Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Devils Temptation; Erotic Short Stories : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

When she arrived at the office, the main office receptionist pointed Juliette towards Louis’ closed door. On the other side was a loud, angry man. Juliette knew this voice. Something had gone wrong this morning and now he was burning off the rage across the day. Everyone around the office scurried about with their head down. Louis in a bad mood had a reputation for being unpredictably demanding. A contract that needed to be ready next week could suddenly become necessary right now. A client proposal that was in progress could be ripped to shreds, as he demanded an entirely new platform concept. Juliette had heard these horror stories from the previous receptionist. As she got closer to the door, she heard a thud as if he had thrown his shoe at the wall. He threw things, but most often his shoes, she’d learned. She bit her lip at the thought that at least it wasn’t an employee’s head. In the brief silence that followed the thud, she slowly opened the door to his office. He was still o

Juliette got home at five o’clock. She’d gone to the farmer’s market, picked up the meat, and dropped everything off at Louis’ apartment. She’d walked into the kitchen and gotten dizzy remembering his half-naked body this morning, knowing what she did now. She wondered how she was going to see him again. Just being in his apartment made her think about the way he had touched her. She found herself closing her eyes and holding her breath as she thought about his hands holding her breasts. They felt full and heavy. She touched herself briefly to calm the desire, but it only inflamed her more. If he were in front of her, she was confident that she would be utterly unable to speak coherently. He looked at her with such tenderness. She knew he must be like that with everyone, but his hazel eyes had unlocked a part of her. If he wanted her, there was nothing she wouldn’t do. He made her desire as she had no known it was possible. If he looked at her and whispered her name as he had this m

She saw his cock bulging against his pants. He gasped for breath and fidgeted with his zipper, trying to adjust and make room for his thickening cock. “Do you know, I’ve never had anyone kiss me here,” she said and spread her lips to show the rosy bud of her clit. He stared. “Do you know how many things I’ve always wanted to do, that I’ve wanted to feel?” She asked him, innocent of what her question meant to him. “I don’t even know what I want,” she said, gasping now as she rubbed herself, fingering herself with increasing urgency. He watched a trickle roll down her leg and fell to his knees before her. He kissed the spot above her knee, along the inside of her thigh, where a stream would flow. She felt her legs trembling and she didn’t know if she could stand. He sucked and licked his way to the warmth she was fingering, devouring her as she began to release control. He held her against the wall, his hands supporting the cheeks of her ass, as she let his tongue lick her into an ecs

“I swear, Gabriel, the money is ridiculous. Why wouldn’t I keep doing it?” Axl is lounging on my couch, still in his Jamie’s Lodge uniform and shoving an ungodly bite of pizza into his mouth. “I just want to know how you manage to look like you do by eating that crap,” I answer, nodding at the mostly-eaten slice. “All the gyrating I do,” he says, still chewing. I shake my head. “I don’t need a visual of you shaking your dick in some poor girl’s face.” He laughs. “You should try it.” “No way would he do it,” Quinton says from the chair, his attention focused on the hockey game. “More like no way would you do it,” I shoot back, giving him a pointed look. “Hey, the ladies like their dark men thick,” he says, rubbing his hand over his not-that-thick belly. “Trust me, I don’t need to dance at bachelorette parties to get the goods.” “You’re both pathetic,” I say. “I would have thought that our days of university were behind" “Watch your tone, young man,” Axl says. “Unlike you, some

“Yay! She’s here!” Abby says as she pulls me off the cabin’s front porch and into the warmth of the room. A chorus of delighted squeals answers her, and I can’t help but laugh and smile. “Hi, girls.” “Mama Long!” The others rise as one inebriated group to give me hugs, and I return all of them warmly. They’re all like my daughters in their own individual ways; I’ve known many of them since they were in preschool with Britanya. There’s Abby, the ringleader who still looks every bit the former high school cheerleader, with her brown ringlets and honey-colored eyes. Diana, the first-generation Mexican-American daughter of immigrants who’d rebelled rather spectacularly against their strict upbringing, but seemed to be coming back around now that she was facing the realities of adulthood. Ginger, a woman who many thought was my daughter, with her red hair swept into the tight ballerina bun that was as much a part of her as breathing. And the surprise—and love—of my life, Britanya. Built