Fizzarolli Wallpaper Phone Novels & Stories

For five years, I've played the role of Alpha Owen Winslow's secret lover. During the day, I'm his docile and humble younger adopted sister who takes good care of the entire Winslow family. At night, I lie beneath Owen's frame in bouts of passion. I've already grown accustomed to writhing my body to go along with his acts of lust. That is, until I find out that Owen has been livestreaming our lovemaking sessions to his friends this whole time. He even tells them that he'll cast me aside once he tires of me. Since he doesn't cherish my love for him, he can forget about having it ever again. As I clutch my phone tightly, I place a phone call. "Are you a lecturer at the Royal Academy? I'v

I was at the grocery store stocking up on holiday supplies when my phone suddenly pinged with a friend request. The profile picture was a scenic shot I'd casually snapped years ago, and I knew right away who it was. But we hadn't spoken in five years—total radio silence. I had no idea why Marcello Golden was popping up now, so I typed into the verification field: [What's going on?] His reply flashed up almost instantly: [I'm back. Can we meet? I have something important to tell you in person.] Something important? As I stared at those words, I found the situation both absurd and amusing. What could be so important between us after all this time? I pushed the thought aside, pulled out m

In order to see the aurora with Alexander, I began planning a year in advance. Alexander and my adopted sister had already left me behind and gone to the destination ahead of time. When I arrived, no one answered the phone. I waited for ten hours before he finally returned my call. On the phone, Evelyn laughed excitedly, "Diana! I've already explored this entire city. Alex is so mature and charming—he planned everything in advance. I'm having such a wonderful time!" She chattered away, sharing her experiences, while Alexander occasionally play along to add details. The two of them had spent the holiday blissfully together like a pair of lovebirds. It was as if neither of them had noticed o

The year was 1983. The sun had set. It was dark outside. Only one dim light was in the Foster family’s living room. “Dad, Mom, I’m willing to live abroad with you.” When they heard their daughter’s words through the phone, Philip York and Angela York were moved to tears of excitement.

On Valentine's Day, as my girlfriend, Christy Lawrence, and I stroll along a tourist hot spot, a photographer asks me, "Care to take a photo? Oh, you brought someone new again!" I brush it off as a joke, but Christy stops the photographer and says seriously, "He told me I'm his first girlfriend. How can you make up a lie like that?" The photographer snorts. "This young man here brings a different young woman with him to take a photo here every six months. I still have the photos to prove it!" He brings out his phone and shows us a photo of a couple—the man looks exactly like me. All of the surrounding tourists start eyeing me scornfully. I take my phone out and make a call. "Hello, I s

I spent three hundred dollars on a brand-new phone for my mother, only for her to start saying that the smartphone was stealing her money and that I had personally siphoned off her bank balance. I could never win the argument. So I offered to just reimburse whatever “loss” she imagined. She got even more unhappy. She slapped a stack of receipts on the table and demanded I pay up. “Where did you buy this piece of junk? It’s a ticking time bomb. Give me my money back!” Most of the receipts were for men’s sneakers and athletic wear; the rest were household basics like brooms and hangers. I felt a wave of suffocating frustration. Since when was shopping free? Why was I expected to pay for

Paige got pregnant by a bad boy in high school. Two years later, after many sacrifices and without having any contact other than phone calls, she and the father of her child reunite. Can they live together for the sake of their shared child? Can the bad boy not be so bad?

On Christmas Eve, I giddily wait for my husband, Hunter Gibson, to come home while nursing my eight-month pregnancy. Unexpectedly, Hunter bursts through the front door with his childhood friend, Winter Jones, in his arms. I attempt to help him out, only to get shoved to the floor instead. My belly bumps into a corner of the coffee table, causing pain to shoot up my nerves. Cold sweat soon beads on my forehead, and yet Hunter doesn't even spare me another glance. "Get out of my way! Someone drugged Winnie's drink at the bar! If I don't purge the poison out of her, she'll die!" As I shield my belly, I dig out my phone. "I'll call an ambulance for her—" But Hunter snatches my phone away be

After I discovered that my husband, Leonardo Marchetti, could not let go of his first love, I started teaching our daughter Sofia to call him "Uncle Leonardo." Sofia sprained her ankle at school. In the middle of the night, Leonardo got a phone call. Valentina was crying on the other end. Her daughter Lily had a nightmare and would not stop screaming for a father. Leonardo left without saying a word. I pressed an ice pack against Sofia's swollen ankle and whispered, "Say 'goodbye, Uncle Leonardo.'" Leonardo promised to come to Sofia's school sports day. Then Valentina called, sobbing that Lily had no father to run the three legged race with him. Leonardo walked out without a second thought.

"Ah... go easy, my husband is calling." My cheeks flushed bright red as I grabbed the phone and accepted the video call. On the other end, my husband, Trevor Chambers, stared intently and began rattling off a list of instructions. He was completely unaware that just out of view, a young man's head was busy nuzzling between my thighs.