How To Draw A Sink

*Warning* This book contains explicit content and it's rated 18+. They can be read as standalone as they are all age-gap romances. Hope y'all are ready for a pleasant ride. xoxo. "Oh, please, sir. Please, fuck me!" I screamed in delirium. The heat from him disappeared for a moment, and I was sad and scared. Where did he go? What had I done wrong now? But he returned, sheathed and ready to plunge into me. "Oh, thank God," I said breathlessly. He chuckled a little; slowly he slid in, adjusting me on the sink, aligning me to his dick. Each thrust sent me further into a manic need to come. Perhaps I was screaming, because his hand covered my mouth. For a brief moment, I was frightened. I was panting so hard it blocked my need to breathe, but then his voice was in my ear. "Come for me, bluebird."

She cupped my face in her hands and said, slow and deliberate, "We're going to make a promise. Starting tomorrow, you'll draw one sun a day in your notebook. No skipping, no cheating—you have to fill it with thirty thousand suns. Only when you've drawn the last one can you come find me."

My younger sister, Mindy Sampson, has a rare blood condition. She needs regular blood transfusions and a bone marrow transplant. My husband, Ian Huffman, and I are matches. My mother says we should draw lots. Whoever draws the short stick will become Mindy's blood donor. In the next five years, I am always the one who draws the short stick. Because of constant blood draws and bone marrow extractions, my body breaks down. Before I die, I stumble upon Ian holding Mindy and saying, "Cindy is so stupid. There are only short sticks in the container. Every time, we let her draw first. How could she ever get a long one? "She is going to die without ever knowing you are not sick at all. Once she dies and we get the insurance money, we can travel the world." When I open my eyes again, I am back in the fifth year after Mindy is diagnosed. I look at the container of sticks on the table and smile. Then, I look at Ian and say, "This time, you draw first."

He is my art coach. And he sucked my dick after our first lesson, obviously, I didn't know he was gay! Now, I have to accept that I am impossibly attracted to a man who is eleven years older than me and a relationship between us could never be possible….or? ~~~    “Do you regularly do this with men you meet for the first time?” Min-a asked, his eyes still appearing a little dilated.    “If you mean giving them a ride in my Mustang? No, I don’t do that.” Seung-ho replied, sounding serious. He glanced at Min-a to see a frown knitting his eyebrows close, and he chuckled. “If it would make you less grumpy, sucking your dick bruised my jaw. So, I don’t think I would be giving free blow jobs to any other man I meet in the near future…”  ~~~~ 22-year-old Model influencer, Korea's number one bad boy, Seo Min-a, has everything a boy could want: great looks, amazing talent, the only son of a billionaire family, millions of followers, and fangirls at his feet. Min-a’s quest to help his sister sign a contract with the defiant artist Kwan Seung-ho, who was a much older man leads him to a brilliant art coach who challenges his understanding of love and identity. Could they really be a couple in a society where being gay is seen as condemnable? What Epic Love Story will they write?

My grandmother only knows how to draw one thing—infants. They're ugly, but people line up to buy the paintings. I watch as she takes those women into unlit rooms. Then, their bloodcurdling screams will ring out. Oddly enough, they always thank my grandmother when they're leaving. One day, I finally find out what exactly my grandmother paints. I discover the truth when I see an infant crawl out of one of the women's bellies—it looks just like the one my grandmother has painted.

She craved to be chosen openly, shamelessly with no hesitation. When he entered her life, he gave her exactly that, intense affection, gentle touches, long conversations, and a kind of desire she had never known. For a sheltered girl who has always felt invisible, his warm affection always felt like a light at the end of a tunnel. But behind the desire lay something heavier. His temper, his violent stories, the weight of his complicated past, and the quiet way he consumed her emotionally began to drain her. Torn between the only man who made herpersonal story about the dangers of being intensely desired and the courage it takes to choose oneself over the person who makes you feel everything feel truly seen and the growing uncertainty of what staying might cost her, she found herself trapped in a love that was both yearned for but slowly emptied her. Raw, honest and unflinchingly intimate. He Drains Me is an in-depth personal story about the dangers of being intensely desired and the courage it takes to choose oneself over the person who makes you feel everything.