Why Was A Day No Pigs Would Die Banned?

Imagine neglected wives finally breaking free, spreading their legs for thick cocks and wicked tongues. Picture desperate fingers buried in dripping, “loose” pussies while cruel husbands watch only for their women to discover far bigger, crueler pleasures elsewhere. Expect vicious degradation, public fingering, filthy disobedience, creamy creampies, squirting orgasms, and threesomes so nasty and intense they’ll make your clit throb for hours. These stories get progressively darker, wetter, and more depraved. Pushing every boundary until you’re clenching your thighs together, desperately trying not to moan out loud. Whether it’s a secret revenge fuck on a massage table, a powerful boss claiming what doesn’t belong to him, or a best friend joining in to turn pleasure into pure filth, every page is packed with mind-blowing, pussy-pulsing action. This collection will make you touch yourself. It will make you cum hard, shaking, and repeatedly while you hide your screen and bite your lip to stay quiet. Your fingers will slip between your legs again and again, chasing the same dirty highs these characters can’t get enough of. Read it discreetly. Keep it hidden. Keep one hand free. Because once you dive into these dark erotic tales, your panties will be ruined, your body will betray you, and you won’t be able to stop until you’re a trembling, satisfied, filthy mess. Warning: Extremely explicit. Pure degradation and lust. 18+ only.

The very first thing I do after I come back to life is find a pig and get married to it. In my past life, I was on the brink of getting engaged to my lover of ten years, Anthony Warner, who was a regimental colonel. In order to celebrate my engagement, Hannah Larson, my cousin, gave me a bracelet, and since it was a thoughtful gift from her, I wore it all the time. Yet, on our engagement day, Anthony didn't just call off our engagement, but he also berated me, calling me a tramp and a homewrecker who destroyed his relationship with Hannah. I was completely at a loss and tried to defend myself, but Hannah suddenly stepped forward and burst out crying. "I know my family and educational background surpass yours, but you can't just ruin my relationship with Anthony out of jealousy, Natalie! Anthony and I have already made a lifelong commitment to each other, so please just let it go!" Anthony turned and led Hannah away. They then got engaged shortly afterward. I was left standing there, becoming the subject of gossip from my relatives. They called me a shameless home-wrecker, and their scorn extended to my parents, who were shamed for raising such a child. They eventually took their own lives from all the rumors, and I couldn't bear the pain of losing them, so I ended myself, too. I suddenly open my eyes and find myself returning to the day Hannah presents me with the bracelet.

My husband, a military colonel with whom I’d been married for ten years, was barred from entering our son’s funeral wake. Because before our son died, he made three final wishes. The first wish was not to tell his father about his death just yet, as he was afraid the news would upset him. Secondly, to cook his father’s favorite meal and let his father be there for his final birthday. Lastly, if his father were to miss his birthday, then under no circumstances—no matter what—never allow that man to appear before his grave. Even though the man’s eyes were bloodshot and his body was shaking as he cried his heart out in the torrential rain lashing outside the funeral home, I never let the man take a single step toward my son after his death. Three days earlier, after spending a whole night setting fireworks with my childhood friend and her son, Logan Pearce came home with a brand-new schoolbag. That was his idea of making up for missing our son’s birthday. The man frowned, puzzled by the tears in my eyes. “Isn’t it just one birthday? I’ll make it up to him next time, won’t I? Little did he know that our five-year-old son had already died from an asthma attack. The little boy would never live to see the first day of school.

I'm betrothed to Hylton Miller from the moment I'm born. For as long as I can remember, he protects and loves me like I'm already his wife. Even if I get a tiny splinter on my hand, he holds it carefully as he gently clips it away. That is, until the young woman his family sponsors offends a client and is about to be sent to Zubania. He drugs me with a glass of wine. When I wake up, I'm in a foreign country and trapped in an illegal factory. Here, I endure inhuman abuse, torment, even humiliation... At my lowest, when despair almost swallows me whole, that sponsored young woman appears before me in a pristine, custom-made white gown. She smiles sweetly and presses the play button on a voice recording. And from the speaker comes the voice I long for every day and night. "It's fine. Alina's the young lady of the Winslet family—they won't do anything to her. But Priscilla? She's different. Worst case, I'll make it up to Alina when she gets back…" In that moment, it feels like someone tears my heart open with their bare hands.

Three years ago, Maya felt something she shouldn't have for Derek Hayes. He's her best friend's father. Eighteen years older. Completely forbidden. She's avoided him ever since. But when Sophie invites Maya to spend Christmas at Derek's Colorado estate, two weeks of forced proximity ignite everything they've both been fighting. Secret glances become stolen kisses. Innocent touches turn into something neither can resist. They tell themselves they'll end it before Sophie finds out. But some loves refuse to stay hidden. When their secret is exposed, Derek loses his daughter. Maya loses her best friend. And both face an impossible question: is love worth the destruction it causes? A forbidden Christmas romance about the space between right and wrong, where the heart wants what it shouldn't have and family is both the greatest gift and the highest cost.

When I learned that Holly Jones had gone to deliver cold medicine to her young assistant, even though she knew I was trapped in the elevator and suffered from claustrophobia, I asked for a divorce. Holly signed without hesitation. Smiling at her best friend, she said, "Jim is just throwing a little tantrum. His parents are gone, so there's no way he'd really divorce me. Besides, there's a thirty-day cooling-off period before it's finalized. If he regrets it, I'll graciously forgive him and take him back." The very next day, she posted a couples' photoshoot with her assistant, captioned: [Capturing your every sexy moment.] I counted the days. Calmly, I packed my belongings and made a phone call. "Uncle, buy me a ticket to Hudson City."