Dirty Curve Novels & Stories

He wiped his eyes and brush off the thought. It was finally morning so he walked into the bathroom to take his bath when he finished he walked to the mirror to arrange his hair nicely, but the image he saw in the mirror shocked him to the bones, his looks has changed he was no longer skinny and bone looking like before. His skin is now smooth, his blond hair was now curly. His chest was now more mature and more muscular. He raised his palm and massage his face slowly,

“Take it like that. Let me feel this pregnant cunt squeeze me.” His pace stayed controlled but grew heavier. The table rocked. The wet sounds turned filthier—thicker, louder, the unmistakable noise of a cock working in and out of a thoroughly soaked pussy. I could feel every ridge, every pulse, every time he bottomed out and stayed there for a second just to grind.

His fingers dug into the stone floor, his breathing ragged. “Magnus!” Aria tried to get closer, but Derek pulled her back. Then Magnus looked up, and her heart nearly stopped. His irises were no longer their usual shade. They burned with unnatural black and violet hues, swirling like a storm. His skin darkened in places, veins pulsating beneath the surface. It wasn’t just corruption. It was becoming him. Derek unsheathed his sword. “Magnus, fight it.” Magnus’s head tilted slightly, his expression eerily blank. “Fight what?” His voice sounded layered—his own, but with something else beneath it. Something deeper.

not like this. To Be Continued...

IRIS “Meet your new brother.” “What?” No, no, no, I might be dreaming. This is not true. “Jade, you’re here!” Mr.Daves suddenly showed himself and greeted us with the biggest smile I have ever seen from him. He was, like Sage, wearing a white shirt filled with blue and purple paint. “I’m so sorry, had you been waiting long? We were doing last minute customization of your rooms. We have specially colored them according to your names, I hope you’ll like—Oh!” Mr.Daves couldn’t continue his words when Skye suddenly ran up to him and embraced him.

Chic, sedate and streamlined. Mirrie, by direct and jarring contrast, was like an explosion of color: on her body, her hair, her face. Her hair was bright pink, her eyes and lips were slathered in enthusiastic dark makeup, her face was covered in piercings – eyebrow, nose, cheek, lip – and she had a sprawling neck tattoo. Her clothes were a fashion nightmare of clashing colors and patterns.

" I hummed, somewhat understanding what he was saying. "Anything else I can clear up?" Cain asked. I thought about it for a moment. "Why do your eyes get so dark?" I asked him. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "It's not very pretty, is it?" he asked. "That's not what l asked," I said.

"This isn't fair on anyone though, and I can't help but think his temper is due to other influences. But whatever. No one deserves this crap." He pulled out one of the tattered journals, glancing with some interest at the sketches of odd plants and updated charts that had been stuffed between the pages. "I wish I'd had these when I'd been studying geography," he muttered with a thin smile. "I would have aced it instead of getting a C minus. Well, whatever." He looked over the impressive graphs for a few minutes before setting them carefully aside and turning his attention to the cursive script. "A dark rider...a sense of dread..."

In one of the buds, a tiny almost invisible marking was made in black A small cursive ‘K’ My stomach dropped. NO. To be continued.......

"Come closer Alex." "Sir?" "Come closer," He repeated slowly. Alex took a step forward. "Closer." Another step. "Closer Alex don't make me come to you." Alex took a deep sigh and walked towards him. "Now, look at my face, tell me what you see?" Alex actually saw a lot of things, eyebrows he found too bushy, mustard at his chin and whatever whitish substance was at his moustache. "Anger," Alex murmured. "Louder!"