The Wives Mga Nobela at Kwento

the woman asked, noticing that Jared seemed to be really concerned about the woman sitting in front of him. 'I've been around Jared quite frequently for the past five years, but never have I seen another woman like her around him, let alone one whom he would display so much affection to. This is interesting,' the woman thought. "My wife," Jared coldly replied. "You're married? How was I not aware of that?" she asked, her startled voice becoming louder. In response, Jared frowned, and a hint of irritation crossed his eyes. "Just do your job properly. There's no need for you to poke your nose into my personal affairs."

“Mother. You are asking things which are too personal to me.” She chuckled. “Personal? We are mafia wives honey. There is nothing personal in our world. You are lucky you didn't marry an Italian or you would have been fucked raw on the white sheets because your husband wanted to dwell as much blood as possible out of your vagina to boost his ego infront of the whole world. Women would have checked your thighs and body to see bruises because it showcases how wild your night must have been. You would have been slapped and punched by your husband had you denied him anything. And next day you would have to sit with everyone with a black and swollen face!”

The wives kissed each other messily while he fucked them, tongues sliding, moaning into each other’s mouths with every hard thrust. Marcus suddenly pulled out and sat against the headboard. “Come here. Both of you. I want you to ride me together.” Lila straddled his lap first, facing him. She sank down onto his thick cock with a long, satisfied moan, taking every inch until he was buried to the balls. Sophia straddled his face, lowering her soaked pussy onto his waiting tongue. The two wives faced each other, kissing passionately as they moved. Lila rode his cock with deep, rolling motions while Sophia ground her clit against his skilled tongue. Their hands ro

I never break my rules. Not for money. Not for loyalty. And certainly not for anyone else’s wife. Yet here I was, standing in a room where power whispered from every corner. The polished mahogany tables gleamed under soft chandeliers, men in tailored suits whispered deals, and yet all I could see was her. Selene Hawthorne moved through the crowd like a storm contained within elegance — untouchable, graceful, and utterly oblivious to the chaos she’d already sown inside me.

As nightfall approached, I anxiously fiddled with my dress, waiting for Marc to enter the room as he had promised. Earlier, there had been a heated argument among his wives, with Jade, the third wife, who claimed that she was told she would be the last. Blair, on the other hand, couldn't bear the thought of sharing her husband with another woman more beautiful than her and demanded that I be kicked out. Rona simply insisted that Marc sends me packing without offering a reason. As a maid led me to the bedroom, I already knew that my time here would not be easy. Never in my twenty years of existence did I imagine that I would end up marrying a man with three wives and becoming the fourth.

“I said I need space.” Valeria wiped her tears. “Where am I supposed to go?” she asked. Ivan looked at her with cold eyes. “Wherever you want.” Valeria stared at him in disbelief. “This is my home too,” she said quietly. “I'm your wife.” Ivan swallowed hard. “Not anymore.” Valeria's lips parted, but no word came out. She stared at him as if she had just been slapped. Mrs. Romano looked at Ivan in shock. “Ivan!”

I ask, stepping slightly to the side so I am no longer hidden behind Caleb's shoulder. The woman lets out a soft, mocking chuckle. "He hasn't told you about me? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Caleb always did like to bury things he couldn't handle." She looks back at Caleb, her expression softening into something desperate. "I'm Nancy, honey. I'm his wife."

Damon ignored everything else she said to focus on the one thing that seemed important to him, “Her duty as a wife you say?” He nodded, as if in understanding. Then he turned to every woman who married into the Winchester family. “Then I suppose everyone of you will join her as well?” The women looked at each other, tense and shocked, not expecting to be caught in the crossfire. They couldn’t speak, not one word. Every wife looked to their husbands for help, but the men were just as stunned. “Damon, what are you doing?” Sarah asked her son. He raised a hand to silence his mother, never shifting his attention away from the women once.

The women, who had mostly been minding their business up until now, suddenly turned their attention to me, as if she was waiting for the older woman to leave first. “You know,” one of them started, swirling her wine glass, “a wife’s duty is to make her husband’s life as smooth as possible.” Another nodded while the husbands watched. “Yes, men have a lot on their shoulders. They need their wives to support them, not give them unnecessary stress.” I frowned slightly, not sure where this was going yet, but something about the way they were looking at me made me uneasy. “Submission is key in a marriage,” the first woman chimed in. “A good wife never says no to her husband.”

Summary: My Wife Turns My Friends Into Her Personal Army Of Cocks, And I’m Forced To Watch It All Unfold ••• I have a confession. My friends are obsessed with my wife. Scratch that. They badly want to fúck my wife. We golf a couple of times a month, and every time we are together, the conversation circles back to Vivienne. I cannot lie. It turns me on as much as it makes me furious.