Short Erotica Story 소설 & 이야기

The moment my roommate walked in, she used my locker. She claimed to have too many things and nowhere else to put them. I rolled my eyes. Why should I let her get her way? I was not her parent. She was no princess, but she acted like one. I was ready to argue, but she tossed 200,000 dollars at me. “At your service, Your Highness!”

A week after my engagement, I was delivered an unusual engagement gift. My phone chimed. I glanced down and saw a push notification from a social app. [Fell in love with a female livestreamer right before my engagement. I feel guilty toward my older girlfriend who's about to become my fiancée—how should I deal with this?] The user ID was "SimonLovesClaire." The profile picture showed a melancholy side view of a man wrapped in a gray scarf. I recognized him instantly. It was my fiancé, Simon Aldrich. That limited-edition scarf was the birthday gift I had given him last year.

The project I had poured my heart and soul into earned the company over a hundred million in profit, yet the credit was handed to the vice president's nephew. I stood in a corner, the stack of source code documents trembling in my hands, nearly crushed by my grip. That nephew—who couldn't even get Hello World to compile—was now on stage, smiling brightly as he accepted the award. The vice president came over and draped an arm around my shoulder like we were old friends. "You're just an outsourced worker," he said casually. "These honors wouldn't mean anything to you anyway. Jason is new. He's got limitless potential. From now on, you'll be responsible for mentoring him properly." Only then did I realize that decades of struggle had been nothing more than laying out a red carpet for someone else's glory. That very night, while reviewing the project's code repository, I discovered a massive flaw—one serious enough to bring the entire system crashing down within three days.

I am Evelyn Windsor, the princess of the Northern Wolf Kingdom. After I become a premium member of Black Thorn Breeding Center, they gift me a companion wolf. They say companion wolves are loyal, gentle, physically strong, and will never refuse any of their owner's requests. But the one I receive not only refuses to let me get close, but he also locks himself in the guest room and won't even let me see him. Late at night, I come across an anonymous post on a wolf care forum. "I am a companion wolf. I hate the she-wolf who bought me. I only want to be with her younger sister. I'm about to get into heat. What should I do?" I click into it absentmindedly before I realize it. "I only have one suppressant left. I'd rather die than let her touch me. I only want her sister. No matter how many high-quality energy potions she buys me, they can't compare to a single piece of jerky from her sister. I feel disgusted just looking at her." I close the post and call the breeding center's customer service. I ask, "If I return my companion wolf, will the returned wolf be resold?" The customer service representative sends a smiling emoji and replies, "No. Disobedient, defective wolves will be euthanized. We're very sorry we accidentally sent you a flawed one. Please don't leave a bad review. We'll compensate you with a top-tier new companion wolf." With a tap of my finger, I agree to the return. A disobedient wolf deserves to be put down.

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.

In my second year running the company, my high school class monitor suddenly started tagging me nonstop in the group chat. [Alice, Vivian was only joking with you back then. Why won't you come to her party? Are you trying to make her feel guilty?] I didn't understand what was going on. Only after reading the messages did I realize that our class beauty, Vivian Spencer, had recently found her biological parents—and today, she had thrown a party to announce it to the world. Me: [I'm busy.] I had no intention of attending a party hosted by someone who used to bully me. But my answer didn't shut them up. Instead, it stirred up even more absurd speculation. [Don't tell me you're doing some kind of labor job and can't take leave?] [We're all former classmates. If you show up, I'll give you sixty dollars. That should cover two days of your salary.] Vivian chimed in as well. [Alice, it was just a joke back then. And I'd already dropped out by then. Why can't you let it go?] I stared at her message for a long moment before typing: [Only trash would call bullying a joke.] The group exploded instantly. [Vivian's no trash! She's a wealthy heiress. She's not even in the same league as you. Poor people really love to nitpick.] Vivian, ever the hypocrite, tried to smooth things over. [No matter what, today marks a new beginning for me. I hope you'll come to witness it. [We're classmates, after all. I don't hold it against you for forcing me to drop out. If you're short on money, I can even ask my dad to arrange a job for you.] Then she sent a screenshot of her chat with her father. When I saw her father's profile picture, I froze. Wasn't that the same profile picture as my freeloading dad? But I look seventy percent like my mom—it's impossible for me to be a fake daughter. And Vivian was two months younger than me. I let out a laugh. "Alright, I'll definitely attend your recognition party."

