Character Black Beauty

“For someone who’s soon to be married, you sure look miserable, Mr?” “Creed,” the man replies, his words slurred, almost like he’s absent minded. “Alexander Creed.” He completes. . . . Two days to the wedding. Two days to Alexander’s wedding, his path crosses with a girl who makes him feel like himself. Evangeline. They share a dance at a club, and that dance led to a steamy night together. A steamy night that somehow left lingering emotions. When Alexander decides not to push through with the wedding, his bride-to-be reveals a heartbreaking information. Evangeline’s and Alexander’s meeting was never a coincidence. For Evangeline, it was just a job, but for Alexander, her name has refused to evade his memory. What will happen when she returns three months later with the resulting factor of their affair? Read to find out.

After being sent back in time to relive my life, I stopped standing up for the popular girl who got caught stealing. When she returned to college for classes, I dropped out. When she came to my house looking for me, I moved. I did everything I could to cut off all contact with her. Before I died in my last life, I knew she married me only for my family’s money, yet I still handed her my heart like a fool. The jewelry I gave her was “tacky.” Trying to get close to her was “annoying.” I held on to a cold, empty marriage, thinking that as long as I waited, she would eventually turn back to me. However, for more than twenty years, all I got was her indifference. I didn’t even dare touch the doorknob to her room. Then came the fire, and I risked my life to push her out the window to safety. Right before I died, I saw my wife, completely unharmed, run straight into the arms of our college valedictorian. Crying, she said she was finally free from the marriage that had made her miserable for decades. If life could start over, she said, she hoped to walk hand in hand with the person she truly loved. In that moment, my heart went dead. I let the fire swallow whatever remained of my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the bar where the popular girl was working part-time and stealing money from a customer. This time, I chose to call the police.

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?

***Explicit 18+*** "I've missed the warmth of your pussy, the feel of it. God Ginevra, you're so fucking perfect." I rasped and tightened my grip on her. I began rocking her against me ever so gently with parted lips. Her tight pussy very often gripping unto my dick, taking me hostage with each rock against me and a loud scream finally escaped from the back of my throat. *** The game of chess is one love cannot salvage. When the king and the queen come out to play, they have no other goal set before them if not going at each other's throat for the kill until a winner emerges. This is the game of the mafia, the game that'd never allow Love exist between two rivals. They want to love and care for each other but don't know how- all they've known all their lives is loyalty to their famiglia and name. What would happen when the only option becomes death?

My roommate won first prize in the national lottery, a full 100 million dollars. She quit her job on the spot, blocked her boss, and said to me, "Amanda, from now on, we'll live in Luxuria Heights, eating the best food and living it up." We went on shopping sprees at Hermès and treated Michelin restaurants like our daily canteen. On moving day, she told me to go ahead to the top-floor luxury apartment and wait for her. She said she needed to pick up a package. Excited, I entered the password she had given me. "Beep. Incorrect password." I was just about to try again. Then, the door opened. The person who came out was not my roommate but a stranger in a suit. He looked at me and frowned. "Who are you? Why do you have the password to my home?" I was stunned. "This is Lydia Zaydn's apartment. Who are you?" The man's expression turned strange. "Lydia Zaydn? I've lived here for five years. I've never heard of that name."

I crave excitement in my life. To do that, I send my deskmate a video of me pleasing myself with a toy. Bit by bit, it awakens his desires…

This is the biography of a 21-year-old young woman, Victoria Carlson. To her, her stepfather's massive manhood is her best coming-of-age present. "Vicky, Daddy just wants to give you a surprise," my stepfather, Charlie Kramer, says as he rips my dress off me roughly.

Life is about competition. competition is part of characteristics of living things. Crystal Stallone is a brave, courageous,a beauty to write about as it's name entails "crystal"her cute and shinny face,her black long hair,small waist and her soft and pinks lips,her thick body are features one wouldn't resist to write about.she is the only daughter of a well known fashion magazine "My face,my beauty"she was born into fashion all she loves to do is taking care of her beauty,she puts on the lastest designers,shoes,bag, jewelries. As Fate could have it "Nothing in this world is perfect"same to Crystal as beautiful she is,she is the dullest and dumbest student in her class, No one compete with her in worst grades but Crystal prefers her beauty to her grades. Some of the teacher already accepted her fate,her nonchalant behaviors. Crystal was in love with a person who rejected her confession and underestimate her "Damien" His awards can't be written. "A notable and prestige child of the mayor of New York city. He is rude and grumpy too. Damien,in general was never interested in women,he resent ladies because they thinks nothing other than gushing over pretty boys and celebrities. The school depends on his intelligence and ability. "No other winner than him." Apart from being the school brilliant boy,he is apopular athlete. Damien being a proud jerk had underestimated crystal,the very known dumbest girl in the school,even though she still wanted to love him but really had to give up because of how humiliated she felt. Crystal made her vow to always be his rival by competing with him in everything he has. She made a vow that whenever there's a boy named Damien in every competition,there will be a girl named Crystal as his rival. Moreover,the difference between a boy and a girl is just Biology.

During an elective class, the campus belle, Jemima Ford, who is our senior, describes her ideal type with everyone egging her on. She says, "My future husband has to be at least six feet two inches tall. His parents must be college professors, and his grades should be top three in his major…" The room buzzes with teasing chatter and gossip. At the same time, I snap up my head in surprise. Why does Jemima's description of her ideal type sound like my boyfriend, Elijah Sanders? The next second, the professor standing by the podium smiles obsequiously and says, "Very well said. If Eli hears this, he'll definitely be very happy! Later, the two of you can meet. That way, he won't get tricked by some naive girl into going abroad." Amid the burst of laughter from the class, I lower my eyes and look at the message my parents sent me. It reads, "Sweetheart, are you really going abroad with your boyfriend? There'll be no one left to inherit our company with you gone."

"Mr. Kane, do you have any cucumbers at home? Can I have one?" The hurricane strikes, and my daughter's best friend, Lexie Cooper, is stuck in my home. She comes to ask me for a cucumber late at night with a flushed face. "I'm just a little hungry. I'd like to snack on some cucumber," she says. As I look at the pointy tips peeking from underneath her pajamas, a primal urge surges uncontrollably within me. I say deliberately and slowly, "I have something even better than a cucumber."