Feels Book Novels & Stories

Octavia found my lips again and that lukewarm sleek tongue slipped in and took its place alongside mine. I wasn't sure if I could resist not to let her take me. The feeling of leaking sensation from my heated walls made my body scream ready. Her hips bumped into me as she got between my legs. The bookshelf shook a little with our synergized force when our bodies moved feverishly. Octavia's golden eyes blazed while she was tonguing inside my startled but over-joyful mouth. We moaned at the heat of our fierce embrace. Suddenly, my eyes caught a glimpse of a golden spine of an antique-looking book. It was placed behind the other books and at the far back of the shelf. I had a strange feeling tu

Brianna suddenly felt the urge to drink so started her search for a bar. Her heart felt so heavy. She was shattered beyond imagination. She felt like there was a knot in her chest because the hurt she feel was just too much. She tried so hard to hold the tears but she couldn't help it. She suddenly stopped abruptly in the middle of the street and wailed loudly that everyone couldn't help but stare. She bent down after a while because her legs felt so weak and buried her head in her hands. She cried so much till she was tired of crying before she continued her bar haunting.

The little old librarian with white curly hair, rimmed spectacles, and flowery dress smiles at me warmly across the tables when I pass her by and leaves me to browse. I must admit, I love the smell and aura of ancient books, the feeling of being surrounded by old, treasured pages. Back home my own library is my favourite place to spend time. Books retain some sort of presence from past readers, and it can be felt in the air all around me because I’m sensitive to energy vibrations in all things, be they living or not. A warm familiar sensation comes from books, like a gentle breeze on a hot day, or a soothing hug when you need it most, and that relaxes me. It’s because books are beloved thing

It seems to be another language entirely. As I was about to place the book back on the desk, a strange sensation rippled through my body. It was as if an invisible force was tugging at me, urging me not to let go of the book. I tried to shake it off, but the feeling only intensified. It was like a whisper in my ear, telling me to keep the book close and not to let it out of my sight.

‘’Whatever you want to currently explain how you feel about things, go right ahead. Amelia's smile was sincere. ”I like it,” she replied. ‘I understand that it has only been one day that we have been seeing one another, but it feels like I have found the one.' Margaret shook her head in accord, and there was mischief in her eyes. “I had the same feeling when I first got a job at a bookstore; something is enchanting about being surrounded by books." Amelia also joined in the closing activities, which included the restacking of the books and putting back any book that was out of place into its appropriate location.

I felt as if my whole body now was in a state of high sensitivity. Lucas let go of my breasts. I felt his hands on my legs now. Every touch now made me shiver. His hands sliding along my thighs made me have goosebumps all over. I suddenly caught myself thinking I wanted him to touch my pussy. I felt so sensitive. I focused on my pussy and realized it was already wet. I moaned, hoping Tom would pick up the signal. His hands kept going up, caressing my thighs, reaching my soaking wet pussy, almost touching it, then going back down to my thighs.

Nothing felt right. Damon helped bring over more books, setting them down one by one, his patience admirable but even he started to look tired after a while. Just when I was about to give up, something caught my eye. One book stood out. It wasn’t the brightest or the biggest, but something about it… pulled me in. I stood up, my feet moving on their own as if I was being drawn toward it. Reaching out, I let my fingers brush against the worn cover. The moment I touched it, a strange warmth buzzed through my skin.

she said, already shoving a cart toward me. I fell into the familiar rhythm—open box, shelve books, restock displays. My body remembered how to do this even if my mind was frayed. But then the impressions started slipping in. Not voices. Not words. Just… emotions. Annoyance from the guy complaining loudly on his phone. Melancholy from the older woman browsing poetry. Stress rolling off a teenager scanning the exam guidebooks. Each feeling brushed against my awareness like dust on skin. “Not yours,” I whispered. “Let go.”

The words written there looked rushed, almost messy, like whoever wrote them was confused and scared. “Why do I feel different from humans?” “Why do I crave blood?” “Why do I feel like tearing human flesh apart?” “Why do I feel like an animal?” “Why is it that anytime I see the full moon, my whole body starts vibrating?” “Why do I wake up feeling like I went somewhere… like I fought someone… like I ate humans?” The last line was written bigger than the others. “What am I?” The moment my eyes finished reading those words, the book slipped from my hands.

Eva It’s my first time in the library, and I don’t think I was prepared for how it would feel. The air is thick with the scent of old paper and ink, something dry and ancient that settles into my lungs and wraps around me, musty, earthy and strangely comforting. Shelves stretch endlessly, towering and packed with books that looks like they’ve been here for centuries. Silence covers the entire hall, broken only by the occasional rustle of a book's page open on the table by the window or the distant creak of wooden shelves. There’s a serenity here that felt almost sacred, urging you to just stay calm and blend into the peacefulness.