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Indulge in an Unforgettable Journey of Passion and Temptation with Emily White's Erotic Masterpiece! Step into a captivating world where seduction knows no bounds in Emily White's latest collection of scintillating erotic stories, enriched with enchanting hentai illustrations. Immerse yourself in a universe where each word is a whispered promise, and every brushstroke is a visual enchantment that brings fantasies to life in pure hentai style. This collection is a daring invitation to explore the uncharted depths of desire, where pleasure unfolds with audacious strokes and details that will quicken your heartbeat. The carefully crafted hentai illustrations serve as sensuous portals, transporting you into dimensions where every hidden fantasy finds unabashed expression. What to Expect: - A Fusion of Literary Mastery and Sensual Artistry - Explicit and Alluring Hentai Illustrations - Stories That Explore the Boundaries of Lust and Fantasy - A Whirlwind of Seduction and Temptation This isn't just a collection; it's your exclusive ticket to a dimension of hentai eros, meticulously narrated and ardently illustrated by Emily White. Lift the cover and prepare for an intense experience fueled by the flame of passion. Caution: This Collection is Not for the Faint of Heart. Are You Ready to Cross the Threshold?
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Seitenzahl: 123
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Pampering Program
Sexy Erotic Stories for Adults Illustrated with Hentai Pictures
___________________
Emily White
Copyright
Copyright © 2024 by Emily White
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.
Printing and distribution: Heinz-Beusen-Stieg 5 22926 Ahrensburg, Germany
Table of Contents
Copyright
Table of Contents
Introduction
PAMPERING PROGRAM
TENDENCES
TEN HOURS FLIGHT TIME
Thank You!
Introduction
Welcome to a captivating journey where my enthralling stories seamlessly intertwine with enchanting illustrations that redefine the very essence of desire in the world of hentai erotica.
Within the secret pages of these forbidden tales, I invite you to immerse yourself in a fiery universe of unrestrained passion. Every word is a whispered moan, and each illustration is a visual embrace that transforms the realms of fantasy into tangible reality.
This collection is not for the faint of heart. It's a bold manifesto, an invitation urging you to delve into the dark depths of lust, where pleasure is painted with audacious strokes and details that promise to quicken the rhythm of your heart. The illustrations are provocative gateways, guiding you into sensual dimensions where every hidden desire finds its expression without remorse.
Are you ready to plunge into a whirlwind of seduction and temptation, where the pages themselves transform into a stage for your most secret fantasies? Allow yourself to be carried away into a realm where sin transforms into art, and art seamlessly merges harmoniously with the ecstasy of desire.
Lift the cover and prepare for an experience ignited by the flame of passion. This is not just another collection; it's your exclusive ticket to the boldest manifestations of anime eros, written masterfully by me, Emily White.
PAMPERING PROGRAM
She is playing with me. Emotionally and at the moment she is also playing with my cock.
I put up with it. I don't know if it's because of neglect, interest, or because I feel invulnerable. Not only does my head like it, slowly my penis begins to point like an arrow toward his face.
It also gives me a sense of liking the situation.
As he pulls back the foreskin with his fingers, a feeling of well-being rises from my feet upward into my stomach area. The muscles in my buttocks tense. A light, joyful humming or growling escapes her. She opens her smiling mouth and begins to suck. To keep from falling, I have to close my eyes. I touch the shoulders of the woman who just spoiled me and enjoy.
She has long brown hair and is normally just under 5'7" tall, but she is currently on her knees. There is a dull sound and when I open my eyes my cock has largely disappeared into her oral opening. Yes, it escapes me. I press the head with the long brown hair against my erection. Then I pull it back in. She kneads my testicles. I put my head back and enjoy the pampering a little longer.
Finally I tell her I want to fuck her, I pull her up by her arms, kiss her and she slides onto the bed. Her fingers play with her pussy and she bends her legs. I watch her movements with my fingers. Waves of excitement rise in my head. I quickly tear off the condom packet and pull it up. She's all wet, I notice as I penetrate her and the juice makes its way into my pubic hair. My sex is not a Porsche - more like a tractor-trailer. And so I carefully drive back and forth inside her, like a novice parking in and out of a tight garage. After a dozen of these movements, she becomes hard to control. Her pelvis makes gentle circular movements. The repeated ohh's show me how my lady is doing. She too is approaching the climax of the evening.
