johnson090

Wanting more Abby💕 My tits sway back and forth, and I thank God I have small ones, or they’d be damn near slapping me in the face. The guy behind me—I can’t remember his name at the moment—grunts his way through pounding into my pussy. His hands dig into my hips and sweat drips onto my back. My walls clench around his hard cock, but it still isn’t enough. I need more. My stomach starts cramping and sweat—not from the sex itself, but from the insistent need for release—forms on my brow. Fisting the sheets in my hands, I ram my hips back to meet his relentless thrusts. Looking over my shoulder, I growl, “Either fuck me harder or get the hell out so I can find someone to do it for me.” The hands on my hips tighten, and I know it’ll leave a mark later. I don’t care. I just need this guy to get the job done before the pain takes over. “Fuck, babe,” he groans. “I fuck you any harder, I’ll plow you into the mattress.” “Just do it,” I hiss. “Jesus,” he grunts, but does as he’s told and slams his hip bones into my ass as he pumps into me forcefully. I straighten my arms when his thrusts push my body forward. A blissful sigh leaves my lips, followed by a low moan when he finally hits the spot I need him to. My fingers start to tingle from lack of circulation, so I unwrap them from the sheet. My body starts to quiver with the first ripple of my orgasm. I close my eyes, and tiny sparks of light shoot behind my lids as the cramps in my stomach turn to flutters of delight. I lower my arms and lay my head against the cool sheets as immense pleasure takes over my body. The guy behind me still pounds away, jerking my hips back to him. I pay him no mind, content to just lay here and let him have at it. I got what I needed from him, it’s only fair that he reaches his peak as well. Several minutes pass before he grunts and stiffens behind me. He releases my hips, and I immediately drop to the bed. He falls down beside me with his arm thrown over his eyes, breathing heavily. Now that my brain is functioning properly again, his name comes back to me in a flash Matt. Matt was my lifesaver for the night. As appreciative as I am of him, I really need him to go now; I don’t like it when they linger. I may need sex from men on a daily basis to keep my sanity, but I don’t let them stay afterwards. I don’t do relationships. I know I’m a bitch—using men for sex and discarding them—but I have a damn good reason. I roll to my side and get out of bed. I bend with my ass facing Matt to pick up his clothes to toss at him. I lost my modesty a long time ago, and if it wasn’t for my job, or the fact I would get arrested for indecent exposure, I’d never wear clothes. It would make things so much easier when the need took hold. During the day I’m fine, but by the time evening rolls around, the urge grips me tight and leaves me in a near panicked state. I came so close to having an anxiety attack tonight. I thought I would have to call my friend, Nathan, to come rescue me. Luckily, Matt showed up and caught my eye at the perfect time. And here we are now, an hour later, with him still lying on my bed, and me standing with my hands on my hips, glaring at him. He didn’t take the hint when his clothes landed on his stomach, so it looks like I’m going to have to be blunter. I reach out with a foot and nudge his leg. “Hey, it’s time to go.” His arm moves, showing off sleepy, plain brown eyes. “Can’t you give a guy a minute to recover?” he mutters. “No. I need you to leave right now,” I tell him. I spy my panties on the floor and pick them up to slip up my hips. I’m exhausted, and want nothing more than to sleep. A niggle of guilt tries to worm its way in with how I’m treating this guy, but I push it back. I’ve learned the hard way over the years that in order to keep my inner emotions intact, I’d have to build a steel wall around myself. I hate being a bitch, but it’s the only way to protect myself. Only a handful of people know the real me. Matt grumbles as he drags himself from the bed. I ignore him and pull on a cami, sans bra. Using the hair tie from my wrist, I pull my thick blonde hair up into a ponytail as I wait for him to finish. I tap my fingers on the doorframe I’m leaning against, while he sits on my bed and pulls on his shoes. It’s normally the guys that are hell-bent on leaving as soon as they are done, but not this guy. He’s taking his sweet time, and it’s grating on my nerves. He finally stands and makes his way over to me. I’m just about to turn around and lead him to the door when he boxes me in by planting his hands on the doorframe on either side of me. “

