Anime Grind

A war veteran and an anime fan as well, he got into anime by watching it with his grandson after his retirement, his grandson loved pokemon and so did he also came to like this world of pokemon where people didn't kill each other and people used to have fun with there pokemon, after watching Pokemon with his grandson and playing with him all day he got back his childhood which he could never experience due to the cruel war, and as of now our MC has turned 82 years old he was very satisfied with his life with no regrets and waiting for death to take him away but will death be is end or will it start a new beginning, a new legend.

It's nighttime, and I'm on the toilet with my phone. I fire up Battleborn Arena, ready to grind a few ranked matches. But an unknown number flashes on-screen and cuts me off. Annoyed, I decline the call, and a WhatsApp message pops up immediately. "Run! Edgar just snapped. He's going to kill us all!" My hands tremble. Edgar Maguire… Isn't he already dead?

“I want you to ride me, peanut butter, make your daddy proud, grind on me so good that it takes away my stress of the week.” His strong arms carrying her to bed as he sits down the pile of money, he had kept just too wet them in her juices as he fucks her. Her eyes look at him no break of eye contact as he shifts closer to her his big crotch grows even more as he now straddles her and she lets out a moan. “Just make daddy proud baby”

When I have a pen in my hand and paper before me, I think I want to write something to cast every despair in my pathetic life away. I have a figure of a depressed guy whose fate is too much: saving the world. He is not stupid nor even smart, he is not ugly nor even good looking. He is just a nijikon (A person who loves an anime character more than the real one) like me. He once thought to give up on life, but an event changes his life. I'm sure you guys start guessing how the story goes, but too bad, this one is different than the others.

After his dream career as a footballer comes to a tragic end before it even got started, Twenty-three-year old Samuel Cartwright is forced to pursue a lackluster job as a high school substitute Literature teacher when his father gets into a bad accident. With no real interest in teaching, he is less than enthused to face the spoiled rich kids than run the elite school where he’s been hired on a whim. It is no mystery to him that he doesn’t belong there and that the Principal intends to fire his father at the first opportunity that she gets. With his Dad’s job on the rocks, Samuel does the unthinkable – he gets into an affair with a man two years younger than him. Of course, Ryan isn’t just any student. He’s the Principal's out-of-control son. It seems that both teacher and son have an ax to grind with the Principal. What better way than by having an illicit affair right under her nose?

“Who do you belong to?” He asked, his breath hot against my face as I straddled him. The way his arms wrapped around my waist made my breath hitch, and I clutched onto his shirt tighter. “Answer me,” he thundered, making me shudder in fright. “I belong to Prince Darion,” I muttered, my voice low. I could feel the sound of my erratic heartbeat drumming against my chest, yet I could only grind my teeth against each other. … Chosen by Darion Gray, I'd become his possession, unable to escape even if I wanted to. Not only had he owned my body, but my soul as well. What I hadn't expected was for me to fall for a man who had worn a mask since the beginning. A mask he never took off.

A dare by her new college friends to grind a stranger at the club ended with Imani having a one-night stand with the stranger. It's the most memorable night of her life, an unbridled night of passion when she unlocked a side of herself that she didn't know existed. It's a night she'd never forget with a stranger she'd never see again, or so she thought. Until she gets to her first class in school and her new professor is the man whose cock she bounced on the previous night. But it doesn't end there, and fate keeps playing her when the same professor shows up at her house as her stepfather’s brother. And now, she's not only going to deal with him as her professor but also as her step-uncle under the same roof.  It should be simple. She just has to pretend that the night in his car never happened, but Stephan doesn't play pretend, and he wants a repeat of that night for as long as possible. 

Russia, the only place where sex and guns could ever taste so sweet—my exact nightmare. The only thing I’m here for is to grind my body over shady politicians for my father’s schemes. I’d be more than willing to do so if it meant I’d pull my mother and myself out of his chains and start a new life. I was so close, so damn close—until he came . . . very much unannounced. Konstantin Morozov, the man I am going to be married off to. Russia’s ruthless beast— earning his crown with bloodied hands. With this, I only had to face two challenges: infiltrate his notorious business as per father’s order and divorce him when the time is right. But dealing with a husband who has a Morozov as his last name was never easy, especially with a gun pointed at my head, and those rough, cruel hands wrapped around my heart. I wonder which blows up first?

Samira looked into his eyes, trying to figure out if he was joking. Seeing only calmness, she nodded, desperate to get out of the situation she'd found herself in. "Your performance..." "You want me to sleep with you?" she interrupted, unable to believe her ears. He poked her head gently. "Is that what your little mind keeps telling you? I don't hate the idea of making love to you, but I can't do it without your permission. And that doesn't mean I'm willing to let you go." "Then what do you mean?" He tightened his grip on her waist, causing her thighs to grind against his growing arousal. He groaned loudly, his breath ragged as he palmed her ass cheeks. Her short dress was not helping matters. "I don't love wild women in my bed," he said. Samira knew he was lying. He wanted her to act wild so he could keep her forever. An idea popped into her mind, and she didn’t hesitate to put it into action. "How about we confirm your theory of the ideal woman in the room?"

Five years into marriage, Silvia Serra becomes both Dante Valenti's most lethal weapon and his most invisible presence. She shields him from bullets. She crosses a freezing river for him. Her scars accumulate, and his response is an assumption that it is how things are meant to be. In time, Dante grows repulsed by the violence clinging to her. He derides her lack of charm and gives his warmth to another woman instead. He allows others to grind down her dignity, and with a new lover in his arms, he openly stains her name. Silvia tolerates it so she can continue guarding him. Everyone mocks her as if she's numb to it all, driven away again and again, but never truly gone. Then comes the night of pounding rain. Cast aside without ceremony, Silvia erases every sign she was ever there and leaves with finality. Dante treats it as nothing more than sulking, convinced she will return within three days. Later, the once-untouchable Don was seen on his knees at Silvia's feet, stripped of all pride, begging her to turn back and look at him just once.