Novel & Cerita Great Short Stories

One unforgettable summer had taught us how to stay. Some love stories begin with sparks. Ours began with years of waiting, quiet persistence, and one extraordinary summer that changed everything. And this time, we knew we were exactly where we were meant to be. The End.

I yelped, then pushed back into his hand, whimpering like an animal. “You’ve been teasing me for years,” he growled, spanking me again, then again. “Walking around this apartment in those tiny sleep shorts that barely cover your ass. Bending over to pick things up just to make my dick twitch. Calling me Mr. Cole like it was innocent while you soaked your panties every single time.” Another hard spank. My ass was burning deliciously now. I knew it would be red and marked tomorrow.

I smile at my daughter and say, “Over medium, please.” Then she looks at Gabriel, fighting a smile. “Can you eat better than you can dance?” The girls erupt into laughter, and Gabriel holds his hands up in defeat. “Look at it this way, ladies: I gave you a great story.” Britanya looks between me and Gabriel and winks. “Doesn’t seem like the story’s over.”

The Story of Russell and Samantha: NOTE, THIS EPISODE IS TAKEN FROM 'NOT YOUR AVERAGE GEEK', A STORY BY THE SAME AUTHOR CURRENTLY LEFT ON-HOLD. ***** I woke up drenched in sweat. It's almost November, yet California weather is as always; unpredictable.

Swastik said "wait a second what is with this ms.Fireball? Her name is Manyata." Kashvi said with a confusing face "that you should ask your brother what he was doing yesterday." Manyata said "it's a short story but I won't tell you. Just know that your friend know me from yesterday and I know her. Not face to face but we know each other." Swastik said with a shrugg "what does it mean?" Ashvi asked "nothing. Leave it I'm not in the mood. We have more lectures to attend," Manyata said

Speechless all I could do was stand there and stare at her pussy while the front of my shorts started tenting out. Even when she reached up and told me to help her up I couldn't stop staring. That's when it finally dawned on her what I was looking at. She closed her legs and asked me to help her again, only this time I noticed that her eyes were glued to the front of my shorts and she had a funny look on her face. Reaching down I helped her to her feet but pulled too hard causing her to slam into me. Instinctively I wrapped my arms around her waist to steady her. We both felt my cock pressing into her at the same time.

She was looking over my shoulder at the same wall and reading some of them softly under her breath. “Hmmm, look at this one,” I said. “This person seems to have described our date last week in perfect detail.” It was a story about a woman who liked to be spanked and punished. “I like this one,” Carrie said, pointing to another. “I really think we should try and work this one into our next date.” The story was about a couple who arranged to act like strangers and meet up at a trashy bar and pick each other up. There were long descriptions about them fucking in the back of the bar as the guys playing pool watched and stroked their cues.

Chapter 1: Caught Fucking Around Trigger warning: This story is raw, gritty. It's not the kind that pets you. It will strip you off your pride like a little dirty dog, take you to your peak and punish you harder. When you're done, your pussy won't be the only thing that leaks... your master's marks will be your new tattoo, and little puppy, you'll thank him for it. Drop now if you hate dirty stories with degradation. Britanny's POV

Eighteen, broke, and desperate for a way out of her small-town boredom, Lila creates an anonymous OnlyFans account. It’s just supposed to be harmless fun faceless photos, a few flirty videos until she notices one subscriber tipping far more than the rest. His messages are bolder, more intimate, almost as if he knows her. But when Lila discovers who’s behind the screen, her world tilts into dangerous, forbidden territory and she can’t bring herself to log off.

Forbidden Pleasures Forbidden Obsession 6 Surrender I spent the day at the little corner café downtown, the one with the faded green awning and the smell of fresh pastries that somehow made the world feel normal again. Mrs. Marcy, the owner, was a plump, kind-eyed woman in her late fifties who didn’t ask too many questions. She simply handed me an apron, showed me how to work the ancient espresso machine, and told me I had “an honest face.” By the end of my shift I was exhausted in the best waytired feet, coffee stains on my shirt, and the pleasant ache of doing something ordinary.