A 'My Husband Is Perfect For Me' Story Meenal has been married for less than 48 hours. Her new husband, is a good man, but he's also boring, pompous, and utterly oblivious. Trapped with him in a train compartment bound for Indore, she finds herself the object of intense fascination for four charismatic college students. What begins as a harmless game of staring and teasing, quickly escalates into a dangerous battle of wills. As the miles go by and her husband's snores fill the air, Meenal must confront the truth about herself.
Sex Contents: Much Sex | Genre: Erotica Tags: Ma/Fa, Consensual, Reluctant, Heterosexual, Fiction, Cheating, Slut Wife, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Indian Male, Indian Female, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Indian Erotica, Illustrated Downloads: 6076 Votes: 32 | Score: 6.82 Size: 141KB | 25,936 words |
Posted:Concluded:
Ten years before Karen was a newlywed teacher, Alan a senior in high school. The teenage crush he had for her was obvious to both the bride teacher and her new husband. What was also obvious over the years was that Karen never lost interest in the boy. Her husband wondered, given the chance, what if?
The Birching Society is about a patriarchal organization that views women as objects to be owned. Females have no rights, they are not capable of higher intellect. They use heavy corporal punishment, torture, mind control, humilation to mold the females into subservient fuckdolls for the pleasure of the men of the organization.
A story in the Futanari Parables Universe
Erica and her sister Jill, a futanari, are paid to pose for a photographer. They discover unexpected things about their relationship.
A husband makes enquiries with a photographer regarding having his wife pose for explicit shots. When she is left alone with the photographer she shows just how daring she can be. But the husband is not fooled.
I detested my father, a greasy loser I loved to tease, letting him look at what he could never have. I thought I held the power. I never asked what he did with all that wanting, down in the basement, building a copy of me a piece at a time. The copy was only practice. The night I went down there myself he was too big and it hurt and I came around him anyway. He wanted me: fighting, hating it, coming, bred. Then he wore me down to nothing. Nobody saved me. No happy ending.