Desi Stories 소설 & 이야기

Desi paused, her words heavy with disappointment. Uhuk, uhuk, uhuk. Fahira choked on the food she was chewing. Darian quickly grabbed a glass of water and helped Fahira drink it while gently rubbing her back. Of course, Darian knew the reason behind her choking. "Easy there, Fahira," Desi said worriedly. The middle-aged woman smiled, witnessing her nephew's gentle behavior towards the woman he married yesterday. Desi still remembered Fahira as the woman she once met at the hospital mosque. Back then, Desi gave her business card to Fahira. For some reason, Desi felt compassionate towards the woman who was crying in her prayers that day, and she briefly considered getting to know her better.

Some stories started with hate. This one ended with everything.

Desi shook her head, her smile widening as the stories grew more outlandish. She felt surprisingly at ease among them, their teasing drawing her in. For a moment, it was easy to forget her past. One of the men leaned closer, lowering his voice. “So, what’s it like working for the boss? Is he as scary as he seems?” he asked with a playful smirk. Desi raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider the question. “Depends on the day,” she replied, eliciting a round of laughter. “Yeah, but he’s got a soft spot, doesn’t he?” another said, nudging her. “Especially when it comes to you.”

Desi knew that she should be glad that she wasn’t forced to live among the humans forever and had to hide herself forever. “Are you getting ready for next week?” her mother asked as she cooked the dinner that would last a few nights for the family of three. Her mother was a beauty though she looked different from everyone else here. Desi could remember something about her mother having different bloodlines which left her hair darker with the silver tips that made her different from all those around her.

Crotches packed thick in jeans, some so obvious she could see the outlines, hard and ready from watching the women dance. One guy leaned against the wall, muscles flexing as he chatted up a girl, broad chest under a torn t-shirt, pants tight over a thick bulge that shifted as he laughed. She imagined him watching her get fucked, stroking that cock slowly, pre-cum dripping as he waited his turn. Another sat at the bar, beard thick and dark, eyes raking over a woman's ass like he wanted to bend her over right there; she pictured his rough hands on her tits, pinching hard while Jax thrust into her from behind, his cock veiny and hot.