Indian Male Stories

A mother & son's train journey becomes hell when the mom is forced into a gangbang. The son who earlier enjoyed seeing his mom getting ogled at, has a different humiliation awaiting him.

Be warned. The story contains rape, self-loathing and suicidal thoughts. It's cruel and evil. Only the most perverse will like it. Summary: A girl hates her voluptuous body for the effect it has on people. She loses something important and goes on a very dark path.

Early twentieth-century Indian provincial governor, Rajeet, the Raja of Raipur, has groomed fourteen-year-old David, the son of his English accountant, for years and, at last, is bringing him into his household and bed. Rajeet follows the tantric techniques of sex and wants David to learn his favorite tantric positions. He sends him to study with hunky tantric master, Aakesh. What could possibly go wrong with that?

Meera's father-in-law deflowers her.

Indian Hotel staff gets his first taste of white pussy, with the help of spiked mimosas.

Hot Indian housewife kavya fucks her servant ramu to get pregnant as husband is impotent. Kavya loves getting fucked and tries gangbang by army and his friends who are lower class workers.

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"

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