My retirement was finally approved, and I was supposed to be sipping drinks on a sunny beach. Instead, a cold system voice forced me into a nightmare scenario: "Cursed Mates Who Want Me Dead." I woke up in a stinking cave, trapped in the body of a psychopathic tribal princess. The memories that flooded my brain made me sick. The original owner of this body had forcibly marked seven of the continent's most powerful beast-men and reduced them to tortured pets. She had ripped the shimmering scales off Jordi the Merfolk prince, gouged out a proud wolf-man's power crystal, and snapped an eagle-man's magnificent wings. Now, Jordi was a mutilated, terrified mess hiding in a corner. He was so traumatized that he tried to slit his own throat just to escape me. His sister was actively trying to assassinate me. To make matters worse, the system warned me that if I didn't heal these seven ticking time bombs, my soul would be erased. Yet the future timeline clearly showed that these men would eventually unite, burn my tribe to the ground, and dismember me alive. I was paying for a monster's sins. Every time I tried to show mercy, they thought it was a sick new torture method. Words were useless, and my very presence was a trigger. But I am a Tier-S operative, and I don't play the victim. I forced the system to unlock my powers and strapped on my tactical gear. "Stay here and don't starve." I left the trembling Merfolk behind and walked into the deadly primitive forest, heading straight for the powerful Oasis Tribe to take back his stolen scales by force.

I was just hiking in Yosemite, but I woke up in a primitive forest with two moons and giant, mutated beasts. Before I could even process the shock, I was attacked by a monstrous saber-toothed tiger, only to be saved by a massive silver wolf who suddenly transformed into a fiercely possessive, completely naked man named Caleb. He claimed me as his own and carried me to his sprawling beast-man tribe. But the moment we arrived, I became the target of vicious ridicule. Jana, the tribe's most fertile female, pointed at my unmarked skin and publicly humiliated me. "She has no mate marks! She's a barren waste, useless for breeding!" Hearing this, the hundreds of beast-men who had just been eyeing me with lust instantly stepped back in disgust. In this twisted, animalistic society, a female's worth was tied entirely to her ability to produce strong cubs. I stood there shivering, terrified and degraded, reduced to nothing but a defective piece of meat. I braced myself for the inevitable, waiting for Caleb to realize my worthlessness and throw me out to be torn apart by the wild. Instead, a terrifying, suffocating aura exploded from his body, bringing the entire tribe to their knees. He swatted the fertile female away in disgust, scooped me into his arms, and turned his back on the camp. "She is my only mate," he declared, his ice-blue eyes promising violence to anyone who dared to look at me.

I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat. A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt. The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men. I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser? It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot. I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness. "The crazy woman you knew before is dead." I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge.

Casey woke up with a throbbing skull in a glamorous dressing room, facing a public execution by an internet mob. Her wealthy family had thrown her away. Her hypocritical sister, Coralie, forced a holographic tablet into her hands, demanding she join a deadly survival reality show on a wasteland planet. "It's what Mommy wants. If you don't sign, you're dead to the Hendersons." The whole world wanted her dead. On the live broadcast, billions of viewers cursed her as a toxic stalker. The golden boy idol Kayson physically attacked her to defend Coralie's honor. Even the show's staff mocked her, deliberately leaving her with nothing but a torn, broken tent and a single bottle of water for the lethal alien wilderness. The universe was playing a cruel joke on her. She was framed as the villain of her sister's perfect story, banished to a wasteland where everyone expected her to cry, beg, and die on live television. But they didn't know she had already survived a decade in the ruins. Casey didn't shed a single tear. Instead, she invoked a hidden contract clause, demanding a full year on the planet instead of the standard month. "I'll survive for a year, and the planet becomes mine." She grabbed her broken tent, stepped onto the red alien dirt, and prepared to show the universe what a real predator looked like.

