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In The Servants, Emily White turns the lens toward the quiet storms hidden behind ordinary façades, offering a collection where longing hums beneath everyday routines and fantasies bloom with the intensity of hand-inked manga art. These stories explore contrast—youth and age, routine and desire, restraint and imagination—interwoven with melancholy, humor, and the raw ache of wanting more. The title story follows Giovanni, a middle-aged man whose unglamorous life is disrupted by the arrival of elegant new neighbors: a magnetic couple whose beauty and confidence ignite in him a blend of admiration and restlessness. “She walked past like a vision,” the excerpt recalls, “her movements so fluid, so luminous, that even the street seemed to hold its breath.” As Giovanni drifts deeper into daydreams—wild, cinematic, unreal—his fantasies become a mirror reflecting all he has buried over the years: regrets, desires, and the fragile hope of rediscovery. In this evocative collection, Emily White asks: What if the fantasies we create become the only place where we feel truly alive?
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Seitenzahl: 56
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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The Servants
Sexy Stories for Adults with Erotic Manga Images
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Emily White
Imprint
© 2025 Emily White
Printing and distribution on behalf of the author:
tredition GmbH, Heinz-Beusen-Stieg 5, 22926 Ahrensburg, Germany.
The work, including its parts, is protected by copyright. The author is responsible for its contents. Any use without the author's permission is prohibited. Publication and distribution are by order of the author, who can be contacted at the following address: Emily White, Schwedter Allee 23, 16303 Brandenburg, Germany.
Contact address according to the European Product Safety Regulation: [email protected]
Table of Contents
Imprint
Table of Contents
Introduction
The Servants
1
2
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.
The Servants
1
I noticed them immediately, from the very day they moved into that fucking mega villa at the end of our street. It had golden gates and a garden that looked like something out of a magazine for rich people.
We are a couple in our fifties, the kind that doesn't turn anyone's head.
I, Giovanni, am an office worker with thinning hair and a belly that reminds me of every beer I've had too many of. I have dirty dreams that I've never confessed. Fuck, I spend my days fantasizing about huge tits suffocating me and a warm mouth sucking my cock until I beg for more. But in real life, I settle for a handjob in the shower.
Anna, my better half, is petite, with wavy hair and a ladylike elegance that still makes my heart beat faster. She seems like the classic little wife who gets turned on by a kiss on the neck and a romantic caress. Or so I thought. But over the years, our bed has become a desert. It is held together by routine, laughter, and a few regrets about the sex we never had.
They, Sophie and Jean, were from another planet. In their forties, maybe younger, with that fucking French air that makes you feel like a poor asshole. Very fashionable, luxury cars. He always wore tailored suits, with a smirk that challenged you to look him in the eye.
She was a fucking panther with stiletto heels and curves that made you want to kneel down and lick her feet. She had a smile that promised trouble and a walk that hypnotized your dick.
Apparently, they were party animals. Practically every weekend, bass notes came from their villa, shaking the windows until late at night.
She was the one who made my dick hard. Sophie: tall, blonde, long hair, always elegant but provocative. She had two huge tits that defied gravity. Fake, of course, but so well done that they blended harmoniously into that perfect, curvy body, despite their unrealistic size.
It wasn't just her body that bewitched me. It was the way she moved, as if the world belonged to her. She made me feel small, a nobody fantasizing about a goddess. "You know that love at first sight, the kind that makes you lose your head over a woman at first glance? Well, I had 'love at first cock,'" I thought.
Every time Sophie walked past the house, with that firm ass swaying like a slut in heat in tight leggings, her huge tits bounced with every step. They looked like they were about to rip her shirt off. When she bent over to pick up her dog's shit, my cock would stand up like a rod and squirt on its own, without needing a wank. It was as if my glans was screaming, "That pussy was born to make me explode!"
Sophie was very aloof, haughty, reserved. She seemed kind, but she didn't make eye contact or say hello to anyone. Her inaccessibility made her even more desirable. Sometimes, looking at her, I wondered how I ended up in this life. I used to dream of being an artist, of traveling, but then came work, bills, the mortgage.
Anna was my safe haven. But Sophie... she was the stormy sea I never had the courage to sail. So, I took refuge in my fantasies. I needed something to do to empty my scrotum!
I often imagined meeting her while I was taking out the trash and she was walking her dog.
Like in the best vintage porn movies, for no apparent reason, I found her clinging to my cock. She jerked me off and sucked me with that tiny mouth. But every time in a different, surprising way. Enough to make me cum in a few seconds.
My favorite fantasy, however, was that we would meet by chance while jogging. At the sight of those huge but perfect tits bouncing with every step, as if moving in slow motion, I would linger to watch them.
I would stumble and fall awkwardly to the ground. She, like a good sexy nurse, would promptly intervene to help me. She would straddle me, but instead of giving me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, she would start jerking me off and pumping me: slowly at first, then, seeing that I wasn't reacting, with increasing fervor and depth. No reaction.
Then she would scream, "We're losing him!" But instead of giving me CPR, she would rip off part of her pants. She would spit on her hand and rub it on her exposed pussy to lubricate it. Then she would slip my cock inside without hesitation, banging herself to the rhythm of "one thousand, one thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three, one thousand four, one thousand five..."
