Tiptoe Table Legs Novels & Stories

For five years, I played the ghost in my own marriage. I pressed Julian Daniel’s pristine suits, matched his cufflinks, and sat by the window like a loyal dog, waiting for the "Ice King" CEO to look at me with something resembling desire. Instead, I received clinical kindness and a box containing a gold watch. Every anniversary, the exact same script. It was his way of checking a box - a tax he paid for a life he felt obligated to support. I sacrificed my career as a prima ballerina, shattering my legs to push him out of the path of a speeding car. He didn't marry a wife; he locked away a debt. The anniversary script burned to ash on our fifth year. Standing outside the bathroom door, I heard the raw, unbridled passion Julian had denied me for half a decade. He wasn't breathing my name into the steam. He was choking out the name of his high school heartbreak: Penelope. The betrayal didn't end in our bedroom. It followed me to a high-end restaurant where Julian hosted a private lunch. Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, I didn't find a husband willing to defend his wife. I found his childhood friend dragging his foot in a cruel, mocking circle, mimicking my limp to a room erupting in roars of laughter. Penelope doubled over in delight. And Julian? He sat at the head of the table, watching my humiliation with a look of pure, unbothered boredom. “I owe her,” his voice cut through the fading laughter, calm and tired. “I am just trying to pay back a debt.”

“Please…please…don’t….” My breathing heavy and loud, were I aggressively gripped on the table not wanting to let go. He was fucking inserting it, and hitting it in the right spot, I fucking enjoyed it when he fuck me in this position, bent fully on the table with him banging me from behind. “You fucking girl.” He slapped hard on my ass that it immediately had my pussy convulsing with squirt. None stop he was ruining me from that angle whereas I was trying to hush down my voice, after all we were in his office. How scandalous would it be if someone should find us like this, me half naked with my professors pants dropped to the ground, were his dick was connected to my pussy from behind. “Ahhh….Mr Grey” I choked on the moan, Christian had his hand on my neck pressing me harder on the table, I couldn’t even breathe with the amount of pleasure he was bloating me with. Yeah, I was fucking my professor, an aspiring nun was committing such a brutal sin in her professors office. He turned me into this sex animal who was at his beg and call. Did I enjoy it? Yeah I fucking loved it but it was soon going to get me ruined, sooner then I expected.

I finally recovered my sight. Just as I was about to tell my parents about it, a slip of paper on the table caught my attention. "Don't tell your parents you've recovered your sight."

A story where a maid fantasizes about her boss. Comes to work but can’t focus and sees only him. Then she gives him a hint on what she wants with a note on his table .then the whole scenario just excalates

"I am bound to punish you for breaking the rules," he said as he started undoing his tie. I swallowed, the thought of being punished by him terrified and excited me at the same time. I needed this. The heat pooled between my legs as I watched him undo his tie with one hand and his belt in the other. It was hot. He grabbed me by the neck, bending me over the table with my face down on the surface and my ass high up in the air. He caressed my soft flesh with his palm. "Count," he ordered, My brows furrowed in confusion, the haze of lust so heavy in my head that my brain failed to grasp his words. The first slap landed on my ass cheeks and I cried out. "Count," he barked. I whimpered but I nodded my head to his request. "One," I counted as the first slap came on my behind. I kept counting as he delivered blows to my now red ass. "Good girl," he murmured as he rubbed them gently, to take away the ache. I was moist and he could sense it. Dipping his finger into my pussy, he confirmed how wet I was for him. "Hmm," he hummed, embarrassment slammed into me with enough force. I barely knew this man and here I was letting him possess me. I liked it. I licked my lips in anticipation of what he wished to do, his lips touched the nape of my neck and I jumped. He licked the juncture of my neck, and the pulsating nerves there responded to his touch. "You taste so sweet," he murmured as he kissed his way down my neck. "T...thank you," I managed to get out. "Let me make you mine," he says,

