Any Stories Novels & Stories

Can't wait to get started. ##################### Disclaimer: Please note that this is just a story and it doesn't define how any kind of relationship should be. This story is purely fictional and does not have any connection to any actual story or any persons lives.

she said. “I thought that it wouldn’t be as busy as it was in San Francisco but its crazy busy as well. I think people in this country care more about political drama than anything else. Eighty-nine percent of the news content is just politics, politics, politics. I am yet to decide if that’s a good thing or not….” “How about your co-workers,were they friendly?” Her mother asked. “Yes, everyone was friendly,” She lied. Natasha knew that telling her mother about the antagonistic and villain-like Luyando would only make her have unnecessary worries. “I know it’s just the first day but I think people aren’t as scheming as they were back home.”

"Used to be. Gave it up when the stories started costing more than they were worth." That answer carried weight, the kind that invited questions but also warned against them. I set the mug on the low table in front of me and leaned forward slightly. "What kind of stories?" "The kind that get people hurt when they come out wrong. Or when they don't come out at all." I felt a flicker of recognition then, something tugging at the back of my mind like a half-remembered name. "You sound like someone who has been burned by the industry."

Stories that are waiting for the right wolf to tell them. I smiled. "Then I will tell them." I gathered the wolves of Silvermoon in the great hall. "I have found the first story," I said. "The tale that started everything. But there are other stories. Stories that have not yet been told. Stories that are waiting for us to tell them." The wolves listened, their eyes bright with curiosity. "These stories are the future. They are the tales of wolves who have not yet been born, worlds that have not yet been created, possibilities that have not yet been realized. They are waiting for us to bring them into being."

CYNTHIA “Oh shit man! That's hilarious.” I heard Jake, Cole's best friend scream from the top floor of the school's cafeteria. Of course they usually had their lunches alone,away from peering eyes. Cole had forgotten his textbook with me and I was walking slowly up the stage when I heard their laughter. Cole is my step brother,the son of my mom's husband. “So tell us, what are you gonna do and how are you gonna bang her?” I raised my brows, already liking their conversation until I heard my name.

“Hmm? Rumors about me? Haven’t heard about it. I just hope they were good rumors and not bad.” I rolled my eyes. “Oh come on. As if you haven’t heard any of those yet.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Promise! I’m completely innocent about those rumors. Tell me, what are those about?” “I don’t want to. It’s… embarrassing on my part.” “You’re blushing! Come on, I’m curious what these are all about.” What the hell. I could feel my cheeks heating up. Thankfully, we have reached the shower room. I was about to turn my direction toward the female shower room when Adrian held my arm.

Pinky squinted to read it, her eyes tracing the loops and crosses. "Collection of short stories for ladies," the title read. "Stories of desire, of awakening, of the first time." Pinky blinked, her eyes widening as she read on. The handwriting was feminine, secretive, as if the writer were sharing her most guarded thoughts with only the pages. It was a confession. A revelation. As she began to read.

Hi, I will not say much. This is an erotic story that contains a mom/aunt/son. As you know, I write about Aunt/Mom’s stories. Please support me by reading my other stories, too. Also, you can support me on my P*****n: p*****n.com/laxu00 Story starts

My name was Lola Sinclair, a young wife from a small farming town. My husband, Dominic DeLuca, used to work at a construction site. He was honest, hardworking, and willing to take any job as long as it could keep our family fed. We had two children, a modest home, and a life that was never rich but still peaceful. Then everything changed. Dominic fell from a height at the construction site and badly injured his leg. The contractor responsible disappeared soon afterward, leaving us without compensation. Instead of receiving help, we were forced to cover nearly one hundred thousand dollars in medical expenses ourselves.

My voice came out softer than I wanted. “You can.” His hand moved. His fingers brushed over my wrist as he turned the page. It was not an accident. I felt the rough pad of his thumb slide slowly across the inside of my wrist. He left it there for a second longer than he needed to. “But you have to stop being scared of the heat. This story has real heat in it, Lila. Don’t sand it down. Don’t make it polite. Write the dirty truth.”