Drunken Confessions Novels & Stories

Even though I had started to accept my feelings for him to myself, I think it’d take more time and courage for me to confess it to him, unlike the drunk part of me had given it without getting into all the other chaotic overthinking that my mind kept doing. I shook my head and looked down as I answered, “Just our dance and a little bit of our visit to Roses and Thorns. And maybe we went to a church?” I touched my temples in an exasperated gesture that I hoped he wouldn’t catch and call me out on my bullshit. I added, “And the humiliating car ride, I don’t remember if it was before the club or after. And after hearing his name, I just had this feeling that we might’ve met Jeremiah, maybe I am

CHAPTER 39 [ False Innocence ] ~TRAVIS~ I wasn’t shocked that I had been drugged. Heck, the drug test was right before my eyes. What threw me off was the person making the confession. The shy, fragile woman who had barely been able to meet my eyes at dinner had waltzed into my office and confessed her deceit.

'' The doorman began to swipe the card and asked for the card information and then when he finished charging the money, he smiled and told the girls: ''Welcome girls to Crossroads, have a great time! Charlotte heard this and smiled and looked at her friend, they both held hands and started walking inside. Being inside, Charlotte let go of her friend's hand and began to see the whole place a little surprised, because there were red LED lights everywhere, plus there was an area where the DJ played and it was decorated in a very dark and elegant way, the place was big but cozy, had a bar where they served and delivered all the drinks, Charlotte was very excited and happy to be there when sudden

"Dani, I have completely moved on from you. It took me a while but I finally managed to do it. I can't afford to go to that deep hole you left me in. For the sake of our friendship, let's strictly be friends. Nothing more." But I'm horny. And I'm drunk. Trust me, horny and drunk is the worst combination. The worst part about it is when you have no husband or boyfriend to fùck. I have neither. I was hoping that Nate could help me out in that sector but he just rejected me. I feel worthless and ugly and unattractive. Fùck this pregnancy! It gives me horrible hormones that not only make me so horny but also so ugly. "I'm drunk." I stand from the couch. "I think I should get some sleep.

I kept abusing him, asking my supposed driver to help me in abusing him. I ranted on, revealing secrets I’d never shared aloud before, my voice cracking with each confession. Damon just sat beside me, said nothing, only listened. But his eyes… his eyes were too familiar, though alcohol wouldn’t let me know. My words tumbled on, unaware of who was truly hearing them. Eventually, exhaustion pulled me under. My head lolled to the side, and I drifted into a heavy, alcohol-fueled sleep.

All my wooziness was gone watching my girlfriend being mauled by her best friend. " she is drunken flirt when she gets too intoxicated with alcohol " she told me , then frowning at Conan , she explained" she told me that since someone didn't want her , she might try a new toy tonight " I swear I had never seen Conan go stiff that fast " so I dragged her away , I don't want her making any drunken mistake and I have a sick suspicion that if she really did that, the guy would find himself packed and couriered to the middle of Africa "

I tried to peek at the other side but all I could see was his shadow through the screen. "I'll tell you what I did right before I came to this town," I whispered. "I had a client that asked for me privately for a lap dance. He ended up fucking me, spreading my legs, and pinning me down... but it was still not enough. I need more. I want more." "Tannie..." his voice sounded strained and dangerously tight. "What you are doing is dangerous for your soul." "Maybe," I smirked, laughing slightly. "But I have one more confession, Father. And it's about you."

“Give it back to me, Jacob.” He fiercely shook his head. “No” I narrowed my eyes at him with my eyebrows almost meeting. “I'm not yet drunk, Jacob.” “You can't drink too much.” “Why not?!” “Because I said so.” Slowly, the emotion in my eyes faded. I laughed without a humor. “Men are control freak. You're no different from Dylan.” His jaw clenched, and I just noticed the redness for his face, probably because of the liquor he drank. “I am different from him, Samantha.”

I ask him and he seems to stutter a moment, thinking of what lie he is going to spin. “My other investors are silent. They trust me to run things. Besides, everyone knows you give the pretty girls drinks to get the big spenders into a club.” “I didn’t know that.” I sip my drink through the itty bitty straw and slide a little bit away from him. He slides closer and his smell wafts over with the movement. An evil combination of cologne, marijuana, and desperation. I stuck the lime wedge in my mouth and sucked to fight the wave of nausea.

The dried wax that clung to the edge of my ribs. And the collar. I ran my fingers across it feeling not restrained, but claimed. Underneath the pillow, I found another card. Rest. Breathe. You're not broken. You're opened. When you're ready, write your next confession. There were no flowers. No demands. Just space. And the echo of everything we’d shared. Somewhere between heat and silence, I smiled. Because I wasn’t just a submissive anymore. I was a story unfolding. One confession at a time.