Dark Mafia Scene “Who laid a hand on you? Dallion's voice was low, cold, and dangerous. His dark gaze bore into her, daring her to stay silent. When she didn’t respond, the tension snapped like a whip, his voice booming through the room, “Who?” The butler, standing rigid against the wall, swallowed hard before stammering out the words, “It... it was Mr. Rivers, sir.” The atmosphere turned deadly as Dallion's jaw clenched, fury igniting in his eyes. “Bring him to me.” The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “N-now, sir? It’s... it’s late.” Dallion's hand, once braced against the wall near her head, slowly curled into a fist. His eyes never left her face, his possessiveness was palpable. Without looking at the butler, his voice dropped to a lethal calm, “Do you need a better time? Or shall I break your legs to teach you urgency?” The butler didn’t need any more encouragement. He fled the room, returning twenty minutes later with a trembling Mr. Rivers. “Dallion, my friend, what’s all this about?” Rivers began, his voice casual as if nothing was amiss. But Dallion wasn't’t here for pleasantries. His eyes slid to the knife stabbed into the apple on the table, and in one fluid motion, he yanked it free, the blade glinting in the dim light. Without a word, Dallion grabbed Rivers outstretched hand, slamming it onto the table. The sharp scream that followed echoed in the room as Dallion, with one swift movement, sliced through the man’s fingers. Blood splattered across the polished wood as Rivers screamed in agony, clutching his mutilated hand. “No one touches what belongs to me,” Dallion's voice was eerily calm, his expression devoid of any sympathy.

Getting a good job that pays is kind of difficult and an offer came to her to commit a crime when she is no killer but for the money, she had no choice. She never planned to love but planned to be the billionaire hit woman, what happens when the table turns?

"Mr. Hamilton, do you have something long and hard? Can I borrow it?" On a spring outing with my daughter, Maddison Hamilton, her best friend, Braelynn Hudson, suddenly asked me that question with a blush. She sat facing me on the grass, her legs spread wide. "The bugs in the grass must've crawled into my skirt. It's driving me crazy... Mr. Hamilton, do you have a stick? Can you scratch it for me?" Looking at her alluring body and snow-white legs, I felt the heat boiling within me. Taking advantage of Maddison's inattention, I quickly pulled down my pants. "What's so comfortable about a stick? I have something better here."

Draven’s lips left mine to trail down, from my jaw to my bosoms, kissing and sucking. Damien’s arms were still wrapped around me, immense pleasure and uncanny hunger coursing through me as he pressed his hard bulge against my ass, his towel, the only barrier between us. Suddenly, I whimpered, throwing my head back when I felt someone part my legs underneath before sliding my panty to one side and kissing me there. “No... Darius...” My voice wavered and trembled as I tried to close my legs, but Damien held it open from behind and bit my ear lobe softly, chuckling as I whimpered so hard to the point of sobbing. I had never felt such indescribable pleasure before, it was all so overwhelming. "Leave your legs open." He whispered, biting my ear softly *** Anastasia, a victim of abuse, is sold to the Lycan Devil Triplets in a desperate turn of events. They offer her freedom in exchange for bearing their child. As their relationship deepens, Anastasia discovers her own extraordinary powers and faces challenges from jealous concubines and dangerous foes. Together, they unravel the truth about her mother's captivity and unite against their enemies, forging a path to love and redemption.

"Bianca, be a good girl and spread those legs of yours. Tonight, you belong to us." During the holidays, my husband, Ernest Bowman, has lost a card game against his three childhood friends, so he decides to pay off the debt by offering me to the men. The village men have never seen a city woman as dainty and delicate as me. That's why they get turned on right away. I struggle against them violently, but I can't stop them from spreading my legs forcibly. Thanks to the strong sensations overwhelming me, I can't help but get aroused by their actions, causing my panties to get soaked. "Settle down! Slutty women like you are meant to pleasure us!" After that, someone tears my soaked panties into shreds.