What Are The Peak Hours At Picklesburgh?

Welcome to P*rnstation. No plot. No sweetness. No fade-to-black. Just raw, dripping, filthy s*x that will leave you soaking and aching for more. From massive c*cks stretching tight holes to messy cream-filled endings, each story in this collection is designed to make you cum as you read. If you’re ready for wall-slamming f*cks, obscene dirty talk, and shameless pleasure that never stops, this is your station. One-handed reading highly recommended.

The Lighthouse at Black Hollow The storm came in without warning. One moment the sea beyond Black Hollow was silver and calm, and the next it was a heaving wall of iron-gray waves crashing against the cliffs. Wind screamed through the narrow streets, slamming shutters and rattling doors like impatient fists. Sixteen-year-old Mara Ellison stood at her bedroom window, heart pounding—not from the thunder, but from the light. It had flashed three times. Not lightning. The lighthouse. The old lighthouse had been dark for years.

"Stop… please stop… There are too many of you. You'll break me." On the bus back to the village, three rugged men from my hometown spread my legs apart and tore a hole right through the middle of my stockings. Steve Axwell, who lived opposite, said lecherously. "Kendall, I've watched you grow up. Let me check if you've started growing hair down there yet." Under the gaze of those big, strong men, I felt a mix of ache and itch. I couldn't stop myself from getting wet. "You're this soaked, and you've never been with a man? Don't worry—today, we're going to satisfy you real good."

"Ms. Smith, a complaint has been filed with HR. You have been accused of misusing your personal vehicle for unauthorized commercial activity." The administrative manager dropped a printed copy of the so-called joint complaint onto the desk, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. The company had decided to issue me a fine, placed a formal warning on my record, and revoked my performance bonus for this quarter. I stared at the handwriting on the complaint, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. I recognized it instantly. It was Selena Rogers. The same coworker who had been hitching rides with me to and from work every day for the past three years. It was all because of last night's storm. She had insisted I take a long detour to drive her to the mall so she could pick up her boyfriend, and I had said no. Then, in the break room, Selena's voice carried loud and clear. "Jennifer, I didn't have a choice. "We have to keep work and personal matters separate. The transportation stipend from the company isn't for you to make extra money." Around us, coworkers glanced over, whispering and pointing, as if they had completely forgotten how eager they once were to ask for a ride home. I took a slow breath. "Fine. I accept the company's decision." Then I pulled out my phone and made a call. "Mr. Wallace, I won't be renewing the lease on those two vans. "Yes. The ones that have been picking up and dropping off the admin and sales teams every day, free of charge." For three years, I had been the easygoing one, paying out of my own pocket every month to lease those vehicles so my coworkers could treat it as a perk. If that was now considered unauthorized business activity, then from this day on, everyone could figure out their own way to get to work.

Nubia has her life planned out. She is working on her master's degree in post colonial studies. She has a quiet apartment and a schedule she sticks to. Every Wednesday night she finishes class at nine thirty, walks to the bus stop, and waits. The bus is always late. There is always a stranger sitting on the bench. He wears headphones and draws in a sketchbook. He never speaks. She calls him Pencil Boy in her phone and does not think much about it. Then one October night the bus is delayed by forty three minutes. Eli studies architecture but he draws people instead of buildings. He has been sketching Nubia for six weeks without ever saying a word. He is quiet and pays close attention to things. He has learned to keep people at a distance because it feels safer that way. But when the cold night gets to Nubia and he gives her his hoodie, the silence between them finally breaks. What begins as pie at a late night diner turns into a Wednesday night tradition. Then a friendship. Then something much deeper. As Nubia and Eli grow closer, they must face the things that make them different. Race. Class. The dreams they are chasing. The families they come from. And the strong pull of a connection neither of them can ignore. Set over one school year, 43 Minutes is a warm and sensual love story about two people learning to truly see each other. It is about letting yourself be seen. And it is about the moments that change your life in less than an hour but stay with you forever.

The war between the Sullivan and Blackwell dragon clans has raged for centuries. Now it’s time for the war to come to an end. King Marcus Sullivan wants to combine the clans in order to secure the treaty, and the best way to do that is by mating his daughter, Leah, to a member of the Blackwell clan. The problem is, Leah doesn’t want a mate. She definitely doesn’t want a mate who is an overbearing, narcissistic dragon from the Blackwell clan. But she doesn’t have a choice if she wants to help secure the treaty and save her clan. Then she meets Ray. The alpha wolf makes Leah feel alive for the first time in her life. Suddenly, mating and spending the rest of her life with Ray is all she can think about. But Ray is not a dragon, and mating with him won’t solve her clan’s dilemma. So, what’s a girl to do when the fate of her clan is no longer the most important thing in her life?