Bob Semple Tank Novels & Stories

WARNING!!! 18+ This book contains explicitly steamy scenes. Read only if you're in for a wild pulsing ride. "Fuck…" He hissed, flexing his muscles against the tied ropes. I purred at the sight of them, at the sight of him, struggling. "Want me to take them off?" I teased, reaching for the straps of my tank top, pulling them tautly against my nipples. He growled, eyes golden and wild as he bared his fangs. "Yes," "Yes what?" I snapped, bringing down the whip on his arm and he groaned hoarsely. So deliciously. "Yes Luna," ***** She is Luna. Wife to the Alpha. An Angel to the pack but a ruthless demon in bed. He is just a guard: A tall, deliciously muscular guard that makes her wetter than Niagara and her true mate. She knows she should reject him. She knows nothing good can come out of it. But Genevieve craves the forbidden. And Thorn cannot resist. There are dark secrets however hiding behind every stolen kiss and escapades. A dying flower, a broken child and a sinister mind in the dark playing the strings. The forbidden flames brewing between Genevieve and Thorn threatens to burn them both but what the Luna wants, She gets.

One day, billions woke up on an endless highway. One vehicle each. One life each. No exits. Others got scooters, bicycles, or tractors. Jake Maddox got a beat-up motorhome. Level-one zombies have 20 strength. Humans have 5. And Cthulhu monsters lurk in the mist. This isn't a game—it's a slaughter. But Jake has a cheat: Gold Mods. He glances at his status screen and smirks. "Not enough stats? Gold mods to the rescue." [Fuel Tank] + [Infinite] = unlimited fuel. Floor it and leave everyone choking on dust. [Tires] + [Indestructible] = unbreakable, unshakable, unstoppable. No attack gets through. [Motorhome] + [Spatial Folding] = a mobile fortress that fits it all — storage, pool, villa, armory, and more. [Windows] + [One-Way Transparent] = armored steel to the outside, panoramic views from within. Total safety, zero claustrophobia. While others shiver and barter their souls for half a bottle of gas, Jake sits in his climate-controlled motorhome, eating a steaming-hot chicken pie, watching a Cthulhu boss try to break in. His calm response? "That tentacle would taste pretty good grilled." … From Lv.1 Beater Motorhome to Lv.100 Ark of the Old Ages—as long as Jake can imagine it, no mod is off the table. Gold mods. Show me your limits.

When the flood hit, my husband, Patrick Holmes, who was part of the rescue team, stood between me and his first love, Victoria Clarke, torn with hesitation written all over his face. Without thinking twice, I shoved the only lifebuoy into Victoria's arms. In my previous life, Patrick had handed the lifebuoy to me instead and stayed behind with Victoria, choosing to die alongside her. Just before they both drowned, rescuers arrived in the nick of time and pulled him out, but Victoria didn't make it—she drowned that day. After that, he devoted himself completely to me, taking care of me in every moment of our daily lives. I had thought that the disaster made him cherish me more, but I was wrong—so terribly wrong. While I was hospitalized, Patrick unplugged my oxygen tank himself. He hissed, "If you hadn't insisted on going home to rest that day, I wouldn't have been torn on who to save, and she wouldn't have died. Now, you'll atone to her in the afterlife." I struggled helplessly as my vision blurred and death crept in. Then, everything went dark. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day the flood began.

She’s the Editor-in-Chief. He’s the CEO who destroyed her heart. A year ago, August Wilmer walked out on Remy in the pouring rain, leaving her with nothing but devastation and a promise to herself: never again. Now, Remy is the successful Editor-in-Chief at the Daily Chronicles, a master of control. But her meticulously built world crashes when August returns as the company’s new CEO—and he’s engaged to a powerful heiress. Enter Cory, August’s charming stepbrother, who has patiently pursued Remy since the day August left. When the competition between the two brothers reaches a boiling point, Cory proposes a shocking solution to help Remy save face and protect her heart: a fake engagement, complete with a binding contract. Their sudden, high-profile 'relationship' successfully throws August into a jealous tailspin. But in the shark tank of the corporate world, Remy's integrity is questioned, forcing her to ask if her career—and her heart—can survive the dangerous game she’s playing. As the fake relationship starts to feel dangerously real, the Wilmer family’s secrets begin to surface. Remy realizes the mysterious circumstances of August’s departure, Cory’s devotion, and even her own job, are all tied to a painful, decades-old corporate conspiracy. To survive this war, Remy must choose between the brother who seeks to prove his love and the one who is fighting to reclaim her—before a legally binding contract seals her fate forever.

On the day there was an assassination attempt on the Don, my husband, the head of security for the Russo family, was busy coaxing his mistress, who had lost her temper and left. I did not call him for help but used my body as a shield to protect the Don while I was eight months pregnant. In my past life, my husband left his mistress behind and came back with his team of bodyguards to save the Don after I called him for help on the phone. My husband ended up saving the Don and was rewarded by the family with a promotion, but his mistress was killed in the process. Although my husband said nothing about it, he threw me into the shark tank on the day I was in labor. I was covered in blood when I looked at him for an answer. However, all he did was stare coldly at me. "Why did you have to get me to save the Don when he had so many other bodyguards to protect him? You forced me to come back because you're a materialistic woman who only wants fame and fortune! If it weren't for your phone call, Aurora wouldn't have died! You must pay for everything she suffered!" I ended up being torn apart by sharks, and even the baby inside my belly was not spared. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the assassination attempt on the Don.

