Filthy Dirty Christmas Series Novels & Stories

such a let down. PrinceCharming: Haha I'm not a creep like Carl. I'm kinky as fuck, but not creepy. And who said anything about sex. there is a lot while you wear a dress with no panties. I can think of so many ways. Fuuuuck...sdf sdkf aasdfsdfsd LonelyGirl: Touching yourself? 💋 A few minutes went by with no answer and I thought he might have had a stroke or heart attack or just was an ass and didn't want me after all.

"Christmas, I never heard of anyone use an alias as Christmas, Duke. What does this 'Christmas' do to make us take the benefit in this case?" Duke lifted his hand and claps it once. "This is what I'm talking about. So, this Mr. Christmas is one of Klyde McMarrow's client who buys smuggled women from everywhere and then he'll auction it to them. He's this kettle looking guy, you know what I mean? Bald, short and fat, he has this annoying laugh and he's in love eating this bread wherever he goes, he has it in his pocket and much it like a 2 year old kid." Duke began with gestures he uses and is not that really necessary.

3rd January, 1999(morning) The Warehouse Lana Its a never ending circle. A repeated sequence I experience everyday, locked up in this room with little or no contact. A hollow feeling in my heart whenever I think about my family, the grief I feel whenever I remember those who died in that bloody Christmas party.

“We have already agreed to get you married to one of our good family friends, the Hawthorns. You will not disgrace us, and you will stop this nonsense and stop being selfish for once in your ungrateful life and quietly marry their oldest son, Ethan.” I could feel myself wanting to throw up when I heard the name Ethan Hawthorn. Ethan was my childhood friend and one of the biggest assholes I knew, the only thing he loved was his own reflection. He liked to fuck anything with two legs that moved and I cannot even describe how much I hated him. I would rather shoot myself than touch him with a ten-foot pole. “You have to be kidding me! You want me to marry that clown!! I would rather shoot mysel

“You two really couldn’t wait for me, huh? Started the party early.” Julian chuckled darkly, finally easing his thick length out of me with a long, obscene pop. Thick white strands of his cum immediately dripped from my swollen, puffy pussy onto the sheets below. “She’s all warmed up and sloppy for you now, son. Come take your turn. Our dirty little secret just got a whole lot more fun.” Oliver stripped fast, his shirt and shorts hitting the floor in a heap. His cock sprang free, rock-hard and already leaking at the tip, curving upward with eagerness.

“ Look at this pussy, so desperate and so weeping. Does my brother know that his innocent wife is being a good slut for me?” The degrading words didn't turn me on, if anything, they made my stomach clench and pussy throb harder. “ Roman please… I want to pee!” I screamed, something devastatingly destructive building inside me. Roman chuckled before pulling away, his fingers withdrawn making me feel empty. I groaned in protest. “ If I let you cum so fast, what's the fun in that?”

Taking himself in his hand, he jerked himself off, aiming himself down and watching as his warm cum sprayed all over their breasts. “Oh fuck.” He groaned as he rubbed himself on Janet to make sure it was all out. Maria rubbed the cum over her n*****s and crawled to face Janet. As she licked Professor Lance's cum off of Janet, and said, “I guess you will never have an F in your life again. I love you baby.”

When Marcus noticed I no longer threw myself at him and tried to touch me one night, I pushed him away coldly. “Not in the mood.” Inside, I smiled, fingering myself later while replaying Damien stretching me open. My dirty secrets made me constantly wet. I embraced the disobedience completely. I had become a filthy, disobedient queen of my own dark cravings. Embracing humiliation, fingering, and endless pleasure. Damien had no idea what he’d unleashed.

"And, this is my belated Christmas gift to you." When I accepted the license from him, I realized it was for a flower shop he'd opened for me, right in the middle of Coralsville. I hugged the license to my chest and looked at him, unaware of the tears streaming down my face. Louis scooped me into an embrace. "You're a grown woman. What's with all the tears?" he teased. As he spoke, he leaned down gently toward me. My tears melted into his kiss. … A few days later, my company notified me that the previous incident had been thoroughly investigated and that I had indeed not leaked any company data.

“You love it. The risk, the filth. Say it.” “I—I love it,” I gasped, choking on the confession as his grip on my throat tightened just enough to blur my vision. “God, Marcus, I love it. I’m your dirty slut.” Marcus only laughed, a low, cruel rumble against my ear. “Pathetic,” he growled, yanking my head up by the hair so I could see our reflection in the dark windshield. My mascara was smeared, lips swollen, spit glistening at the corner of my mouth. “Look at yourself, Charlotte. You’re a fucking mess—my filthy little whore. And you love it.”