Vintage Lesbians

An embarrassing incident took place on Jaylene’s Hall Of Vintage Collection opening day. While his grandmother was giving her appreciation speech with a proud smile on her face and was about to name Jaylene the next CEO. The light goes off and reappears with a sex video of him and his boyfriend displayed in the background. Jaylene was moaning and begging to be fucked by Lucas, his boyfriend. A public humiliation that left everyone gasping with disbelief. One night, one turn of events. His dream to become the next CEO is cut short as his grandmother had a heart attack and goes into a coma. Meanwhile, Alpha Rowan has been watching Jaylene from afar but he doesn’t go close to him. Not because he was an obsessed stalker, but because of his life destiny. On his coming of age, just like any other born of The Moon Valley Pack. He received his own fate and he is destined to find his fated mate but he can’t go close to him. He found Jaylene and decided to stay away from him and stay in the path of his destiny. Except, on that eventful day, when he had no other choices but to save Jaylene’s life from the crushing car accident by marking him which is highly forbidden.

I am the young lady of the vampire house of Kaelaris. Having reached marriageable age, I chose, from a stack of portraits, the eldest son of the human family Norefax. My family indulged my preference and arranged our engagement, awaiting the day of my wedding. I do not drink red wine, but for the sake of human ceremony, I secretly went out—without telling my family—to select a rare century-aged vintage, intending to prepare it for the engagement ritual. The woman beside me glanced at the cabinet I had pointed to and immediately instructed the sales associate, “That bottle looks quite fine. Let me have a look.” Without hesitation, the associate rudely brushed me aside and handed the bottle straight to her. A chill entered my gaze as I spoke, “There is an order to everything. I selected that bottle first. What you’re doing is hardly proper.” She looked me up and down with open disdain and let out a mocking laugh. “This bottle costs sixteen thousand six hundred dollars. Dressed like that, I doubt you even qualify to smell it.” “I am Ethan Norefax’s stepmother. In New York’s Upper East Side, so-called ‘rules’ have always been decided by the Norefax family.” What a coincidence—Ethan was precisely my fiancé, and the very reason I wanted to buy that bottle. I dialed his number at once and said evenly, “Your stepmother has taken the bottle of wine I reserved for our engagement. How do you intend to handle this?”

In a world fractured by the "Gray Death," the end didn't come with a whimper, but with the rise of the Beastkin predatory survivors with the strength of monsters and the hearts of kings. Rhea, a trauma intern turned scavenger, has learned the hard way that mercy is a luxury the ruins cannot afford. When she is betrayed by those she loved most and left for dead in a crumbling bakery, her only companion is a soot-covered stranger she pulled from the rubble of Sector 4. She thinks she’s saving a nameless survivor. She has no idea she is nursing the Ghost King back to health. Dominic is the Alpha of the Northern Citadel, an untouchable god of war hunted by his own kind. Broken and hiding behind a mask of amnesia, he watches the woman who saved him with a growing, predatory hunger. She is the "Diamond in the Ash," the same girl who held his hand in a dark pharmacy three years ago when the world first burned. As the heat between them ignites into a passion that threatens to consume the ruins, the shadows are closing in. While Rhea drowns her sorrows in vintage wine and dreams of a touch she thinks she’ll never have, Dominic’s "Men in Black" are quietly securing her borders. He came to find a traitor, but he found a Queen. Now, the Alpha will stop at nothing to reclaim his throne and build a new kingdom, one where the woman who showed him mercy finally gets the crown she deserves. He’s a King in hiding. She’s a healer with a broken heart. Together, they are the apocalypse’s last hope.

Also known as Daddy Won't Know. Scarlett could have pulled out all of her hair and screamed into the void until her lungs give out thinking about being her dad's plus one to a week long business trip on the last two weeks of her summer vacation. Then she found out that for the week they will be sharing a luxurious rental with her father's boss: Mr Blackwood, one of the most powerful men in the world who has a reputation for being ruthless, deadly, feared by anything and everything that walks and is infamous for not being particularly fond of women- And she concluded that her summer was officially ruined. Scarlett hesitantly makes the trip having convinced herself that her father's boss is probably another ugly, rich, fat, power- crazy man with a collection of tacky vintage suits and she's set on going out of her way to avoid him. That is, until on the first night, she awakens in the middle of the night and finds the muzzle of a gun pointing at her and a very tall, very naked, muscular, sexy as hell man of otherworldly gorgeousness wielding the weapon. And when he spoke in that dark, deep, velvety voice, she knew that her summer was about to get very interesting. "Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my bed?"

Thirty days. One month. A single, heartbeat-stopping wager. Benjamin Parker was the sun. A golden-haired scholarship recruit with flour on his hands and a heart that he wore—vulnerable and beating—on his sleeve. He spent weeks chasing the school’s "Ice Prince," offering handmade tarts and a smile that could melt the coldest winter. He thought his persistence finally paid off when Jonathan Hayes—the obsidian-eyed, terrifyingly beautiful heir to a tech empire—pinned him against the school gates and claimed him in front of everyone. But the "Golden Romance" was a lie from the very first kiss. Jonathan didn't choose Benjamin because of his heart; he chose him because he was a convenient target for a cruel poker-room bet. The stakes? A vintage motorcycle. The duration? Thirty days of manufactured affection. Now, the countdown is ticking. Between the silk sheets of Jonathan’s penthouse and the shadows of the St. Jude’s library, the line between the game and reality is blurring. Jonathan is the predator who accidentally caught himself in his own trap, growing addicted to the very light he’s destined to extinguish. Benjamin is the lamb who is slowly realizing the wolf isn't just at the door—he’s in his bed. When the moon turns red and the thirty days are up, the truth will do more than just break Benjamin's heart. It will shatter his soul. One month of sweetness. A lifetime of ruin. In the game of hearts, the house always wins... and Jonathan Hayes never plays fair.

