Dirty Comebacks Novels & Stories

The sun was well up over the treetops the next morning, leaving in its wake a flood of gold. But anything less like sunshine would be hard to find, as Sophia hurled herself from side to side in her bed, greatly beset with doubts. What's going on with Daniel? Why does he act so differently? That uncomfortable feeling of last night just wouldn't go away.

I took off all my clothes and knelt on the floor at the foot of their bed, just like he had ordered in his last message. When Dominic walked in twenty minutes later, he smiled like a man who knew he had completely broken me. “Look at you,” he said, loosening his tie. “Already naked and waiting on your knees. Such a good little homewrecker.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I hate myself for coming back. I feel so dirty. If Claire ever finds out, I’ll never recover. She’ll make sure everyone knows what a pathetic slut I am.” Dominic unzipped his pants and pulled out his thick, heavy cock. It was already rock hard.

She sucked him clean, then he exploded again, painting her face and tits with thick white streaks. The three collapsed on the bed, covered in sweat, cum, and pussy juice. The women lazily licked each other clean while Johnson caught his breath, feeling completely satisfied. Rebecca was the past. This life is the present, and he wasn't going to waste it, besides, if things go bad, he's sure Rebecca will take him back. So, he's going to enjoy every opportunity now.

Now that our roles have been reversed, I'm going to make you suffer the same amount of humiliation you've put me through in all these years, and then some! Evan broke all four of my limbs and threw me out of the house. I was forced to become a beggar, and till my dying breath, I was consumed with resentment. … "Why should I apologize?" Lorraine continued to rant. "Please, Cyrus, I'm begging you to stop showing up in front of me. I don't want to put up with any more of your humiliation!" Snapping out of my thoughts, I picked up the sapphire necklace and smiled faintly.

After hanging a family portrait on the wall, I nodded with satisfaction. There was no longer any sign of Clara anywhere. On the day of the banquet, I spotted Henry in the lounge. In just a month, the once clean-cut college student had become a disheveled mess. His eyes were dull and lifeless. He looked noticeably thinner. His cheekbones protruded sharply, and his hair was messy and unkempt. But when he saw me, a flicker of hope sparked in his eyes.

He paused for a moment, then said, "You really don't have to act like this, Annabelle. I'm just doing all this purely because Whitney just returned from abroad, and we haven't seen each other for years. "After all, we were classmates back then. It’s natural for me to behave more enthusiastically." "Do as you like," I told him flippantly. My attention was on the nail art designs I was looking at with Florence. "If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up." "Anna," he said, calling me by my nickname, which he hardly ever did. "Whitney just returned to the country and is only just finding her footing back here. Don't you work at a company listed in Fortune Global 500? Can you put in a good word for

Damien “Jesus Christ, Damien, you’re disgusting,” I muttered, but I didn’t put them back. Instead I sat down heavy on the bed again and brought the fabric up to my face. I took a long sniff, deep and slow, and his smell hit me like a punch. Sweat and that faint soap he used and something warmer, more him. My dick twitched in my jeans just from that. Pathetic. I laughed at myself, short and mean. “Look at you. Got slapped, called Satan, and now you’re sniffing his dirty undies like some creep in a movie. Real winner.”

I cry out, my back arching off the couch as waves of ecstasy crash over me. My pussy spasms, coating my hand in slick heat, my clit throbbing under my thumb. I bite my lip hard, moaning his name over and over—“Kaleb, oh fuck, Kaleb”—as stars burst behind my eyelids. It’s intense, shattering, better than anything my ex ever gave me. Hell, better than anything I’ve given myself before tuning into his show. When I come back to reality, panting shakily, I realize the show is over already. I pull my hand from my soaked panties and bring them to my lips, tasting myself—salty-sweet, a reminder of how thoroughly he’s undone me without even knowing.

"Oh, right. The remodeling contractor is coming by today to sign the contract. Make sure you have the 150 thousand dollars ready. We can't put off remodeling our future home." 150 thousand dollars? The number blared in my head like an alarm. I turned toward the phone on the nightstand on autopilot. October 30th, 2064. 8:17 am. My stomach dropped. The date, the time, Leo's words, even the look on his face, were exactly the same as that day burned into my memory. October 30th, 2064, was the day before the zombie outbreak. It was also the day Leo used "remodeling our future home" as an excuse to bleed my savings dry.

Inside a cramped apartment on the edge of the industrial district, Penelope Sterling sat on a faded sofa, staring in horror at the blaring television screen broadcasting her embezzlement receipts. "No... no!" Penelope shrieked, clawing at her hair. "How did she get those receipts?!" Dominic Thorne stood in the shadowed doorway of the kitchen. He was unwashed, his suit wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot and sunken. "Dominic!" Penelope cried. "Call your family's offshore brokers! Clear my name!" Dominic shoved her hard onto the sofa. "My family's firm is in bankruptcy! Vance froze my personal accounts this morning! I don't have a broker, Penelope I don't even have enough cash to leave the country!"