Dirty Bucket List Novels & Stories

I've never been in such a dead end in my entire life, it was frustrating the hell out of me. "It's going nowhere, branching out like crazy and now I'm making a bucket list." Yep, minutes before I tapped out I made a bucket list to take my mind off the wall that kept on taunting me. "Bucket list?" "Yep, from tacos, riding the boring carousell to movie nights and glamping, all the cheesy stuff I've never done since my work kept me busy." Nero watched me, he looked amused once again, his expression soften and it made me want to melt into his arms. As I said, cheesy, I was feeling cheesy. Yep, it's the humidity, I was truly convinced.

Sarah smiled and continued, “Think back on everything you’ve ever wanted to do, and list it all down. Treat it like a bucket list—things you’ve wanted to eat but never allowed yourself to, things you wanted to buy but never did. Write them all down.” After a long moment of internal struggle, the student added a few more items to the list. “Bungee jumping? That’s a great choice!” Sarah commented. “They say the experience is like a near-death moment, and when you walk away afterward, it feels like being reborn.” Then she added, “But you forgot to factor in travel time. There’s no bungee jumping in East Coast, right? Just getting there and back would take about four hours, plus an hour for the

When I said no stories, no second times, no whatever it was I said while under the influence of cosmos, I meant it. As long as we never have to see each other again. That’d be fabulous. So basically, Santa Monica needed to expand by another few thousand people. Several thousand would be great. Like, twenty thousand. The chances of this happening are, I know, slim. But a girl can dream. A girl’s gotta dream if she wants to stay sane. A last-minute tour for Dirty J. would be epic. An impromptu concert on Mars would be even more epic. Jesus, what the heck was I thinking? Sleeping with Titus James? Did I have a temporary lapse in sanity last night?

It’s allowed, right? “Stop it right now. You get your ass up and into the shower because I’m questioning the last time you washed your hair. And then we are going out. I spent the last two days ridding my house of everything that doesn’t spark joy, and Lord help me, we both need a night out.” “What were you left with?” “My vibrator and my electric wine opener.” “Way to minimalize.” “I might have kept my old Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs too. And a few of the kids’ favorite toys. I’m going to snap before we get this house ready to go up for sale.”

I’m Leo, and yeah, you’re probably wondering how a guy who got dumped three weeks before Thanksgiving is now standing on a major adult film set about to fuck the one and only Chloe Vance. It all started with one dumb comment. I was venting to Marcus about the breakup when he leaned over my shoulder. “Dude, the studio just dropped a contest. Bad holiday? Spill your sad story in the comments and win a shoot with a top star. Might cheer you up.” “Type something,” he pushed. “Fine.” I typed fast: “Gf left me three weeks before Thanksgiving because my dick game is apparently mid. Now I’ll be alone jerking off to p**n instead of being in it. Thanks, Turkey Day.”

“This is our bucket list,” said Dizen and he was like very excited on what they will do. Just by looking at the list, he has now having a picture on what tomorrow will look like. “Yeah, so this is the first task we are going to do?” asked Eli and she was pointing her index finger on the first thing listed on their list. “Yeah.” Dizen nodded his head with a smile. Eli looked up as if she was thinking of something. “Mountain climbing,” she said while gently rubbing her chin.

I would do anything for my brother, he was the one person who has always protected me and was there for me. I tried packing light, but how do you choose which Louis Vuitton bag to take or which Gucci belt looked better, the deep black one or the raven black one! So, in the end I had three suitcases filled to the brim with designer items that I just couldn’t bear to part with.

I burst through the exit doors into the grey, drizzling New York afternoon, my mind racing in a frantic, terrifying loop. The Showcase was in exactly six days. I had less than a week to figure out a way to save my grades and keep my scholarship, without letting the anonymous blackmailer release that hospital photo and completely destroy my life. I was running out of time, running out of options, and entirely alone in the dark.