Hot Little Women Novels & Stories

“Hi, someone’s stalking me. They sent me texts and I heard a woman laugh in my bathroom.” They’d think I was crazy. Or high. I lowered the phone, defeated. That’s when a new message came in. Unknown: You look so pretty when you’re scared, Luna 💕 That little gasp you just made? Fucking adorable. My knees went weak. I dropped onto my bed, staring at the screen in horror. This wasn’t a man. The way she wrote… the little heart… the soft giggle I’d heard. It was a woman. A woman had been watching me. A woman had been inside my apartment. A woman was obsessed with me.

The mafia's hacker princess prequel Rita's POV It's hot in here. The crowd is buzzing with so much sexual energy that it feels like if you breathe in, you will be taking in pure desire into your system. Whipping my hair over my shoulder to show off my outfit properly, I smile and take a few steps forward to the front stage so they can see me under the neon lights. I move my hot body to the rhythm of the song playing right now, it's a slow and dirty song that sets the mood for sex, adding more tension to the already heavy atmosphere.

I could not believe that she had stood me up. I wandered around, got something to drink and had some food. There was not a lot of sex or anything going on for a lesbian orgy. Two girls were kind of making out on the couch, but they had their clothes on. There was one of those soft-focus DVDs on the TV, the kind where the actresses actually have their own breasts and do a lot of bumping into each other to music with a lot of bass. Not the kind where you see everything. I moved out onto the balcony. It had a wonderful view of the campus and part of downtown. I was a little cold in the fall air, but I liked being cold more than the idea of going back in there to get my coat.

Anything to make her feel less like a chunky miniature lost at an adult function. Casually she stole a look at her watch. Eight thirty. Should she find some way to signal people the party was over? Sam and Loraine weren't so young anymore and these functions were always grueling for them. She loved her job and the Harrises treated her like family, which made her take a more personal interest in their welfare. Serving as director of The Harris Foundation filled her days and nights.

It was an odd sight when all the women gained fame inside the country were because of their demure, innocent, and soft features. White lotus women were after all what most men wanted after living off their lives facing a harsh competitive environment. It’s already taunting enough she was sitting in the first class that most men couldn’t ponder to afford and not in the economy class. Their pride was somewhat trampled over such trivial thing. She shouldn’t have woken up an hour earlier this morning. Despite the temptation Hillary felt to shut her eyes throughout her flight, she remained alert in those hours. She couldn’t let her guard down for a second as she was examining the movements of her

“Sveta! These are not people, right? These are some weird . . . whatever you call them . . . shape-shifters? Kosmops? Whatever?” She shook her head. They were not the Enemy. They were people. In the flashes of searchlights, she saw them with perfect clarity: their skinny legs, pathetic paunches, and sagging breasts. They lay exposed and defenseless, every pretense of civilized living having been stripped away from him. They had no need of modesty anymore. There were quite a lot of children, tucked in among the adult bodies. One of them was clutching a doll. She stared at it because there was no other man-made object in the pit, but then realized it was not a doll but a baby.

Diya Mallick An eighteen-year-old girl who lives in the slums situated beside the railway tracks of Kolkata. She is an innocent girl who is pure at heart and wants to make her family happy. But with that innocence, she has a lot of insecurities and fears buried deep inside of her. Few of those insecurities arise from one thing, she is on the heavier side due to which people tend to bully and make fun of her. "Diyu," Daksh mumbled after a while when she was done devouring the cupcake.

My guess was magic, some kind of sophisticated magical barrier surrounding the entire space and effectively blocking out all unwanted noise. My eyes scanned the new room with practiced assessment. The private area was no different from any other VIP section in any average nightclub, with luxurious dark leather couches arranged strategically around a decently sized glass table. The overall dim ambience and intimate layout made it an ideal, cozy space for depraved acts. A few abominations occupied the area when we arrived. Two male demons and three topless, human-looking females with distinctly pointed elven ears. Nymphs, I assumed, since the true fae folk rarely patronized morally questionabl

“You should only have fragments of me. Temporary echoes. But this… you’re channelling.” I glance sideways at Dylan, just in time to see golden glitter trailing from his fingertips. “Is that…” I squint. He looks down. “Oh no.” A second later, Nanna walks in holding a stack of new books, and stops dead in her tracks. “Why is there a tiny unicorn in the flour bin?” Layah claps a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Fairy dust hallucination, just a little, it’ll wear off in about ten minutes.”