Divine Beauty Novels & Stories

"Does riding a horse feel good for you, Lola?" My pal's daughter, Lola Ramirez, is currently kneeling on all fours on the floor in a skimpy school uniform with her ass bucked high in the air. Meanwhile, I mount her from behind with my hands tugging on her twintails while I thrust into her rapidly. Lola's father, on the other hand, is still playing poker in the room next to ours.

I start dating Samuel Nelson, who's known for being a playboy. Everyone thinks I'm hopelessly in love with him. When he skips class to fight, I take notes for him. When he flirts with others, I cover for him. I spent three years as the pushover who grovels at his feet. I pour my heart and soul into helping him get into a top college, but just before the semester starts, he dumps me. He says haughtily, "I know you've liked me for a long time, but you always have your head buried in books. Compared to Anna, you're far too dull and uptight. "Let's break up. I want to be with Anna instead." Everyone waits to see me have an emotional meltdown. However, I simply check the 50 million that has been transferred to my bank account and reply earnestly, "Sure. I wish you two the best." No one knows that I only devoted myself fully to being Samuel's girlfriend because his mother offered me far too much money to refuse. Now that I have the money, even if he didn't dump me, I would've dumped him myself.

"Ahh… I feel so itchy… I really want you…" I'm bunking in a compartment on a train that's heading back to my hometown for the holidays. It seems that the gorgeous young woman sleeping on the bunk bed below mine is starting to sleepwalk. Her legs are parted, and she keeps writhing about on the bed. I've always longed to have a taste of her. Since she's having a wet dream right now, I decide to climb onto her bed…

Jenny Shaw, my roommate and belle of the campus, had been stealing my skincare products for four whole years. She even used them to fake a wealthy and beautiful persona, becoming a million-follower influencer and bagging a wealthy heir. Right before our graduation defense, her face suddenly erupted in severe lesions, completely disfigured. Jenny immediately accused me, claiming that I was jealous and vicious enough to lace the skincare products with poison! In an instant, I was branded online as the Poison Queen and a dangerous figure. Facing the police, I simply smiled at them and showed them my thesis. [Molecular Deconstruction Analysis of Herbal Medicinal Materials: Skin Regeneration and Reconstruction.] "Poisoning you? That's like a pot calling the kettle black. But thanks for providing me with experimental data!"

The most popular girl in school, Mona Culver, could only apply for the city's worst community college because of her poor school results. My childhood friend, James Holden, got our entire class to fill out application forms for community college too. It was his attempt to negotiate with Northrind University's admissions department to make an exception for Mona to study there. The top thirty students in the city shared pictures of their amended application forms to community college. Back in my past lifetime, I tried my best to talk them out of it. The application submission deadline was the next day, and no amendments would be allowed after that. If they wasted their time threatening Northrind by applying to community college, and the deadline passed, nothing could be done to change the results, even if they were the city's top thirty students. Their dreams of attending an Ivy League school would be quashed after ten years of hard work, and no one knew what their future would hold after that. James got angry and berated me, "You're just afraid Mona will be better than you once we start classes at Northrind. Stop pretending like you're doing this for us!" The rest of my classmates were also upset with me, and they turned their fury on me. "Our high school results mean nothing. With our abilities, we would still be able to attend Northrind next year if we repeat the year. You should just mind your own business!" We had been classmates for three years, and I could not let them compromise their futures. I informed our principal and their parents of their plans, and their application forms were amended. I managed to stop them from threatening Northrind's admissions department. All of them were accepted by Northrind in the end, and they became elites in their respective industries with bright futures ahead. Mona ended up getting pregnant with a thug's child while in community college, and she suffered from both physical and mental issues. She fell into deep depression and even attempted suicide several times. James broke down when he learned the truth, and he blamed it all on me. He worked with our classmates to fabricate evidence that I committed plagiarism, and they poisoned my drink. Even my parents were burned to death by a patient from a mental hospital. When I was reborn into this lifetime, I saw James change our group chat's name into 'Fight for True Love! Let's Go to Northrind Together!' I left the group without hesitation and blocked everyone's numbers.

An accident occurred during my graduation trip, causing me to get my left leg amputated. Surprisingly enough, Britney Lambert, the campus belle whom I had a crush on, proposed to me afterward. We were married for the next 30 years. Throughout our marriage, we respected and concerned each other properly. Before I passed away, I found out that all 199 love letters that I had written were thrown into the trash pile. Meanwhile, Britney kept the love letters another person had sent her in a safe. Obviously, she treated those letters like her most cherished treasure. When my illness took a turn for the worse, I could only lie on my sickbed with one foot in my grave. Britney arrived at my ward later than usual. Before I closed my eyes, I heard the final words she uttered to me. "Next time, don't save me anymore." I finally understood her real feelings for me. She'd rather die than be with me, it seemed. When I wake up again, I've returned to the timeframe before the graduation trip starts. This time, I decide not to have anything to do with Britney. We shall be strangers in this lifetime. But when the accident occurs once again, Britney is the one rushing toward me. "It's my turn to save you now."

On a packed bus heading toward a college, bodies were pressed together so tightly it was hard to move. I deliberately leaned against a delicate, sweet-looking freshman. She was wearing a short plaid skirt. I hitched the fabric up and pressed myself against her curvy hip. What caught me off guard was her underwear. There was a small hole worn into the fabric, as if she were already overcome. Just as I was about to lose control, I pulled back at the last second. However, she held me there tightly and said, “Mister, don’t stop. Keep going.”

"Hey Jerry, that's my daughter! Where do you think you're touching?" My colleague, Jerry Steele, has had too much to drink in the bar. He's mistaken my daughter, Maya Glover, for an escort of the bar. His hand keeps roaming across her thighs. At one point, he almost reaches up her skirt to touch her. What's crazy is that Maya seems to enjoy the way Jerry touches her, based on how horny she seems. Then, I look at Jerry's daughter, Lucinda Steele. Her chest is so big that her top is about to burst from the pressure. In that case, don't blame me for what I'm about to do to your daughter, Jerry!

"I'm sorry, Harold! I won't come to the bar ever again… Ah, you can't touch me there…" A drunk, beautiful woman clad in a pair of black stockings can be seen at the entrance of a bar at midnight. Since she's lying on the sidewalk, her white panties are all exposed. Elated, I stick my hand beneath her skirt. Little do I know that the woman, Crystal Conley, has mistaken me for her sugar daddy, Harold Townsend, and thinks that I'm here to teach her a lesson. She's so petrified that she dares not move a muscle. I use the opportunity to part her legs and pin her down hungrily. Poor Crystal shrieks in fright, "How could you punish me like this, Harold?"

The day before the semester began, my childhood friend Daniel Carter asked if he could borrow my private jet. Thinking he'd finally changed his ways, I agreed without a second thought. A moment later, he transferred a single dollar, calling it rent because he couldn't stand the thought of freeloading. The quirky amount said more than words ever could. I smiled and accepted it. On the first day of school, I kept things low-key, taking a cab back to campus. But when I arrived, there it was, my private jet parked right in the middle of the quad. The jet had been decked out in bubblegum pink, and students crowded around, their eyes shining with envy. My heart leapt. For once, I thought Daniel had finally figured it out. Beaming, I braced myself for his surprise. But as I drew closer, my smile froze. Sitting barefoot in the pilot's seat, my seat, was Clara West, the campus' queen bee.