Bobby Wasabi Kickin It Novels & Stories

Inside the live broadcast studio, Aspen remained calm as she faced the fifth hacker's attack attempt. The system held strong through every test, and the audience watched in awe as Fuller Group's tech prowess proved unshakable. "Our technology can stand up to scrutiny and isn't afraid of any challenge," Aspen declared confidently as applause thundered from the studio audience. Suddenly, a message came through her earpiece. Her lips curled into a knowing smile as she announced, "Now, let's tune in to the private cocktail party hosted by Mr. Pemberton."

At 8 PM, Abram called The Boss, and was truly sorry but, "Could we meet tonight? You, Gina and myself?" To which The Boss said yes. He called Gina and Rhonda and asked them to meet him and Abram at the club on the top floor of his apartment building. He requested their presence without the courtesy of asking or pretending to be sorry.

Kenna laughed, “I know everything, Blob Alyson. The fact that a fat, disgusting wretch like you thinks that she can stand besides Leon is hilarious. You can’t even cheer him up because you are too big.” My face turned red, and the entire hall roared with laughter. “A kiss, she kissed Leon?” “That’s not possible. She probably forced herself on him.” “Yeah, look at how big she is. Why would anyone want to kiss her?” “I’d rather eat vomit. I can’t even picture how annoying it would have been for Leon.” Everyone had something to say, and no one considered how harsh their words were. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palm.

We all say it in unison. We all head to the bar, and my brother asks for five shots. He raises his shot glass and says, “To the birthday girl.” I giggle, but everyone else and I raise the glass, and then we chug it down. We keep drinking and talking until my favorite song (Como Ayer by Cruzito and Ken-y) comes on. “Oh, my goddess, this is my song. Let's go dance.” I say this to the girls, and they both nod.

He rubbed my panty, up and down, sending shivers through my body. My whole body trembled by his touch. "Do you mind if my finger fucks you?" he asked. "Just do whatever you want, as long as I'm in the mood," I answered. He smiled and put his hand inside my panty. He even moved it down to give his hand more space to entertain me. Draken started to finger rubbed my p*ssy. At first, it was slight and he only plays the line of it, but eventually, he moved it faster. My p*ssy is wet right now.

Andrew grabbed and lifted Bobby with one swift motion, then taunted, "I said I'd beat the shit out of you, but you wouldn't believe it!" Bobby let out a fierce roar and drove his knee toward Andrew's chest. The impact made a dull thud, but Andrew did not budge, even flashing a confident smile. Bobby was stunned—that kick would have shattered an ordinary person's ribs. Yet, this guy was still grinning. Suddenly, Andrew wrapped an arm around Bobby's head and slammed it across the nearby tables like a rag doll. Plates shattered, glasses broke, and bottles smashed everywhere.

“Gee Fox? You're just a toy and always will be—” “Gia?” A voice cut through my haze, and I turned to see Bobby, the manager of the club. “Yes, Bobby?” I replied, peeling off my coat to reveal my micro mini skirt that showcased the black thong underneath, knee-high transparent black socks, heels, and a cropped corporate white shirt, complete with a tie to fit tonight's high school theme. “Private room service. Tobias Whitlock,” he said briefly.

Chim’s hands massaged Buck’s thighs, encouraging him to rock gently forward. After several long, torturous minutes, Chim pulled off with a lewd pop, lips shiny and reddened. He gave Buck’s cock one last slow lick from base to tip before Bobby stepped in. Strong hands gripped Buck’s shoulders, pushing him down to his knees on the cool gym floor. Buck went willingly, gazing up with hazy eyes as Bobby shoved his briefs down, revealing his thick, upward-curved eight-inch cock. It slapped heavily against Buck’s cheek, leaving a smear of precum. “Open up, baby,” Bobby growled.

the guy looked about at his mates. "Just go back to your table, you fucking weirdo," one of the others piped up. The first guy flinched as Jayce reached over and grabbed the now empty glass bottle from between his legs and again as Jayce smashed it against the table. Since the band had started setting up, the sound of smashing glass was masked by the distortion of the guitar. Jayce turned to the guy with the attitude and pushed the jagged edges up to his jugular vein. "Jayce, please," Lexi cried, turning up her nose. "Please, let's just go somewhere else. I heard this band sucks, anyway and this place smells like cat piss. Come on... Please?"

Bobby wasn’t usually a pissed off type of guy, but Monday, when he woke up he was pissed and moody and needed to get laid. Or punch the shit out of something. And since he didn’t think he was going to get laid soon, thanks to the damn images, he thought punching would be best. So he slipped on some basketball shorts and a tank top and headed out to the gym he saw the other day.