This time I bury my penis as deeply as possible in her vagina. Like a craftsman, I try to hit the nail unerringly deep with well-aimed hammer blows. Her head lies on a soft pillow. Her breasts jiggle with the momentum of our collisions. We both moan softly -- me a little louder than her. I hope I'm not being too hard on her, but she would say something, I suppose. I don't want to distract her or turn her off. I'm interested in what's going through her mind at that moment. Is she thinking about me? Are you satisfied with the coitus? I am. It's exhausting. It must be.
I add a hand and stimulate her by rubbing her clit. She appreciates this with a sound of pleasure. I want to cum: Now I play the parking game faster, more aggressively. We shake each other and move even closer to each other. I love her. Soon we're lying in bed, still sweaty, next to each other, caressing each other, I think. In the heat of intercourse, I move too far and my member slides out of my cunt.
My friend hasn't lost his fighting spirit, however, and I propose again. As I do, I hear a distinct groan from him. It takes me a while to pace my movements. As soon as I succeed, I am taken out again by her wild movements, but her orgasm is worth it. We move very slowly now. My pubic hair is soaked in her juice and when I'm not careful, I lose control and ejaculate wildly. He comes without warning, but not unpleasantly. Shortly after my love. We lie together for a while, then I give her a kiss and leave her.
Making my way through the night.
TENDENCES
Even though we haven't stepped foot in front of the altar, I call Marko my husband. I think ten years of living together, raising our daughter together and going through ups and downs gives me the right to call him "my husband". I love him and I know he loves me. And because he does, what I have done to him is truly unforgivable. I didn't just do it to him, I did it to us. Maybe Sonja is right when she says that Marko is not completely innocent. But he didn't cheat, I did. Maybe she's right when she says, "Katrin, let it go. Put a hook under it and move on." But I can't forget. I don't want to forget. I could call it fate. Or blame it on someone else. Or I could blame it on the fact that Marko sleeps on the couch most of the time, while I procure an existence alone in bed, because otherwise his snoring keeps me up all night. I could blame so many people.
***
It was a beautiful, bright day. Women strolled through the city in light, colorful dresses. Men in street cafes, thoughtfully sipping a cappuccino, enjoyed short skirts and airy blouses. Children, with oversized ice cream cones and drooling mouths, enjoyed the warm weather. And me, in the middle of it all. I sat on the edge of a fountain. My feet plowed through the soothing humidity as I watched my daughter cool off in the water. With the flat of my hand, I splashed a few drops of water in Marie's direction. It hit her bare thigh, which she acknowledged with a squeal. The eyes of happy children. The eyes of happy mothers.
I was surprised when someone put a hand on my shoulder and said my name. Amazed at who was addressing me, I jumped to my feet too quickly and came to stand too close to the man. The tip of my nose almost touched his chest. A breast I would have loved to caress and kiss in a previous life. For a moment I could smell his fresh aftershave. The same scent I smeared on my pillow so that he would be near me in my dreams. Another life. Another time. Today I'm embarrassed by that closeness. And a step back would have freed me had the fountain not been in the way.
Eventually we sat down on the narrow circular wall to exchange news. There was a lot to talk about, which wasn't surprising because the last time we met was over a decade ago and the last day I was working at my former company.
Later we changed the hard seats to chairs stuffed with coffee and it was here that I learned that Norman was now working in the management of the nursing home I had left. Still later, it was already evening, the daughter was in bed, it was decided that I would start over in that very home. Under better conditions, with better working conditions, a shorter commute, and a boss that I had once, at another time, in another life, fallen madly in love with.
In person, Norman didn't show up at our house until two days later, it was a Friday. In the pasta was the work contract, ready to be signed, which we then celebrated at a small pub. The alcohol level of the three of us demanded that we never use a car again. Norman slept on our couch while I slept with Marko. The beginning of a close friendship.
