Romans & histoires Exquisite Corpse Book

Aside from some old furniture, it was mostly empty now. Christina looked around slowly. Suddenly, she discovered a diary hidden in a compartment in the desk. She flipped to the first page. Her breath caught when she saw the twisted, fear-filled handwriting, and she immediately realized it was written right after Paige had been assaulted. "Why did they do that to me? I hate that man in the black jacket—the one they called Ro. The scar above his left eyebrow haunts my dreams… I don't want to live anymore, but I worry about my brother… I hate this!"

The colleague beside me asked her, “How do you know that?” Yvette smiled faintly and answered bluntly, “I never had the chance to mention it before. I am actually a corpse whisperer. I can sense the spiritual world, hear the whispers of the dead, and know what they went through in life.” In an instant, the world spun around me, and my vision went black. The scene was exactly the same as in my previous life. From that day onward, Yvette’s identity as a corpse whisperer spread like wildfire. She became a sensation.

I felt myself getting close, as if I could join those heavenly bodies up in the sky. “I saw the way you looked at my dick at Coverts,” he whispered, not letting up on his assault on my clit, his lips tracing along my jawline. “I was so hard. You had on that yellow lingerie set that glowed against your skin. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you so badly. That young dude wasn’t going to get this pussy.” With that, he moved his attention from my clit, sliding two fingers inside my hot, already-drenched pussy. He worked his fingers until they were fully coated and soaked. “But I knew it wasn’t time. I’m patient. I can wait.”

She pulled it out, sneezed once as dust motes tickled her nostrils, and lowered the book on the coffee table. The title was written in cursive gold letters, 'The Art Of The Body'. Clearly out of curiosity, she opened to the middle of the book, and her eyes nearly popped out in pure mortification. The book contained explicit diagrams of men and women in different, erotic, sexual poses.

His fingers drummed against the windowsill, the rhythm growing faster, betraying the unease he refused to name. His warriors, known for their flawless tracking skills, scoured every inch of land. Yet no matter how many warriors or hounds he sent out, they all circled back to the same place—the abandoned well. His frustration boiled over as he paced furiously around it, refusing to believe that the corpse inside was mine. Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, he snapped his fingers. "I see it now! She must've used a Burrowing Technique—that's why the hounds keep leading us here."

I felt, briefly but very distinctly, a sort of tingling sensation all over my body, like all the hairs were standing up. I folded my clothes neatly and put them on one of the chairs, feeling slightly self-conscious about standing there naked. Had it been this warm before? I expected to be a little cold, but actually it felt rather pleasant. Or was that just my imagination? I took a look around the apartment whilst I waited; at first glance the upscale, minimalist décor gave away little about it's owner. To the more experienced eye, there were a few details which stood out, tastefully-framed woodprints featuring hidden symbols, knick-knacks which only looked like generic gift-shop fodder. Nat

It’s an old leather-bound book, with a red leather cover and a gold emblem on the front, she turns it to read the spine, “The Parrot and the Hunter. Is this a children’s book or a weird shifter romance novel?” Morpheus laughs, and she sits down and opens it, “Ah, romance novel.” She taps it thoughtfully, “No pictures.” She smiles as Sol flushes and she curls up on the sofa to read, she flips through, “Oh, my apologies, there are pictures.” Sol groans as she takes in the etching of two people clearly fucking each other senseless. “Informative pictures.” Morpheus laughs hard,

She said with more sarcasm. She studied the cover and read the title out loud. "A Mother's Seduction". I felt the last of my boner disappear. If my cock had had legs, I'm sure he would have taken off and left me on the sofa alone to deal with this. "A Moth er's Se duc tion" She repeated emphasizing each syllable. She turned back to the television screen in time to see this woman, who was about her age, swallowing the boy's cock. And I do mean SWALLOWING!

A deluge of works scattered throughout the room and hours spent conjuring up concept after concept, yet nothing stuck the way I thought it would. It wasn't that I didn't love every bit of meaning and intention I had put into Femme de Sexe, but a novel inclination that I wanted more than surface-level exploration. There was a personal aspect still missing. Settling on the last piece, a book medium, I found the donation rather peculiar. The only thing that tilted the cover were the words Sine Qua Non in embroidered cursive. Sifting through the pages revealed that it was a journal filled with excerpts and prose, possibly love letters of intimacy exchanged between two people.

Then again, my life wasn’t normal. “As far as what I know about hybrids,” CLAIRE continued, “I know the brainwashing bullshit that VEXX teaches, and I know my own experiences. But I’m trying to find something in one of these books to back up any of what I think is true. We should keep at it.” Apparently, she wasn’t going to tell me her theories. I opened an ancient tome—so old that the pages were elegantly scribed by an individual rather than a machine. The artwork caught my attention first. In the section header was a drawing of a person with a wolf’s head. I read the passage below and sucked in a shallow breath.