Being stimulated by three overly attractive vampires was the last thing I had ever imagined. "Oh Jasmine, this is a sight to behold," Archer murmured,landing kisses all along my inner thighs. Lucien broke the kiss, I could see the lust in his eyes. Micheal took the turn to kiss me once I caught my breath and Lucien's fingers moved to spread my labia only for me to feel the unexpected lick of Archer's tongue on my clit. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. "Feel it..." Lucien growled into my ear, biting my earlobe, "Feel it how we pleasure you, little mate." ****** My whole life I have known my identity as a human but everything changed once I took the job in the Kings' palace as their maid and their attention fell on me. Black Vale Dynasty was ruled by three powerful Vampire kings. Respected, Obeyed and feared they were the most dangerous predators on the earth. But when my life unknowingly gets entangled with theirs, soon the unimaginable happened—On the night of the full moon, I turned out to be their mate and this puts my whole existence under question. They did not want to leave me but a human couldn't be the destined mate of a vampire, let alone three. However, fate pulled the strangest game on me, linking my life to the eliminated Vaidel-Dynasty which was once ruled by the strongest vampire of all time before the rogue attack…that destroyed everything.

Betrayed by the two people she trusted most - her husband and her foster sister-turned-best friend - Lilith dies with regrets. But fate has other plans. Granted a second chance by a mysterious system, she wakes up in the past. This time... She won't be naive. This time, she'll rewrite her destiny. On the first day of her rebirth, she crosses paths with Dean: a disarmingly gorgeous, silver-haired man who proposes a fake engagement to help her. But the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to draw the line between real and pretend. With the past betrayal still fresh in her mind, Lilith must decide- Will she risk her heart again... or keep her eyes on the prize?

My career as a marketing strategist was unstoppable. Then Chloe Davis walked in, a new hire with a smile too bright and a chilling claim: "I'm a reborn person." She started "predicting" disasters-a major client product failure, a restaurant fire-events that strangely came true, catapulting her to prophet status. Suddenly, my data-driven expertise meant nothing. My promotion, the one I had earned, was given to Chloe. When I confided in my boyfriend and colleague, Mark, about resigning, he looked at me with cold eyes: "Mr. Thompson will think you' re a flight risk. That you' re bitter." The next day, as I prepared to quit, Mr. Thompson confronted me with fake emails, expertly crafted by Mark, showing me colluding with our biggest rival. My resignation was refused; instead, I was publicly demoted to administrative duties, stripped of my dignity. Mark, my supposed partner, stood by Chloe, a triumphant smirk on his face. The humiliation was a physical weight, pushing me to the brink. In my previous life, consumed by despair, I took my own life on the marble steps of the agency that had once been my dream. But then, my eyes snapped open. I was back in the conference room, listening to Chloe's chilling introduction: "I'm a reborn person." This time, I wasn't going to be a victim.

