered. "Margaret, right? Zachary's in the shower. Is there something you need?" I stared at my mother's smile on the gravestone, and an overwhelming emptiness spread through me. "It's nothing. Just wanted to talk about the divorce."