Sleeping Beauty Erotica

Xena Quinn posted in the homeowners' group: “Anyone interested in adopting a puppy? $200 each.” I took her at her word and rushed over to adopt one. When she opened the door and saw me, her expression immediately soured, clearly disgusted. “What? A woman?” She quickly raised the price to $2,000 per puppy, and I was so pissed off I just turned around and walked out. The next day, my boyfriend, Hugo Xavier, bought the dog for the original $200 price. Before I could even process what had happened, the doorbell rang. There she was, standing at the door in a revealing nightgown. “Hugo, are you home? I came to check on the puppy.”

I crave excitement in my life. To do that, I send my deskmate a video of me pleasing myself with a toy. Bit by bit, it awakens his desires…

I regressed to the day I auctioned for the school idol’s sugar baby agreement after her family went bankrupt. This time, I chose to stand by and watch coldly, rather than saving her… Because after I saved her last time, she was forced to marry me due to the rumors spreading at the auction. For the eight years we were married, she made me keep my distance from her. At the same time, she gave her old flame my company and my assets, even bearing him three children. When Gwen Hughes kicked me out of the house, she sneered at me. “It’s all your fault! You acted holier-than-thou, buying out my contract and spreading rumors so I had no choice but to marry you! If it weren’t for you, Ivan and I wouldn’t have missed each other for all these years!” After that, I died in agony. Now that I had regressed, I would not interfere in their lives again.

Kane Porter was as boring as his name implied. Of all the financial coordinators under me, he was the one least likely to be interesting on an intoxicated evening. Kane was quiet, well-mannered and nobody was friends with him. I was his boss and I got along well with everyone until I came across a problem. The account I’d been skimming from had a good hunk of change missing now. Not good. How could I have it investigated without flagging myself for the ten thousand dollars I’d ‘borrowed’? There was only one thing I could do. Porter was a nice guy. He’d help me out. No one could be safer to ask…

I have had a crush on Yannick for ten years but was too scared to confess. Then, I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. So, I tied him up and took what I wanted—again and again. His eyes burned red as he struggled. "Yulia! If you’ve got the guts, untie me!" I thought that the second I let him go, he would strangle me in fury. But instead, he flipped the script—dominating me with a raw, almost punishing intensity, not stopping for a second. "Yulia, do I look like some weakling to you? So weak that you had to drug me?"

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..

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Research Center, and the only person in the world with experience in deep-sea rescue. When my sister’s submarine malfunctioned and was stranded ten thousand meters below the surface, I hung up on her distress call. Then I calmly walked into a police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research. A few minutes later, my father called. His voice was frantic and furious. “Your sister is missing. Where the hell are you? I’m ordering you to get to the site immediately and save her, or you won’t see a cent of the family inheritance!” I calmly pulled the blanket over my head and said into the phone, “I don’t have time, and you’re interrupting my sleep.”

I've been in a relationship with Ralph Green for seven years. However, he tells me he's sick of me. He finds himself a younger and prettier woman. I don't break down or cause a scene this time. I merely turn and leave. He's confident that I won't leave him because of how much I love him. Later, he finally finds a way to contact me. "Has it been fun pretending like you've gone missing, Mabel? Hurry up and come back once you've had enough of this fit." I'm not awake. The person beside me, Ambrose Steele, takes my phone away. He holds the phone up and deliberately leans down to kiss my cheek. "Mabes can't come to the phone. She's exhausted from last night."

A rich kid offers to pay anyone who'll be his companion to a ball ten thousand dollars. My roommate stops me from responding. "He's just a rich guy fishing for fun—he's using money to play around with women! Are you going to offer yourself to him for money? We can't be gold diggers!" My mother is sick, though. She needs my scholarship money to save her life. To my devastation, my roommate latches onto a school board member and takes away my scholarship. She even mocks me. "With your looks, you could've sold yourself for money. Here's a hundred bucks to compensate you." That's not all—an AI face-swapped picture of me are posted online. Countless people harass me because of them. My mother doesn't want to drag me down, so she takes her life. I break down and choose to jump off a building. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the first day of the semester. The rich kid is looking for a female companion. I immediately say, "I'm the companion you've been looking for, sir!"

The day before the semester began, my childhood friend Daniel Carter asked if he could borrow my private jet. Thinking he'd finally changed his ways, I agreed without a second thought. A moment later, he transferred a single dollar, calling it rent because he couldn't stand the thought of freeloading. The quirky amount said more than words ever could. I smiled and accepted it. On the first day of school, I kept things low-key, taking a cab back to campus. But when I arrived, there it was, my private jet parked right in the middle of the quad. The jet had been decked out in bubblegum pink, and students crowded around, their eyes shining with envy. My heart leapt. For once, I thought Daniel had finally figured it out. Beaming, I braced myself for his surprise. But as I drew closer, my smile froze. Sitting barefoot in the pilot's seat, my seat, was Clara West, the campus' queen bee.