"I spent three years being his 'used rag.' Now, I’m the one cleaning up his empire, starting with the trash." For three years, Shay Falcone lived for her husband, Massimo. She worked twelve-hour shifts behind the scenes, skipping meals and sleep to ensure his company became a billion-dollar legend. She was his ghostwriter, his secret strategist, and his most loyal soldier. She thought her reward would be the child growing inside her. But on the night of the Billionaire Launch, Massimo didn't give her a thank you. He gave her a death sentence. "You're a used rag, Shay," he sneered in front of the world's cameras. "A servant I don't need to pay. Meet my real wife, Elena." One shove from his bodyguards sent Shay spiraling into a stone fountain. As Massimo walked away to celebrate his wealth, Shay lay in a pool of blood, feeling the heartbeat of her child stop forever. Two years later, the rag is gone. The Ice Queen has arrived. When Massimo’s empire begins to crumble, he begs for a meeting with the untouchable Alessia Valois. He expects a savior; instead, he finds the wife he killed. "Shay?" Massimo gasps, reaching for her. "I... I’ve realized my mistake. Please, I still love you." Alessia doesn't even look up from her glass of vintage scotch. She steps over his hand as if he were a stain on the carpet. "I’m sorry, Mr. Falcone," she purrs, her voice cold enough to freeze his soul. "The woman who loved you died in a fountain. I’m just here to collect the debt."

"I thought you were the man who saved me. I didn't know you were the one who set the fire." The day my father gambled away my life was the day I learned that some monsters don't have claws—they wear tailored suits and drink vintage scotch. To the world, Abram is a philanthropist, a billionaire, and the undisputed King of the Lycan Underground. To me, he is the man who bought my freedom for the price of a debt he secretly engineered. He calls me his "Little Wolf." He dresses me in diamonds that feel like cold chains and keeps me in a soundproof penthouse where my screams are just background music to his obsession. He is the Gentle Gaslighter. He whispers that he loves me while he wipes the blood of my past from his hands. He tells me I have nowhere else to go, forgetting that he was the one who burned every bridge behind me. But Abram made one fatal mistake: He taught me how to survive him. Underneath my silk gowns and practiced smiles, the girl he "broke" is dead. In her place is a master manipulator who has learned to weaponize his own obsession against him. I will let him mark me. I will let him believe he won. And when he is at his highest, I will show him that a velvet noose still strangles just as surely as a hemp one. He told me I was his entire world. Now, I’m going to end it. Tropes: * Mafia Alpha x Captive Omega * Age Gap (42 & 20) * He Falls First (Obsession) * Vengeance/Revenge Rebirth * Betrayal & Tragic Twist

Logan Yusuf had the worst day of his life—he lost his job and caught his boyfriend cheating on him, all on the same day. But when he takes in a stray dog and wakes up the next morning to a handsome stranger on his bed, he doesn't realise his life had taken an entirely different turn.

He dipped his head back between my thighs and placed his hand under my a*s, pulling my waist towards him. He began licking around the edges of my p**sy, closing in slowly to the center. He traced me with the very tip of his tongue until he could taste my nectar. He licked the entrance of the v*****l hole, sucking my juice like it was liquid sin, like he wanted to drown himself in it. Then he dragged his tongue back to my c**t stroking it. I didn’t move, I kept still, as if I did he might stop and I was scared of that. My chest just heaved, letting out the faintest of breaths. Another stroke of his tongue on my sweet spot, and a very quiet m**n bubbled out of my throat. He moved his tongue again, flicking with more pressure and I jolted like I had been electrocuted. I pushed my hips forward and completely enveloped his head between my thighs, my knees bending until my legs were locked behind his head, burying his head deeper into my wet p***y. My body tightened, not like I was about to c*m, but like he was easing all the pressure he had built up. Are you looking for the best e****ca stories? The perfect e**tica content that would keep you on edge wanting more? Search no more, you’ve found the perfect one. Turn the pages and read, if you dare! This is a compilation of extremely erotica content ranging from forbidden s*x between step family members, student and teacher, between best friends, gays and lesbians and so much more! Note: Do not read if you’re below 18 Extremely erotica content!

My family owned Belgard Estate, a historic wine property that had recently gone viral after serving as the backdrop for a series of advertisements and product livestreams. On one occasion, my butler and I could not even enter the grounds. Influencers crowded the entrance, phones raised, security overwhelmed. My fiancée apologized. "The mayor wanted to borrow the estate, dear. I couldn't tell him no," she said. "Just bear with it for a while, okay? Once the trend dies down, I'll have them all cleared out. Trust me." I trusted her. I never raised the issue again. Some time later, my grandfather prepared to celebrate his 90th birthday. I returned to the estate to retrieve our finest vintage for the occasion, only to find myself nearly crushed by a shrieking crowd packed outside the gates. I slipped away and made my way to the back entrance after someone in the crowd called me a "free-riding bum." Bewildered, I was ready to present proof of ownership when a woman shouted over the noise, "Didn't you hear? Miss LePenn has already announced that Belgard Estate has been given to Jacques Martin! I don't care how big a fan you are of him. You still have to buy a ticket to see him like the rest of us!" I stood there, stunned. Jacques? The first man I had ever allowed to use this estate for a product livestream? It belonged to him now? And since when had Sylvia become the mistress of this place? Since when did she even have a boyfriend? Enough was enough. It was time to bring these people's business with Belgard Estate to an end.