I, Cassandra Channing, don't stop my fiance, Hades Emerson, from rushing into the flames to save his non-biological niece, Olivia Emerson, this time. Instead, I watch as the fire swallows him whole. In my past life, a fire broke out at the hotel on our wedding day. Hades and I escaped in time, but Olivia was trapped inside. Seeing the flames grow bigger, I did everything I could to stop him from charging in to save her. When the fire was finally extinguished, Olivia was dead. Hades claimed he didn't blame me for the incident, and purchased diving tickets for me and our son on our third wedding anniversary. When we were 300 feet below sea level, he ripped out our oxygen tank and snarled, "You're the reason I couldn't save Olivia back then. Now, a life for a life." Crying, I begged him to understand that our son is innocent, but he swam away without looking back. In the end, my son and I suffocated to death. After dying, I learned that Hades had always been in love with Olivia. He hated me for stopping him from saving her. He blamed me for causing him to lose the love of his life. I am back on the day of the fire when I open my eyes again.

Over the Fourth of July weekend, I took my boyfriend's sister to his flashy new influencer hub. Fresh off brain surgery, Benedetta Griffin needed a break from her recovery, and I hoped the trip would lift her spirits. In the hub, a streamer was hawking a face cream like a carnival barker. "Listen, fam! The boss lady is slashing prices. Get this $3,800 cream for just $398 today!" Benedetta tugged my sleeve. "That cream is bad news." She'd interned at the FDA last summer and could spot a scam from a mile away. "It's packed with steroids. Long-term use will ruin your skin." Driven by her sense of justice, she marched up to the streamer. "You can't sell this unlicensed junk. The steroids exceed legal limits. Pull it from the shelves." Morgan Lamb froze, but then her fake smile twisted into a scowl. "Who the hell are you to trash my product?" Benedetta didn't back down. "You're scamming people, and you know it." Morgan planted her hands on her hips. "I'm the boss lady here. How dare you slander my brand? Nobody leaves until you cough up $500,000 for damages." "Boss lady?" My stomach churned. My boyfriend's sudden venture into the streaming industry now made sense. He was sinking money into this hub to bankroll his lover. I fumbled for my phone to call him, but Morgan was faster. "Babe, get to the hub. Two haters crashed the party, trying to tank our business."

18 Explicit raw content. ️ WARNING : this is raw, shameless porn in written form, read at your own risk . This collection contains steamy, dirty raw stories with forbidden kinky desires including rough sex, gay sex, milfs sex, teen sex, forbidden taboo relationships. ****. He begins thrusting in and out roughly, faster as the bed creaks and the head board hits the wall. I felt my br**sts bounce at his movement. “Fuck, you're so tight baby” he growls “unghhh,... Unghhh…” I kept moaning as he kept going. “Kelvin,... Kelvin…” “Yes, cindy, let me hear you scream my name” I felt his c**k pulse inside me, as I clenched him tightly. We both c*m together, breathless and gasping for breath. Just when I thought we were done, he immediately lifts my legs up so both my knees are by the side of my head, and Melvin quickly holds them in place. “You have no idea cindy, how hard I get when I see you walking around the house dressed in nothing but your f**king tank tops and mini skirts that barely even cover up your a*s cheeks when you bend a little. Now, you f**king belong to us, to do as we f**king please.” My p**sy is wide open and glistening up in the air. “Mmmnnn, see how swollen those pink lips are, you love being f**ked by your step brothers don't you??.”

When my wife, Emilia Sinclair, tortures me for the 98th time just to appease Wyatt Mercer, my love for her officially dies. That's when I decide to be with her best friend, Celia Ashford, who has been pursuing me for quite some time. After spending a wonderful night with Celia, she agrees to help me fake my death so that I can receive a brand new identity and marry her in an overseas country. So, I ingest the drug that can fake my death, only to wake up in the casket in advance. I can't move an inch no matter how hard I try. That's when I overhear Celia speaking with a subordinate outside the casket. "Ms. Ashford, you first told Emilia to torture Elliot, then you pretended to become his salvation. Now that you've completely earned his trust, why are you still arranging for his burial after faking his death?" "Only by doing this will the Mercers fully believe that Elliot is truly dead. That way, Wyatt can secure his position as the heir even more. No one will ever bring up the fact that he's a bastard child." The subordinate hesitates for a moment before asking, "Isn't leaving Elliot in the casket for one week a little too long? After all, we're only digging him up on the seventh day after you hold your wedding with Wyatt." "The drug can last for five days. I've already had someone place food, water, and an oxygen tank inside the casket. There's no way Elliot will die."

By the tenth engagement party, Samantha Moore stood me up again. I called her to ask what happened. What I didn't realize was that my phone was still connected to the banquet hall speakers. A second later, the entire room went dead silent. Soft, breathless moans spilled through the sound system. Then Samantha's voice came on, shaky and uneven. "Caleb... my department planned a team hike today. We're almost at the top. About the engagement party... let's just do it another time. I have to go." She hung up. For a moment, nobody moved. Then the room erupted into chaos. Gasps, whispers, and a few harsh laughs filled the banquet hall. Some people did not even bother hiding their amusement. Even the servers were glancing at me as if I were nothing more than a pathetic joke. I had proposed to Samantha ninety-nine times before she finally said yes, and yet she had never once shown up to our engagement party—not once. I stood there quietly, took the engagement ring from my pocket, and dropped it into the fish tank beside the stage. After seven years of waiting, forgiving, and making excuses for her, I finally understood the truth. I had mistaken my patience for love, and she had mistaken my love for permission to hurt me. I used to believe that if I loved her enough, she would eventually choose me. Instead, every time I lowered myself for her, she only pushed the line further. This was the tenth time she had humiliated me in front of everyone, and it would be the last. From that day on, she was no longer part of my future.