Warning:18+ Only. This book contains hardcore taboo stories and age-gap erotica. This captivating collection is filled to the brim with daring taboo tales and sizzling erotica that really push the limits of desire. Get ready to be swept off your feet by stories that explore the forbidden, where raw passion and secret connections spark in the most surprising places. Get ready to be intrigued with sultry tales of lust, tangled bodies, and forbidden thrills. Enjoy...

On the day I'm about to quit the game, I see countless live comments flashing across my vision. "Yay! The male supporting lead is about to quit the game!" "Now, the male lead won't have to worry about getting exposed for using the male supporting lead's game account to get into online relationships with others!" "Our darling male lead is too smart, after all! Whenever he goes on dates, he often uses the voice chat function in the game. That's why the male supporting lead is still kept in the dark!" "Holy shit, Henry really is lucky!" "To think that he used Vincent's max-level account to flirt with the four richest female players on the server!" "Later at 2:00 pm, he'll be meeting his first date partner, Yvonne Johnson the cold and aloof campus belle, at Cosmic Coffee!" "Tomorrow, he'll be meeting up with the top assassin in-game! The day after that, he'll go on a date with the second-highest paying player of the game! Wow, his time management skills really are amazing!" The "Henry" whom the live comments are referring to is Henry Luster, my roommate. So, he's been flirting with four of the top-tier rich female players while impersonating me, huh? More live comments streak past my eyes at that moment. "Why isn't the male supporting lead leaving? Yvonne is already waiting for the male lead right now!" "This is their first romantic date as the leads of this story! I can't wait to watch it unfold!" As I turn to look at Henry, who's styling his hair before the mirror, I suddenly realize that I'm the supporting male lead whom the live comments are referring to. My lips curl into a small smile. Since Henry has been using my identity to become a virtual casanova, then it's not wrong of me to attend each date in person on his behalf, right?

The story of 'EVERY WOMAN CANNOT BE PRETTY' is a message to millions of women around the world who feel inferior due to their average looks that ‘ Beauty is not in the face alone.’ The protagonist in this story, Sarah Liam suffers from PCOS ( Polycystic Ovary Syndrome) with side effects of being obese, acne prone and having more than normal hair growth on face and body. To top it she is short in height and has a prominent mole on her chin. In all, she is not what one can call “pretty”. Her husband wants to use her as a sex toy, her best friend betrays her trust by sleeping with her husband. Faced with treachery by loved ones, shunned by many, at the brunt of the unkindest of jokes, the story shows how Sarah manages to rise like a Phoenix, hold her head high and eke revenge on the people who have cheated her, solely with the strength of her talent and grit. But with her flawed appearance, will she ever find true love? Can she ever aspire to marry a handsome man or will she have to settle for someone similarly flawed? Read on..

When we're in a meeting during an overtime shift, Jazmine Garcia's secretary, Alvin Bauer, whisks a powerbank from her bag, as if it's the most natural thing to do in this world. Jazmine merely glances at him. She opts not to comment anything and just continue the meeting instead. The next morning, I hand over a divorce agreement that I've just printed. Jazmine chucks it into the trash can impatiently. "All this just because Alvin used my powerbank?" I nod for a moment before shaking my head. "It's because he never told you that he wanted to use your powerbank, and yet he took it from your bag in a natural manner. On top of that, you didn't stop him from using your powerbank, too." Jazmine shoots me a nasty glance at my words. Then, she drops her signature onto the divorce agreement before throwing it at my face. "You really have too much free time on your hands! All you do is pay attention to such menial matters and picking fights with me over them! "I've already signed the divorce agreement! I'll have you know that since you have the guts to bring up divorce, you should be ready to suffer from the consequences! I will never go back to you!" Jazmine and I are childhood friends, and our relationship has spanned for more than 20 years. She refuses to believe that I'll give up on our relationship over such a petty matter in such a short time. But the straw that ends up crushing the camel is never the final straw.