Three years after my supposed death, my CEO ex-husband, Ethan Hayes, served me with a legal notice. He claimed the kidney I had donated to his new fiancée, Olivia Reed, was defective. It was absurd because I was already a ghost, tethered to him, watching him demand my reappearance. To force me out of hiding, he publicly announced he was transferring twenty percent of his company shares to Olivia. When weeks passed with no response, his frustration turned to cold fury. He drove to my childhood home, convinced I was playing games. My sister, Chloe, devastated, told him I had died two years ago. Ethan scoffed, calling it another one of my "desperate plays for attention." He remembered freezing my credit cards and cutting me off for supposedly assaulting Olivia. He claimed he was willing to "forgive" me if I took "responsibility." My older brother, Liam, appeared, asserting the money Ethan gave our family was the price I paid. My spirit twisted, reliving the horror: I had only one kidney, a secret Olivia exploited, knowing a single kidney transplant was a death sentence for me. I suffered through the memory of the scalpel, the searing pain, the infection that took my life alone in a sterile room while Ethan celebrated with Olivia. My family screamed at him to check my death certificate, but Ethan, blind to the truth, said the hospital confirmed my discharge. He believed the lies Olivia paid them to tell. His rage escalated. He unleashed dogs on my family. My beloved Buster, old and frail, was torn apart before my spectral eyes. Ethan, oblivious to my presence, then watched a triumph on his face, chillingly stating that if I didn't show up in three days, my family would suffer the same fate. Later, Olivia, playing the victim, whispered that her body was rejecting "her" kidney, lamenting "Maybe… maybe if Ava would just give me her other one…" . Ethan, with casual cruelty, told her not to worry, promising an artificial kidney. My death certificate, anonymously delivered, forced him to confront a truth he refused to accept. He scoffed, claiming it was a fake. But as proof piled up, culminating in reports from the crematorium, his denial morphed into a terrifying obsession. He went to my grave, still convinced it was an elaborate deception. "Dig it up," he commanded. The urn was empty. Of course it was, my brother would never leave me there. He returned to my family' s house, where Olivia was waiting, portraying a frail victim. My spirit froze as I saw the charm I had prayed over and climbed a sacred mountain for, the charm meant to protect him, now around her neck. He smashed the empty urn, demanding, "Where is she?" Liam, grief-stricken, attacked him. A crystal photo frame toppled, revealing my smiling picture, staining it with Ethan' s blood as he frantically clutched the broken glass. He finally questioned, "Is she really dead?" Weeks later, the truth emerged; the million-dollar compensation for my kidney was never transferred to my account. It went to Olivia, and a portion was used to pay the doctors who performed my surgery. With that, and the revelation that I was born with only one kidney, Ethan had nowhere left to hide from the devastating facts. His mind fractured. He lashed out, cutting Olivia, believing he was retrieving "my" kidney. Mark, his assistant, struck him down to save Olivia. Ethan, committed to a psychiatric hospital, descended into madness, still hallucinating my presence. My spirit, tethered to him, watched his horrific unraveling. Months later, my brother Liam, in a dream, finally heard my silent plea: "You need to get my kidney back. The one Ethan has. My body isn' t complete. I can' t move on until it is." He found it under Ethan's mattress, preserved in formaldehyde: "My Beloved Ava" etched on the jar. Liam buried it at my grave, then, with Chloe, scattered my ashes over Golden Sands Beach, my favorite place. As my spirit lifted, finally free, the news came: Ethan had died from a brain hemorrhage. Liam, embodying my legacy, transformed Ethan's manor into the "Ava Miller Sanctuary" and "Ava Miller Free Counseling Center." This is my story of betrayal, sacrifice, and a final, bittersweet liberation.

My first life ended with the smell of cheap whiskey, a throbbing leg, and the bitter irony of my ex-wife' s golden boy getting the scholarship that should have been mine. I died alone, broke, and knowing I was a failure in the eyes of my kids and the woman I' d sacrificed everything for. Then, I woke up. The sun was hot on my face, the air thick with popcorn, and I was nineteen again, in my football uniform, standing on the side of the road. It was the homecoming parade, the exact moment my life had been destroyed. I saw Sabrina Johns, the town' s golden girl, laughing on the wobbly float. In my past life, I' d heroically saved her from that collapsing monstrosity, letting it crush my leg and shatter my future. That act of self-sacrifice led to a lifetime of misery, a marriage fueled by her guilt and my ruined dreams. She' d always despised me, painting me as a cripple who trapped her. To my dying breath, I thought saving her was the beginning of our tragic story. I never knew my future was already stolen, my dreams already dead, long before the float ever fell. Did my sacrifice even matter? What twisted game was this? This time, as the float lurched and the giant hornet head tilted, I didn't move forward. I stepped back. I was back, and this time, things would be different.

Elena died on the operating table, betrayed by her husband, her unborn child already gone. But death? Just her intermission. She woke up in a whole new world-a beastmen's world, where females are rarer than diamonds and the strongest males go mad without a woman's mark to calm them down. And her? Labelled the weakest female alive. An F-rank body with a joke of a status. But hidden inside? Unlimited mental power. Just as she's figuring out this mess, a system pops up with one hell of an offer: Complete the missions. Bond with assigned males. Save this world. Do all that, and you get a one-way ticket back home. for revenge. Sounds simple? Think again. A Wolf General, colder than a blizzard, who should have ended her-ended up letting her mark him. A Fox Prince, all charming smiles and secret schemes, who started playing games only to lose his own heart. A golden Dragon, sunshine-bright and fiercely possessive, who declares her his destined treasure. A shadowy Serpent, too patient and too dangerous, watching her every move from the dark. A Phoenix King, whose love burns so hot he'd reduce empires to cinders for her. They all need her mark. They all want her. And sharing? Not in their vocabulary. Too bad for them- She's not here for love stories. She's here to survive. To climb. To turn their legendary power into her own stepping stones. And one day. To go back and make her betrayers wish they were never born.