Break Yo Self Foo Novels & Stories

[You should try it on your knees] "Shut up, you piece of shît"

_ it landed right inside the hoop where it fucking belong. And that's was our winning three point right there amigos and it felt really good._no!, good is a fucking understatement. It's even better than good! It fucking felt like a thousand little butterflies in the stomach that won't stop tickling all the sensitive spot and kept giving off all the sweet sensation that one can't help but scream and shout on top of their voices.

I`m setting you free. *********

̴a̵r̴e̸ ̸n̸o̸t̶ ̶m̵y̸ ̷m̵a̴t̴e̵!̶ ̸P̶u̵l̸l̷ ̶t̷h̷i̶s̵ ̸s̴t̶u̵n̷t̴ ̶a̷g̷a̶i̴n̸ ̶a̵n̸d̴ ̶I̷’̵l̴l̶ ̶h̸a̷v̷e̸ ̵y̵o̶u̵r̴ ̵h̸e̸a̶d̵ ̶f̵o̵r̷ ̵d̶i̴n̷n̴e̶r̵,̶ ̸d̴o̶ ̵I̶ ̴m̷a̶k� �e̶ ̷m̷y̴s̸e̴l̴f̸ ̵c̸l̶e̶a̶r̶!̸”

However, before I could speak, a sweet feminine voice spoke from the other end, "Paul? Can you get me a bra…" I laughed bitterly and hung up, deleting my social media accounts to cut all ties with him. If I could do it again, I definitely wouldn't relent and sacrifice my youth.

The feeling that I knew very well but didn't want to admit. "Damn it!" My voice exploded in the room as I smashed the wine glass on the floor making it shatter into a hundred pieces. "Why did you do this?" I screamed at her beautiful smiling face. "Why? Why did you do this?" My voice remained a mere whisper by the end of the sentence.

Marga POV "No way!" Chloe voice boom inside our dorm. For sure her voice can be heard the other room. This girl have high pitched voice that sometimes I told her to audition in orchestra. "C'mon you look pretty in this!" I said as I tried to convince her. She let out a big groan indicating she's not up for it. Which she is wrong because I am super stubborn and persuasive. "I told you I am not going to wear that. My clothes are all ok. It's very comfortable and I already used to it!" She said and I can't help but rolled my eyes on her.

I thought while giggling. ***

He was on top of me instantly, pinning me with his weight, his mouth close to my ear. “Are you that lonely, Maggie? Do you want to be touched so badly?” he rasped. “Need your husband's help?” My breath hitched—not in fear, but in pure, visceral rage at the violation. The protective wall I built around my true self surged. In one fluid motion, born of desperation and the instinct for self-preservation, I drove my right hand up and clamped my nails around his neck, applying pressure. Simultaneously, my left hand shot down and closed around his testicles. I held them firmly, tightly.

They just let go and left me crumpled on the floor like garbage. I crawled my way to the hospital. I was gritting my teeth through the agony of having my leg reset when I received a video from Madison. I clicked on it. Shawn was shirtless in the clip, his toned body half-lit in the dim light. Madison was kneeling between his legs. His breathing was uneven, and a strained groan would occasionally escape his throat. I watched it once. Then, I deleted it. Trash like that wasn't worth the storage. ... The day before departure, I was out drinking with my best friend when Shawn suddenly burst in with a group of people behind him.