Author 50 Shades Novels & Stories

Some friend she was, leaving me all alone with the big bad wolf, who looked ready to bite as he settled into her seat. "I-I-I wasn't talking about you sir, it-it's just this movie I watched last night—" He leaned close, a smirk on his face, eyebrows raised. "Oh really?" I nodded eagerly. "Yeah." "Title?" I stared absent-mindedly at his lips... they were so pink, so full and lustrous. I shook my head to clear the fog in my head. "Huh?" "What's the name of the movie?" He clarified. I said the first thing that came to mind, "Oh... uh-uhm, Fifty Shades of Grey." then paled when I realized what I had just said.

“Wait here, I’m going to give you something that will help you relax.” Before I could make a protest, she was gone out of my sight. Girl number eleven was now too close to Ace, as if she wanted to sit on her lap. She kept nudging for his biceps, rubbing her arms against Ace’s from time to time. Ace seemed to be oblivious of the lustful stares he was getting from the girls flocking around him. “Got it” Karen came back catching he breathe with three books in her hands. “Here.” “What am I going to do with these?” grabbing the offered books to me, the book on top was entitled ‘Fifty Shades of Grey.’

Davis The tiles in the handicap stall were cold, but the girl pressed against them was burning up. My name is Davis. 20 years old, a high Senior, and this girl right here, Her name was... Cindy, or maybe Chelsea—I didn’t really care. She had her skirt bunched up around her waist, and her breath was hitching in my ear as I buried my face in the crook of her neck. The air in the bathroom was thick with the scent of her sweet perfume and the sharp smell of bleach. I was moving with a heavy, rhythmic pace, my hands locked onto her hips to keep her pinned.

Or you want distraction? Me: Distraction. Please. Tony: Tell me what you’re wearing. My breath caught. Heat crawled up my neck. Me: Just a tank top, no bra and cotton sleep shorts. Nothing special. Tony: Sounds special enough. What color? Me: Black tank and red shorts. They ride up when I move. Tony: You moving right now? Me: Yeah. Shifting. Trying to get comfortable. Tony: Stop trying. Lie back, open your legs a little.

I can just taste it. With the other hand he returns my notepad. ‘cheekyboy@xmail.com,’is all that he has written. I feel for him, a squeezed hand to tell him I understand. I realise I can smell better than I can taste. I pull the damp part under my nose and inhale – deeply. He turns me round, not easy in the enclosed space, and I stare at his chest. He thrusts a knee at my pubic bone. It’s not quite enough for a woman, even in my state, with my power skirt ruining any chance of further pleasure. I fight to get my legs apart. Impossible. I rub vigorously and kinda manage a climax.

That was fast. I shifted my weight slightly, glancing around the quiet street before looking back at the entrance. My phone vibrated, [Give me five minutes.] I chuckled, [I will be waiting right here baby.] And I already pictured his annoyed face, muttering at himself that he isn’t my baby. Well too bad because he bloody is. And exactly five minutes and twenty three seconds later, I heard his heavy footsteps as he came down the stairs. Fuck me hardddd. I think I will never get used to seeing him this pretty and always breathtaking. Like he literally gets prettier every time I see him, and it should be blasphemous looking this handsome.

But as she reached the center of the room, the mahogany table, the holographic map, and the bottle of scotch all dissolved into grey, un-rendered blocks. ​The windows didn't show New York anymore. They showed a Loading Screen. ​[BUFFERING: 'REAL_WORLD_2026' MODULE 98% COMPLETE.] ​The elevator doors opened. Julian Vane wasn't there. ​Instead, a man in a simple grey sweater stepped out. He looked tired, his eyes red from staring at a monitor for too long. He held a physical cup of coffee and a printed stack of papers. ​"Nora," the man said, his voice weary. "I’m the Actual Author. Not the character I wrote to look like me. The real one. The one who's been trying to get you to 300,000 words for

“And the most interesting part about it is that it has its kitchen in every room and there are about 7 rooms in this penthouse.” “No way..” Michael exclaimed as he stared up at the chandelier and we all looked outside the window. “This is fucking paradise up here, man.. You outdid yourself this must have cost an arm and a leg.” I said and he nodded, and his brows danced in mock surprise. “But it is all fine. I mean I work for a man called “Mr Mateo Caden” so I should be good.” We all chuckled and shook hands. “Y’all freshen up.. We gotta club tonight or do something fun at least, yeah?”

I саn’t hеlр ѕhоutіng оut her name bеfоrе I slip іntо a реасеful, exhausted drеаm state. [Next POV from 'Blake' in Chapter 56] ******** Author Note: If you like my erotica stories please leave a 5-star ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ review. Show some love! Official Community 👉 bit.ly/avi22nash Official Facebook 👉 bit.ly/FLSpage

I ordered and she froze, her eyes returning to meet mine in surprise. “Sir, is there something wrong with the presentation? Why did you ask me to stop—” I slammed on the projector button and it turned off immediately. Good fucking riddance. “Get over here, Lena. On those pretty knees. Keep those juicy fingers away from the floor, I need to taste them.” I ordered and like an obedient slut, she got on her knees, crawling over to me. When she got in front of me, just like I had ordered, she kept her middle and ring fingers away from the dirt. I took her hand in my mouth, licking off the juices that had coated it, and she moaned softly in pleasure.