Six weeks later was my first day of work at the old place. I sat across from my boss and felt even smaller than usual. I'm sure it wasn't just because I was short, but also because of Norman's size. Another four weeks flew by and I was sure I had made the right decision to change employers. My ward was quiet because most of the seniors could still take care of themselves. I got along well with the nursing staff, both male and female. They had even accepted someone from the outside to be their deputy ward manager. I also got along very well with Norman. My initial concerns that my stomach would tingle again were unfounded. We had a very friendly but professional relationship.
Until that Sunday night that shook my perfect world. Marko and I had put our daughter to bed together. Now we had one hour of intimacy left until his work colleague came to pick her up. Once again he had to disappear from our lives for a fortnight. Marie would miss him. I would miss her. But that's what her job entailed. And it wasn't always the case that she would leave me on the weekends. Most of the time she worked on site, in the factory.
I wanted to spend this last hour with a little tenderness. I quickly disappeared into the bathroom, fixed my hair, applied a bewitching perfume, and unbuttoned my blouse enough to give Marko a clear view of my cleavage. One look in the full-length mirror told me I looked okay, but still not quite sinful enough. My wine red blouse was beautiful, my black hair fell seductively over my shoulders. My breasts were worth a look for any man and my butt wasn't bad either. But that wasn't enough for my husband. I wanted to be pure sin. Without further ado, I removed my pants and stockings. Now the blouse barely covered my butt. I was ready for my sweetie.
I slipped past my daughter's open door and stood in the living room, one foot pressed lasciviously against the doorframe. Marko had made himself comfortable on the couch in front of the television. His sex goddess smiled seductively at him. With swaying hips and a "Hello" on my lips, I walked toward him. I took my time emphatically for the few feet. Until finally only the coffee table stood between our bodies. Like a cat, on all fours, I walked up to Marko. He had a good view of what awaited him. What was to be his. His alone. I rolled onto my back. My head was on his lap.
I slowly ran my hands down my body, starting at my hips. Over my belly, which unfortunately was no longer as firm and flat as it had been before giving birth. To my breasts, those two mounds of voluptuous flesh that I loved to cuddle. Through the fabric of my blouse and red bra I felt my nipples rise. I lightly massaged my breasts. I circled my nipples with my thumbs before my hands moved to his. I ran his hands over my face. I sucked a finger into my mouth and placed my other hand on my breasts. Without much ado, he grabbed my cleavage and pushed his fingers into my bra. He squeezed and kneaded my breasts, not exactly sensitively. In fact, he did it like he always did. So what should I complain about? Sliding a little on the table, I released his cock from his pants. On my face I rubbed his proud midsection. The tip of my tongue caressed his glans.
With both hands he had grabbed my breasts while sinking his cock between my lips. Marko loves to fuck my mouth by standing over me, grabbing my breasts hard. And sometimes I loved his wildness too. But not that day and let him have it after all. Clinging to the table, I let him fuck between my lips. I am his sex goddess. His wife, who must not forget when we are away for two weeks. But soon I felt I would fail if I didn't put a stop to it. I broke free from his grasp and pushed him back onto the couch. I stood wide-legged on top of him. Slowly, button by button, I opened my blouse. Marko would have to calm down a bit before I took him inside. His hands greedily grabbed my butt and pulled my abdomen toward his face. If I hadn't been leaning against the wall with one hand at that moment, I would have banged my head against it.
Loudly he breathed in my scent of sex. His tongue fumbled in my slit. He hadn't even bothered to free me from my panties. Then everything happened very quickly. Marko dragged me onto his lap and in the next moment all his glory was inside me. With violence, which probably wasn't violent enough for him, because soon I found myself lying on my back on the table, he pushed his cock into my cave. I wished I had taken off his clothes and mine. We would have felt our bare skin on each other. But there was no time for that. My legs pressed in front of his chest, my pelvis stretched toward him, he pushed himself to orgasm. Instead of cooling my hot plum with his seed, he preferred to squirt all over my legs and the table.
Hoping for a second helping, I tried to sharpen Marko's fighting sword once more. But no matter how hard I tried, no matter how skillfully I stimulated it with my mouth and hand, Marko's powder was exhausted. So I had failed and his fingers or mouth did nothing to change that.
