Indian Female Stories

A married girl/woman who was unable to resist or oppose sexual approaches of guys, got involved in several types of troubles and was been ravished.

Catalogue of princesses our customers can use. Includes general information, descriptions and customer testimonies.

A good Muslim girl Cums of Age

A lactating woman visited her husband's uncle's house for a week stay. But the males of the house seduced her and then each one of them fucked her, also included their friends, in the whole week stay.

A Story in the Corporate Business Women's world Universe
A brutal catfight between 2 Indian mid-level management females for promotion to Head of Sales and the keys to the Executive restrooms on the twelfth floor.

A The Lingerie Company Story
A guy joins a company and loses everything. The story is told in multiple perspectives. The first one is of the cuck husband. So there is not going to be actual sex for first six-seven chapters. The naughty parts start on 8th chapter. I might rearrange the chapters after completely finishing the story.

A The Lingerie Company Story
A guy is betrayed and evolves into something sinister. This is the origin story of one of the characters in "The Lingerie Company"

Love knows no boundaries and finds its way when two hearts yearn to connect. This is the story of my wife and her lover — a passionate, generous man with a strong, masculine nature. Through his unwavering efforts, he won her heart and shared an intimate bond that transcends convention. As her loving and supportive husband, I have penned their love story for the world to witness—a tale of connection, passion, and the beauty of relationships evolving beyond societal norms.

In this spin-off to "Pacts, Gods, and Family," Ian Finnegan puts an end to the villainous career of hatemonger Ann Coulter with the aid of his angel Izaz, while also rewarding CNN host Fareed Zakaria.

The rain wasn’t the first thing to touch her skin that night. And the storm wasn’t the only thing breaking in. Meera opened the door wearing more heat than clothes. Two strangers stood there—soaked, silent, and staring like they knew things she hadn’t confessed even to herself. One watched. The other wanted. And both stepped in like they belonged. What followed wasn’t loud. It was quiet. Intentional. Drenched in something darker than lust. A strap slipped. A gaze lingered. A breath caught. A