Fiction Addiction Novels & Stories

"He runs the bar I work, um, worked at. He fired me, over the telephone, after I couldn't come into work for a week after he raped me." Michael took the Magnum back from Julia. "Is that right? Well, let's see if Mickey can die in this dream." He pulled the trigger. Mickey let out a shriek, throwing his hands in front of his face... and then evaporated into nothingness right in front of them. "He woke up," Julia said. "Well this won't be the last that creep sees of me," Michael replied.

Inside my body is growing too warm and down my legs, my virgin pussy becomes wet. "She understands," Tyler says and they burst out laughing like three Musketeers. Having fun at my detriment. "Come," Tyler takes my forearm and removes me from the door to open it, leading me outside the diner. By the time we are in front of my door, I am shaking, still unable to utter a word. I am planning to run inside and lock them out. Little did I know that they have their plans. "Open the door, kitty," Tyler commands. "I-I am tired from the trip," I sputter. "Can I go to bed now...brothers?"

was some kind of campus Casanova, a mysterious god of sex who’d seen it all, done it twice, and written the manual. The truth was, I was a fraud. A beautiful, well-structured, grammatically perfect fraud. I was a virgin whose only sexual experience was the chafing on his own dick and the bitter taste of his own cum. Lately, the stories were getting harder to write. The well was running dry, and my own hand was getting tired. I was recycling my own pathetic fantasies, and they were getting stale. The latest comments on the magazine’s online forum were a public execution. ‘The author is obviously a virgin. Total turn-off.’ That one line had burned itself onto the inside of my eyelids. They kne

“And you wanted me to notice.” “Yes.” He hooked his fingers into her thong and dragged it down her thighs, letting it pool at her ankles. Cool air hit her soaked pussy. He groaned softly. “Look at you. Dripping down your legs already.” One thick finger traced her seam, gathering wetness, then pushed inside without warning. She moaned, pushing back. He added a second finger, pumping slow and deep, curling to hit that spot that made her knees buckle. “You’ve been fantasizing about this, haven’t you?” he said against her ear, leaning over her. “About me bending you over my desk and fucking you raw while the campus walks by outside.”

“I can’t believe you actually read this shit. It’s fucking hilarious. This dude just came like five times inside this chick, like right in a row. In what universe is that even believable?” Oh my God, of course he’d found a sex scene of all things. “It’s fiction,” I argued defensively as I yanked my Kindle from his hand. “I like it a little bit unbelievable. That’s why I read it, you moron. To escape the real world. If I wanted believable, I’d just stop reading and return to my life.” “Yeah, but she called his dick a meat shaft.” “Oh my God.” I scowled. “You’re one of those annoying people who quibble over every little detail in a book, aren’t you?”

“Bless you, someone submitted their fantasy for your consideration. Pretend you didn’t see the names. If you let it through, the editor will ask them to change it.” Zach returned to his computer with no enthusiasm. It was good to know that they wouldn’t allow a thinly veiled fiction fantasy involving their CEO be published in its original state. Due to the poor quality of the writing, he was able to reject it quickly without any other consideration. It would be awkward for him if a story about an intern and an obvious Darien character having sex got to the publishing stage. It was too on the nose for his situation. Not that Darien would want to sleep with him though.

Each song is healing. I write in the mornings. At the kitchen table with coffee and notebooks. Fiction at first. Made-up stories about made-up people. But slowly, the truth creeps in. Our truth. The bond. The trauma. The survival. "Are you writing about us?" Lucian asks one morning, reading over my shoulder. "Fictionalized. Changed names. Different setting." I bite my lip. "Is that okay?" "It's your story too. Write it however you need to."

“It is fiction. These characters must have fantasised about having foreplay and sex like this, so in their mind, they have created the person that doesn’t exist and accept whatever happens afterwards with character growth.” Hayden sat up and looked at me, his gaze intense. “But doesn’t it feel wrong in some way? What if we had first met, and I thought of you as some maid and you thought of me as that stable boy?” “It’s not about us. That is fiction—” “Would you have been thrilled to have sex with me if I had introduced myself as a Navy Seal as soon as we started talking?” No, I would have run away. “Well, of course.” I asked, “Would you have been thrilled to have sex with me if I had introdu

All the characters, places, ideas or events mentioned in this book are purely fiction and does not relate to any living or dead. The story settings and other elements are purely my imagination and fictional. Most of the concept about Heaven and Hell are based on Buddhism and Christianity. The genre of the story is fantasty romance so there will mentions of supernatural creatures and magic. Stealing of my work/any idea will serve you severe punishment as plagiarism is a serious crime. Any illegal reproduction of this content in any form will result in immediate action against the person concerned.

My pussy clenched uselessly around the speculum and his fingers, leaking even more slick down my ass crack onto the table. “Not yet,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “You are not coming until I decide the treatment has worked. Describe another fantasy. Make it dirtier this time.” I whined loud, my hips trying to grind against nothing while he kept me pinned and stretched open. “God, okay, okay. I fantasize about you inviting other doctors in to watch while you finger me like this and make me squirt all over the table. “ “I want them to see how much of a dripping slut I am for your hands. “