Why Do Sitcoms Use Being Walked In On For Comedy?

“Hold the fucking counter,” he growls. I grip the edge. He slams into me raw (one brutal thrust that punches the air from my lungs). “Fuck—Jake—” I choke. He sets a punishing rhythm, hips snapping so hard the cabinets rattle, cock splitting me open. “Quiet,” he snarls, spanking my ass hard enough to echo. “Your brother’s ten feet away.” Another vicious spank. Then another. My skin burns red. “Yes—Daddy—harder—” I sob, biting my lip bloody. He spanks me again and again, handprints blooming, fucking me so deep my toes curl. “You love this, don’t you?” he rasps. “Love getting wrecked while Tyler sleeps.” “Yes—fuck yes—don’t stop—” ** Naked Scripts is a compilation of thrilling, heart throbbing erotica short stories that would keep you at the edge in anticipation for more. It's loaded with forbidden romance, domineering men, naughty and sex female leads that leaves you aching for release. From forbidden trysts to irresistible strangers. Every one holds desires, buried deep in the hearts to be treated like a slave or be called daddy! And in this collection, all your nasty fantasies would be unraveled. It would be an escape to the 9th heavens while you beg and plead for more like a good girl.

"Suzanna, tell me the truth. Am I built better than Luis?" I had gotten up in the middle of the night for a glass of water and accidentally caught a glimpse of my husband's coworker, Hank, with his girlfriend. They were tangled up together, without a care in the world about who might see them. I should have walked away. However, my legs did not seem to work anymore. Hank saw me. The next day, he blocked my path outside the bathroom. "Suzanna," he said, his voice low and amused, "you didn't believe me. Maybe I should prove it." Before I could react, he was already pulling down his pants.

One week after moving into my new home, my neighbor, Penny Halpern, suddenly knocks on my door and claims that my son, Benedict Geller, has been spying on her daughter, Monica Ritter, when the latter is bathing. "I saw everything with my own eyes! Every day, he'd cling to the windowsill and spy on me when I'm bathing! He even took pictures of me with a camera! "I'm so scared! Who knows what he's doing with those pictures? That boy really is disgusting!" Penny and Monica threaten me to call the police on Benedict if I don't pay them soon. Feeling rather puzzled, I just kick them out of my apartment. Unexpectedly, Penny summons all the neighbors in the residential area over to my place the next day. They all gather outside my door and begin insulting us at the top of their lungs. "Hey, pervert! Get out here and apologize to the victim!" "Take that perverted son of yours and leave this place! We want peace to be returned to our neighborhood!" When I tune the neighbors out, they begin smashing everything they can see at my front door. So, I can only call the police. When the police arrive, I bring Benedict out of the apartment before taking his sunglasses off. "Officer, I'd like to ask just how can my son spy on others, in this case?"

Ever since my wife had that oversized custom sofa delivered, she'd been sleeping in the living room every night. Whenever I tried to bring her back to the bedroom, she brushed me off with the same excuse—she was tired. Sometimes, she even locked the bedroom door from the outside. I would hear muffled, muffled sounds coming from the living room late into the night. The door wouldn't open again until the next morning. I couldn't take it anymore. The day she gave birth, she had just been wheeled out of the delivery room, still lying on the hospital bed, too weak to even sit up. I refused to hold the baby. Instead, I told her I wanted a divorce. Her eyes turned red as she stared at me. "Just because I've been sleeping on the couch every night, you're divorcing me, right after I give birth to our child?" I didn't hesitate. "Yeah."

As soon as I've moved into my new home, Rebecca Zangler, the white-collar office worker who lives across from my apartment calls the cops on me. Her reasoning is that I've been peeping on her whenever she's taking a shower because my unrequited love toward her has transformed into brimming hatred and resentment. When the police show up, Rebecca starts crying her heart out. Then, she begins berating me. "You pervert! Every night, you're the one peeping at me with your binoculars! You even uploaded my photos to the Internet! "I saw everything, you know! Those eyes of yours are nothing but lecherous! You really are disgusting!" My neighbors begin pointing at me while mumbling about me. Someone even comes over and starts roughing me up and calling me a scumbag. "Perverts like him should be chemically castrated!" "He looks decent at first glance, but you'll never know that he's actually a peeping Tom!" When faced against everyone's backlash, I take off my sunglasses quietly, revealing my cloudy eyes. "Officer, may I ask how can a blind man like me peep on others in the first place?"

My roommate is the kind of person who has to get to the bottom of everything and doesn't stop asking questions until she's satisfied. One night, while I'm sound asleep, she suddenly stands by my bed and calls my name, "Melissa, are you asleep?" Having been awakened by her, I shoot her an annoyed glare, but she just says, "See? You weren't really asleep. Otherwise, how could you have answered me?" One day, she decides to skip class. Thinking that I could help by signing her in on my phone, I do just that. However, near the end of the lecture, she suddenly bursts into the room and asks the professor, "I wasn't here today, so why does it show I was marked present? Is the system down?" The professor traces it back to me, fails me on the spot, and makes me retake the class. Later on, I join a speech contest. My roommate stands up in front of everyone and asks why my speech sounded exactly like her ideas. I get disqualified, lose my scholarship, and am labeled a plagiarist. Devastated, I climb onto the rooftop late at night. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the night when my roommate first asked if I was asleep.