Cuentos Cortos Novels & Stories

it was an erotic story ,titled the hot kidnapper) I raise an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in my eyes. I push off from the desk and walk closer, my heels clicking on the floor. “A story, huh? You think you can just walk in here and write a tale for me? How about you show me what you’re made of first? Tell me, what’s your fantasy? What gets you going in the dark?” I lean in, my breath warm against your ear, my large breasts pressing against your arm. (Pushing the paper to you I ask you to read it aloud ,you cheeks turn a faint red as you try to explain you brought the wrong story,I press a finger to your lips shushing you and telling you to read, you read it all)

“Please.” You just keep repeating that word like it has no meaning.” His voice had gotten deeper, rougher, and I could imagine him narrating an erotic audiobook.“I don’t know!” I answered.Spank.I gasped.“You do.” He rubbed the place in which his hand had landed and continued talking. “Now tell me.”I bit my lip, and I felt another spank, then a rubbing. “OKAY!” I screamed. “The wand. I like the wand.”“Good puppy.” His hand went to my cheek and rubbed it. “You see? It wasn’t that hard.”I nodded.“Now open your mouth.”

Justin looks at me and then at my belly. "Why isn't your belly getting big?" He asks. My mates and his parents start laughing. "It doesn't work that fast. I guess their stuff isn't strong enough." I raise my eyebrows at them. Justin sighs and nods. "Maybe they're broken, and you need to find a new mate. Sorry, Uncle Vaughn and Uncle Ivan, I can't have uncles who can't give me a cousin." I burst out laughing when their mouths fall open. "Oh, you think that's funny, huh?" Vaughn mindlinks me and Ivan.

The forest drank the light. June pushed through veils of thorn and creeper, her booted feet sinking into the soft, rotting loam. The air was thick and cold, carrying the scent of wet earth and something else, something ancient and metallic. The stories called this place the Cursed Wood, a place where hunters did not return. June clutched the haft of her throwing axe, her knuckles white. She was not here for game. She was here for the beast, the shadow that was said to tear livestock and men apart with equal indifference.

Her mind got stuck on the mention of Dabir's name. "And then Mom told Zamin to... Aunt Iman?" Madiha was halfway through her story but realized Iman was not listening. "Huh? What were you saying?" "Nothing." Madiha shook her head. It wasn't anything important. "Can you please make laddoo for me?" The sweet little balls of gram flour were Madiha's favorite, especially the ones that Iman makes. "Of course." Iman andwers as memories of past flodded in her brain.

Short terrifying stories that leave you insomnolent . . . definitely a must read to while away time and get sleepless with fear, hahaha. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy! While you're at it, you can check out my other profile @KinahFeels.

“Sit.” I pulled the chair out next to him and sat down. The chair was too close. I could smell his cologne. He turned the manuscript so both of us could see it. Then he leaned in. His shoulder almost touched mine. His breath hit the side of my neck and I felt goosebumps run down my arms. “Here,” he said. He pointed to a paragraph with his finger. “You’re telling me what she feels instead of showing me. You’re summarizing. That’s lazy. Don’t do that.”

Hi, I will not say much. This is an erotic story that contains a mom/aunt/son. As you know, I write about Aunt/Mom’s stories. Please support me by reading my other stories, too. Also, you can support me on my P*****n: p*****n.com/laxu00 Story starts

We never got to see how they lived happily though, but the smile in the last scene after which the The End, flew or swivelled or zoomed in, made it obvious. Nisim did tell me later that The Thief was a short story and short stories ended that way! It was five pages long, much longer than the stories in the book Deuta had gifted me on my eleventh Birthday – Aesop’s Fables – the stories in this book were never more than two pages. And always with a moral at the end. The Thief didn’t have a moral – that was the best part though – I never liked memorizing morals. But the thing was, my brother was calling the longest story I had read till then, a short story! By then, though, I had some idea of a

She picked out the first book in the shelf that looked recently read, and read the title out loud, just as he walked in with her coffee. "Relationships aren't all about sex!" She gasped turning to him. " Humor me for a second. Are you seriously reading this? I'd be damned!" His laughter was so genuine, exposing dimples, and just as contagious as well. "Long story, but you'll get to know later." He laughed again. "And they weren't there when I was born. My mother forced them out of my cheeks." Rachel blinked in confusion. " What?!" "The dimples. I caught you checking them out."