Collection- My husband Invited Everyone

When I got off the plane, a notification popped up on my phone. It was an announcement of my wife's wedding to her lover on social media. I rushed to the company, but I was stopped by the HR director at the elevator. "You are fired. Our company doesn't need freeloaders like you." I was utterly confused. Wasn't this my own company? "Is this a direct order from Claire Luna?" I inquired. "Haha, you are just a nobody in the company. Why would our president Ms. Luna bother with you?" "This is Mr. White's order!" I laughed in disbelief. Since when did Evan White speak for my wife? "Where are they?" I asked the HR director. "They are finally having their wedding on the top floor of the banquet hall. You need to leave now as the top floor is only accessible to the executives." Upon hearing that, I pushed the HR director away. I immediately pulled out my identification card and tapped it on the access scanner. "Beep. Highest authorization confirmed. Welcome back."

I get undressed and hide in my husband's dorm at work to surprise him. Yet it backfires on me—instead of my husband coming, his three colleagues are the ones who show up. They're thoroughly aroused by my lingerie and have their way with the cooking lady on the kitchen counter. It's such a raunchy scene that desire burns within me. I pleasure myself while watching them but accidentally moan out loud. The men turn to look at the closet where I'm hiding…

While I was completely in the dark, my husband secretly donated his sperm. Before long, the two women who had received it showed up at my doorstep. Both were heavily pregnant. And both moved into my house as if they owned the place. It was over a hundred degrees outside, yet they still had the nerve to order me to go out and buy them drinks. I told them to get out. Instead, they pointed their fingers in my face and cursed at me. "Bitch! From now on, we're Ryan's first and second wives. How dare you act so high and mighty?" "Our sons are going to inherit Ryan's business empire. You'd better take good care of us. If you behave, we might even let you stay on as the help." Furious, I called my husband home and demanded an explanation. But instead of standing by me, he took their side. "Victoria, they're just two poor women from the countryside. Cut them some slack and forgive them." I laughed right in his face. He had thrown away a wealthy, accomplished wife for two shameless strangers. "Don't forget who's really in charge of this family. Since you're so worried about them, you can get out with them."

Exotic Hotwife collection Some wives are meant to be shared, especially those married to tiny-dicked men, for there fame and wealth. They smile sweetly at dinner parties, hold their husband’s arm in public, and play the role of the perfect, loyal spouse. But deep down, they burn and crave for thick, dominant cocks, they fantasize about being used like filthy whores in front of strangers moaning, squirting, and begging while their husbands watch in humiliated silence. This is Erotic Hotwife Erotica a raw, explicit collection of stories about once-respectable wives who surrender completely to their slutty urges. In these pages, elegant, sophisticated women transform into public cumsluts. They get fucked in offices, lecture halls, luxury hotels, beaches, and high-society events. They spread their legs and take load after load while their husbands are forced to watch, stroke their pathetic cocks, and clean up the mess. The wives don’t just cheat. They perform. They beg. They squirt. They get ruined for everyone to see.

My husband dotes on me. He's always saying I'm the one he cherishes most in this life. Everyone else envies me too, saying I married well—pampered like a princess. It all started when I mentioned, offhand, that tailored cuts flatter my figure. From that moment on, he kept it in mind every day, going out of his way to gather all kinds of designer womenswear for me. In the walk-in closet at home, there's always a wardrobe filled exclusively with my new clothes—each piece haute couture, with exquisite fabrics and impeccable craftsmanship. On New Year's Eve in our third year of marriage, the house was lively, packed with relatives chatting and laughing. With a smile, my husband handed me a gift box. "Go on, open your New Year's present." The frustration and resentment I'd been bottling up for so long exploded in an instant. I shoved the box to the floor. "It's the New Year—can you just stop for once?" The moment the words left my mouth, everyone fell silent. The relatives' expressions shifted; one after another, they began to scold me for being ungrateful, for not knowing how lucky I was. My husband looked at me, eyes full of shock and hurt. "I just bought you some pretty clothes. Why are you angry?" Amid their pointing fingers and his wounded questioning, I rushed into the walk-in closet like I'd lost my mind, dragging out those designer clothes and throwing them all over the floor. Everyone stared at me, stunned. No one said another word.

Rule 1: Don’t fall in love with me Rule 2- Don’t touch my things Rule 3: This is not your home, don’t decorate/ change anything Rule 4: Stay out of my Business Rule 5: Don’t ever be seen in public with another man. Rule 6: Don’t touch me. Rule 7: Don’t ever enter my room You know the things about Contract Marriage, they come with rules right? Rules are meant to be broken, but that's just my thoughts. My 6’5 husband, the epitome of irresistible allure and captivating mystery prefers I follow his rules while he's all busy. But the thing is, we both needed this marriage so why should it be His rules? I mean I know I got my own rules and I'll be damn if he doesn't follow them just as I do his. Even I know how to dress up and look good. Now he's thrown into the corner with my rules, it's a battle he intends on winning but tough shit cause so do I. But those are not the only rules that should not be broken, is it? The rules of the heart cannot be obey and Dammit if he doesn't make me swoon but this is our Marriage, Our rules.