Dirty Story Novels & Stories

I don't know why I am here or what is going on. Erza looks at Roman; he steps away from me and leans against the wall. Ezra then turns his attention to me. "Your father took a lot of money from me, and now he is in jail. Your father is going to prison for a very long time because of his bad deal with that shady lawyer. Now my money is gone. I am sure Mr. David has it, but I will never see it," Ezra says, his words are stern and harsh.

Jessica asked, stepping closer to the desk, her glass of scotch temporarily forgotten as her eyes scanned the scandalous, highly toxic headlines flashing on the screen. "This is an untraceable, massive media leak," Vanessa whispered. Her eyes narrowed into two lethal slits, reflecting the cold blue light of the tablet screen. "It doesn't matter if Dr. Aris's official affidavit is thrown out of court by Adrian's judges. Tomorrow morning, every single major financial investor, every retail trader, and every Wall Street analyst is going to wake up to a beautifully coordinated, devastating rumor. We are going to leak a highly detailed, falsified medical history claiming that Lydia Hart is suffer

This time, she sat. The leather was expensive. Everything in this room probably costs more than her monthly salary. Adrian took his seat across from her and slid a thick folder across the desk. “What’s that?” she asked. “Your lifeline.” She opened it cautiously. Legal language greeted her. Dense. Precise. Intimidating. “NDA?” she asked. “Yes.” “Plural?” “Yes.” She flipped pages, eyes widening. “Non-disclosure, non-disparagement, media conduct—are you serious?”

Now, a little more about what happened last night. As you read in Maddie's first chapter, we discovered something that rocked our worlds collectively. We found out through dumb luck that our mom is a stripper. Now, don't get me wrong. She's not your run-of-the-mill "pole dancer". In fact, she never once used a pole for her performance. No, quite the contrary.

He was not in the mood for questions. What was with the paparazzi? "Miss Lawrence died of a stroke due to the accident. Any article making unfounded claim or claims will be sued for defamation. Please go away." Monica said, her voice high and assertive. David stood on the fourth floor watching everything that was happening; watching how Monica yellow heels connected the floor, how nonchalant, drained and moody Daniel seemed to things around him. Immediately Daniel got to his office he started breaking and scattering everything on his table in annoyance, muttering some incoherent words.

I never really bought into fairy tales; those stories seemed too good to be true. After losing my parents, I realized everything has its expiration date. The impending end of my relationship with Mario is almost palpable. Despite the chaos brewing, my feet stay firmly planted on the ground. Now, about that mysterious note – being at the Princetons’, I figure they’ve probably left one at my house. The thought makes my heart skip a beat. “Who’s trying to blackmail me?” I type on my notes app with determination.

Unice said, and I lifted Unice's thighs as my sperm dripped out of her pussy while my dick was still inside her. "I'll take care of that," I responded, picking up a tissue from the car. I took my dick from her pussy, and the sperm immediately spilled from her pussy; she touched the hem of her dress, and I cleaned the sperm from her pussy. "It's okay now," I murmured, and she stared at me and put on her underwear. "I'll just take time to rest, but what we did was unsafe, and Max saw us," Unice said, her face flushed as I scratched my head and smiled.

I whisper, looking straight down at my lap. How can my tongue ever tell his noble ears about this dirty shame? How can my voice confess to the highest alpha in the territory that my young body sold its virgin heat for gold resources? I don't know how many secret surveillance photos this blackmailer holds in their claws. My soul is so scared that my dirty history from the Duskwild Expanse will get leaked to the entire pack. Especially if his eyes find out...

The photos stopped being cute. The last few: Ethan alone, shirt unbuttoned, eyes heavy-lidded while straight at the camera like he knew someone would see. Like he *wanted* someone to see. Then, a tucked-away folder labeled **Archive 3** It looks vague, and was hidden between “Taxes 2024” and “Contracts Signed.” Probably business. Probably none of my business. Yet, I clicked, and the moment it opened, dozens of thumbnails loaded instantly. Men. Entwined.

Victoria didn’t handle failure well; she would blame me, and that blame would fall on my mother’s shoulders. And then there was the secret I held. I knew he was talking drugs. If I reported that to Mrs.Victoria, she would be ecstatic. She would praise me. I headed out to the main compound to clear my head, and then i saw him—Mr. Sterling. The old man was in the garden, struggling with a pair of shears. His hands were shaking, and he was hacking at a beautiful hedge with jagged, uneven strokes. "Sir, let me help you with that," I said, stepping forward.