Voluptuous Women Novels & Stories

Voltaire reveled at the profound proof of her femininity. And he is about to feast on it, not only with the use of his hungry eyes because he is aimed to ravish her with all his known skills and talents in pleasing a woman. She said she hadn’t had a good orgasm in three months. He will do all he can to make her forget such a sad memory and replace it with only the best of how he will make her feel, from tonight to every night of their married lives!

In fact, I did not have a particular destination in mind, only that if I could, I would have left the party entirely. Speaking of the party, it no longer appeals to me. All I can see now is a gathering of vultures and evil men. I looked around again, and watched men laughing and shaking hands, all clothed in expensive suits and tuxedos, and I started to wonder what evil lies beneath the wealth and fashion. Then my eyes went to their women. Dressed in so much elegance and poise, laughing and bowing in courtesy to their men, blushing at every compliment handed to them freely. Oh, the poor things. They are all victims of these viscous men.

Maybe it's because I neglect my body's pleasure by working so much. We enter the spacious room, where three gorgeous women are lying beautifully on the bed and emitting a divine perfume that actually hooks me. They were completely naked, wearing only bras that barely covered their breasts and sagging underwear. One lay with her legs wide apart, feet flat on the bed, and just her nipple and clit are covered by a thong. She is entirely braless. They creep gently and seductively in our direction.

In difficult times, I know I can count on you to support me and remind me that I am not alone. Me: Isabella, you have been an inspiration to me from the moment we met. Your strength and determination are admirable. I am grateful that we can share this friendship and walk together on our journey. The other women agreed, sharing their own words of gratitude and appreciation. I felt honored to be surrounded by these strong and courageous women, who enriched my life in unimaginable ways. As the night progressed, we exchanged funny stories and special moments that we lived together. We laughed to tears and toasted our friendship, personal growth and the adventures that were yet to come.

“I’m not here to cause harm. I was just trying to survive. Please believe me.” But Valerio ignored my plea. He strolled toward a chair near the desk, movements slow and deliberate. He poured himself a glass of vodka, took a measured sip, and leaned back like a king in his domain. His eyes never left me, pinning me down harder than the guns ever had. The bathroom door opened again. Two women stepped out, wrapped in steam, their beauty sharp and familiar. I had seen faces like theirs plastered on social media perfect models with millions of followers, the kind of women who lived on glossy screens, not in rooms like this. Yet here they were, real and breathtaking.

Inside, Quentin lounged on a sofa in the inner hall, eyes covered, encircled by a bevy of sultry women whose laughter tinkled as lightly as the rain outside. The room was filled with the allure of women who were the talk of the town, internet sensations, and lesser-known starlets of the entertainment world. They all had that same, almost manufactured beauty, but each boasted her own unique charm, from statuesque to seductive. They paraded their ample curves and long, pale legs with pride.

Two women appeared almost instantly like they were generated. I recognized them. They were the high end girls and the ones reserved for the club’s elite. They weren’t like the rest of them. They didn’t strip for survival like I did today. They stripped for power and for the luxury it brings. Nothing else and nothing more. They had nothing covering them but a few flimsy scraps of fabric around their nipples and crotch. And as they slid onto the couch, one on each side of him. draping themselves over him like he was theirs to devour and something inside me twisted.

My hatred of The nonsense Concept-of-Women's-Happiness-bullshit sister Elise taught me once, two years ago. I remember she said, "--at the end, a woman's ultimate happiness was to fulfill her destiny. To do so, thou shalt be modest but charming, full of smiles, calm in her nature, smooth in her speech, forgiving, loyal and devoted to thy husband, never rejects the will of thy husband and thy attitude towards his wives has no prejudice; sincere and full of understanding--,"

We exchanged knowing smiles, a shared understanding igniting our desire to navigate the lively crowd, our hearts racing in anticipation. The gathering was a spectacle that commanded attention. Women adorned in stunning cocktail dresses and flowing evening gowns captivated the room, each silhouette enhancing their natural allure. The bold colors and exquisite designs—from daring necklines to gracefully low-cut styles—invited admiration and sparked appreciation from every man present. It was impossible not to feel drawn in by the beauty surrounding us, the atmosphere electric with excitement.

All the damn time. “Why not?” Rosie lifted her brow in that maddening way of hers,“These noble ladies pretend that they desire nothing, and yet their husbands seek out women with flesh on their bones, women who look alive, women who look like they can warm a bed and not vanish in the wind. Men crave curves more than they will ever admit. It is women who forged this frail standard to impress other women, not men. Men long for what feels soft beneath their hands. They chase after women who are unlike their wives. You truly believe Prince Lucian is any different from the rest of his kind? I have listened to far too many tales from the whorehouses of his youth. Women of every shape and colour th