Novel & Cerita Delight Stories

Suit pouted childishly at Anderson, and continued, “Do we have a deal, Mr. Anderson?” Anderson stared back and forth between Suit and the scroll. His mind was racing. The contract sounded simple enough. Straightforward, but he did not understand. ‘What did he mean by survive ten stories? Did he not say I was going to tell a story? What does survive the story mean?’ Question after question popped up into his head. He could not help himself. He had no idea exactly what it meant, but one thing was for certain; He would not move forward if he did nothing but constantly question the situation.

I can't see clearly you know as my focus is on the road. "How naughty!" This man was unbelievable! "Ohhh, it was delicious. Thank you." I was helpless. All I could do was laugh. "So, which beach are we going to?" I asked him as I munched on my own bread. "Well it's not a commercial beach resort. It's a villa actually near the seaside. We call it Villa del Sol." "Ohh, I've been there!" "Really? I suppose with your Ex?" "Yeah. 5 years ago. I thought he was going to propose there.. Haha.. Me and my wishful thinking."

Her words flowed effortlessly, painting a new story—the story of Theo and Mama Hazel, of nighttime adventures and endless dreams, of love that knew no bounds and a bond that transcended the ordinary. As she penned the final lines of the story, a sense of peace settled within Mama Hazel. The power of storytelling had once again worked its magic, not only in Theo's dreams but also in her own heart, reaffirming the timeless truth that the greatest stories are those written with love, shared with joy, and woven into the fabric of our lives.

I have tried to seduce Lena countless times, but she always shyly pulled away like she was scared of getting tainted by me. I wanted to break that innocence. I wanted to hear her scream out my name in pleasure while I pounded her from behind as her huge tits bounced from the impact. I have envisioned this fantasy so hard that thinking about it made my dick twitch in my pants painfully. I fantasized about how warm her tight cunt would feel when I was balls deep inside her. How it would feel like when I fucked her mouth while those innocent brown orbs looked up to me like I was her salvation. And I would worship her like the goddess she was, if only she would give me a chance.

She hesitated only a second before opening it. And there it was. A pair of panties. Hers. Still damp. Still wrinkled from the night he tore them off. Delilah stared at the fabric in her hands, breath catching in her throat. They were folded neatly. Tucked beneath a worn leather wallet and a lighter. She should have been disgusted. She should’ve been scared. But instead… she felt heat swirl in her belly like lightning in a bottle. He kept them. She pressed the panties to her face and inhaled.

Maya’s heart hammered against her ribs as the heavy steel door clicked shut behind her. The invitation had cost her three grand and a favor from a source who owed her big. *The Vault* didn’t advertise. You got in because someone who mattered wanted you there—or because you were useful. Tonight she was both: freelance journalist chasing a story on the ultra-rich and their dirty little playgrounds.

“Nice to meet you.” The guy lifted a lazy hand. “Matteo. Or Matte. Whatever.” They ushered me toward the island where plates of pancakes, fruit, and coffee already waited. I slid onto a stool, still clutching the hem of Declan’s shirt like it might protect me from whatever bizarre morning this was turning into. “So,” Elisabeth said, eyes sparkling with mischief, “how’d you meet our boy?” “At the confectionery,” I answered automatically. “The little one on Elm Street. I was buying cake. He… was there.”

Chapter 1 The bookstore smelled like fresh coffee and old paper, the way it always did on event nights. Elena Reyes stood at the front of the packed reading room, microphone in hand, watching twenty kids and their parents lean forward as she finished the last chapter of the bedtime story. Laughter rippled through the crowd. A little girl in the front row clapped so hard her pigtails bounced. Then her phone buzzed on the podium. Once. Twice. Three times. She ignored it until the applause died down. Only then did she glance at the screen.

They pointed to the leaflet and argued greedily about something. Emanuele quickly lowered her head further, while her boyfriend hugged her tighter. The brown-haired girl's heart began to beat wildly. They hadn't left in their entirety! They practically camped out in the building to... For what? How could a bunch of wrinkly old women be so intent on harming a single person? Would the intensive brainwashing they had undergone last forever? Yes, because what Emanuele's mother, the "kind" and "wonderful" Margaret had done to everyone around her was just that: a web of illusions meticulously set up, trapping everyone in the threads of mirages and pretty lies.

Yet, now, dozens of unread messages had flooded her screen, the notification count still climbing. Evelyn's eyes widened in surprise. Clicking into them, she quickly realized that nearly all of them were about Matteo. "Matteo's seriously messed up. Didn't he get his one true love back? Now that you're gone, he suddenly woke up and realized your worth. Please. What does he think this is, some dramatic novel where the jerk hero gets a second chance?