Chéri Novels & Stories

Amelia gasped, "Did you make out a stranger?" Chelsea pursed her lips in silence. "Chellie! How could you? I'm disappointed." Chelsea raised her shoulders, slightly bending her head, "Well at least I got his number and we're in a talking stage," Amelia narrowed her eyes, "You sure?" Chelsea crossed her arms over her chest, chuckling, "I promise." Amelia smiled, "What's his name though?" "Jacques." "Ouu, french guy…" Amelia moved her shoulders from side to side.

As she positioned herself above Denny, her wet and equally aroused pussy was pressed against his cock, rubbing on it at her every little move. "Tu es si chaude…" [You're so hot…] Denny whispered as he could feel the warmth of her labium wrapping his girth from the top side. She loved the feel of her mouth wrapped around his phallus, but it was a different sensation, a more intense titillation when it was her sinful pussy lips wrapped in his shaft. “Tu es si mouillé, Mon Cheri .” [You're so wet, honey.] "Tu me fais mouiller," [You make me wet] Trisha whispered back.

Trying to stand up, my legs feel wobbly but I manage to grab onto a chair before I fall and I turn my head. There, sat Austin Dechart with a smirk on his face and I could feel my blood run cold. "Hello principessa. Long time no see."

He’s unruly and rude! “Hey! Did you hear me?” she asked him again. “You’re noisy.” The guy just answered with a baritone voice. ‘What? After all he did, he just answered me with a few words and even called me noisy?’ she thought, feeling even more enraged. The guy’s attitude is just a very big turn off. “As*h*le.” She whispered enough for him to hear. “Tch!” The guy just ignored her and continued walking towards the restaurant.

"I should have asked for a lesbian playmate instead of leaving a bisexual with Sam." "Désolé, Mistress, for falling in love with your husband. Je t'aime," Chantelle said, kissing Marcia. It was a warm kiss. If it had caused problems, they weren't evident now. Their kiss broke and Marcia pulled Chantelle against her, idly stroking her breasts.

“What do you mean? You went out of town by yourself? Are you crazy? You’re a girl—” “I’m not asking for your opinion. I’m just informing you,” I cut her off, my voice calm. Her voice instantly rose. “Freya Brown! You come back right now! “What kind of behavior is this?! We just didn’t bring you to one meal. Did you really have to blow things up like this?” I stayed silent. She probably thought I was wavering, because her tone softened slightly. “Alright, alright. Just come home. Mom will make your favorite sweet and sour ribs.”

Chelsea replied. Guy number two extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Shaun and this is my nosy friend, Max.” “I’m Chelsea and this…” She looked my way. “…is Charli.” Max lifted his brow. “You don’t look like any Charlie I’ve ever met.” “It’s Charli with an i.” He sat on the end of my chair. “Well, Charli with an i, would you like a drink or something?” I turned toward my half-filled glass of slushy. “I’m good, thank you. Besides, it’s not even noon. Isn’t that a little early for drinks?”

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“No internet. No elevator. No female doctors to flirt with.” Chris huffs. “You wound me.” We fall into a rhythm, the kind that only exists when you’ve known someone long enough to skip small talk entirely. Damian fetches him a coffee—black, extra sugar—and I hand over a small brown bag of baked goods I made this morning: lemon muffins with rosemary. My version of a peace offering. Chris sniffs them like a dog. “You trying to seduce me back to life, chef?” I roll my eyes. “Too late. You’re already alive and annoying.”

Sheri said, shaking her head as she stood up and Charles typed, zooming the photos out. "No! No! Oh, God, no!" Sheri gasped when she saw that one of the photos was a close-up of an ass with a black cock sticking out of it, beneath which was a pussy whose long inner lips were hanging down and gaping apart, beads of moisture glistening from the dark-tinged edges.