Female Slender Man Novels & Stories

"Go on. Take good care of her." At once, ten handsome men surrounded Isolde. They were blond, blue-eyed, and built like runway models. Each had a distinct style. One looked like a disciplined elite. Another radiated wild freedom. A third carried a bright, boyish charm. Ten top male models, each different, formed a dazzling display. Before Isolde could respond, two of them guided her to the center of the sofa. The man on her left wore gold-rimmed glasses. He had the air of a refined rogue, and his hands moved with practiced ease. He applied just the right pressure as he worked the stiffness from her shoulders and neck.

"I can hardly wait for the fun you will provide me." ANDREIA "It is time to close." The dry voice made me squeeze my shot glass of tequila briefly. If I were in my best shape, and my vision wasn't doubled, I am sure the glass would have broken. I looked at the guy: a short young man in a dress shirt and jeans. His hair was black, perfectly slicked back with a lot of gel, his eyes were a dull blue, and he had a small nose. The guy was too pale; not in a handsome way, but sickly. If I liked his type, this guy would be in the cute category, but not fuckable.

"I'm not looking for some sixteen-year-old claiming to be fourteen. I want the real thing." "You can choose, sir. Whatever you want. All ages. Both sexes. Local, foreign, Western, Asian, blond, dark. You name it. You'll find it." "How young?" says one of them. He's got that seedy hue that comes from spending too much time indoors bending over a screen. Probably dick-less and can't pull an actual woman... "As young as you want, sir." Dickless leans back and sighs. "Great. I want it really tight when I..."

She opened her mouth wide, but like before, and she couldn't make a sound. "Older sister." The man also sat up; half of his body showed off his healthy antique bronze skin, and his face showed signs of a hybrid, extremely handsome, compared to the model on TV, not inferior at all, but now he is a man. She doesn't know either, just instinctively wanting to keep this warm part. Demi Moore pursed her lips and patted him on the shoulder, but the man seemed to understand something, a little nervously sitting on the bed.

It is sweet and awesomely great I must confess! One thing I love Mr Lee for is that he knows how to do it like crazy! And that is the reason every woman who comes his way wants to get some more from him. They find it so hard for them to stop each time they begin, and also... they don't want him to stop at any time, but to continue fucking and fucking till their pussies get torn to the extent of needing a doctor to do the magic of stitching it for them! When it even get to such a stage, just know that, that man is a crazy fucking horse! A horse who does not have an iota of pity for his woman whenever they are fucking. Such a man can fuck for hours without feeling tired!

This man can be described as beautiful rather than handsome. Delicate rather than sturdy. Like a small flower that is extremely fragile to the breeze and rain. This man is strenuous rather than graceful. His long black hair in braid sways in his every movement. His wide and long sleeves flap in the air that almost look like a pair of wings. He runs and runs and runs. But why is this man running? Well... that is because not lesser than ten ladies are running after him. "Who's that young man?" "He's so gorgeous."

a man called, his voice thick with amusement. Christiana turned her head slightly, her lips curving into a smile. The man before her was in his mid-forties, overweight, and dressed in a navy-blue suit that strained around his waist. His body was smelling of whiskey and smoke as he spoke to her. "You look so sexy," he murmured, licking his lips as if she were a meal he was about to devour. "How much for a night?" Christiana scratched her head in amusement.

Inside, I’m greeted by a sight that’s completely out of place in the sterile halls of Nexus Global—a man bursting with life, noise, and energy. “Jayden!” his deep voice calls out, and before I know what’s happening, the tall, dark-haired man with an easy smile strides toward us. He’s impeccably dressed with Italian flair—collar open, cuffs casually rolled. He’s not just moving—he’s gliding, like he’s floating on charm alone. He is built and everything he wears outlines every… bulge…perfectly. And yes, my ovaries just exploded. This man is sex on a stick. I’m a happily married woman, but…phew, I am definitely picking up what he’s putting down.

The man had a singlet on and a pair of joggers, which hung dangerously on his waist, revealing his deep V-line, which would make any lady crazy, thinking of running their hands through it. So this was what Elena had been enjoying by herself all this time. Wow. I couldn't help but gasp, my eyes roaming around his body.

didn't struggle like most women who pretend to resist and then weaken under the erotic mix. Obviously, the figure before me is clearly a man. He was mature and had a body that was well-proportioned among metrosexuals. His muscle bulges were not as big as a body builder's, but they were something to be proud of in front of the women who were his frequent customers. "Why is this still reacting?" I asked after managing to drop him on the bed and grabbing the tension in front of my face. Yes, the tantalizing shape of the half-arm-length club was leaking its transparent lubricant at the tip. It was a little salty to the tongue, but I loved his sexy moans.