Larry Smut Novelas e Histórias

Thumb smeared the bead of liquid over the slit. "Fuck...Sandra.." His hips jerked. "Gonna make me come too soon if you keep that up." "I want you bare," I said, voice raw. "Want to feel every inch stretch me open." He froze for a second. Then nodded. "I'm clean. Tested last month. You?" "Clean. On the pill." I spread my legs wider. "Fuck me raw, Damon. Fill me up." A guttural sound tore from his throat.

Pulling himself up onto his elbows, Larry grabbed at the sides of the waistband of my panties and began to slide the panties down. Throwing the damned thing over his shoulder, Larry slidded down onto my pussy and planted his lips around my clit. Without public hair to hide in, he made short work of finding the top folds of my slit and sliding up between them with the tip of his tongue.

"But that's what I like the most about you " "Shut it." Lana rolls her eyes. "His name is Larry. Such a common name for a cute face. But he thinks it puts a rhyme to both our names, 'Larry and Lana'. I laughed out loud when he say that. Oh, and that's another thing. He makes me laugh so loud. He's not really funny but he says the most weird things at the most random times. Like yesterday, we were eating burgers and he asked me, 'where do you think all the poop that we poop goes?' And I said, 'I don't know'. And he said, 'It all gets dumped in Trump's fat body because he's a shìtty person with a shìtty heart.' See, that's not funny but I burst out laughing. I can't remember the last time I la

"What?! Simon hissed. Larry swallowed his laughter. He did it on purpose, he wants to know Simon's reaction. The woman his with in the picture was his dearest cousin and he wants to make sure Simon's feelings were not trivial although he had a rough guest that his cousin was the reason he wants to stop his wedding with Jewel. "She's my cousin." Larry smirked. The situation was serious but he can't help teasing. Simon took a deep breath to relax. "Your really an ass****!" "Actually... I think it's better for us to used this picture." Simon suggested.

My hands immediately went numb as my heart tried to leap out of my chest. “Larry! Get away from him!” I screamed. “No! Stay back!” Larry turned to me and smiled. His smile was sick, all sharp edges and pure madness, his gaze drilling into me like a predator savoring the kill. “Did you really think you could stop me?” he hissed. “He’s mine now.”

I blew out a long sigh of relief at his departure. Fuck! Man! Larry was really a handful. He was obviously a lot to deal with whenever he got into those inquisitive situations. He keeps forgetting that curiosity killed the cat. I let my eyes roam back to the screen of my laptop, a folder catching my attention. I leaned in closer.

Rusty Halo smells like stale beer, cigarette smoke, and desperation — the exact perfume for the mood looping in my chest tonight. “Another round,” I tell Larry, sliding the glass close. Larry’s lanky, tired-eyed, and wears a mustache that looks like it’s been through more trauma than I have. He raises a brow but pours anyway. The glass fills. I grin like it’s Christmas morning and I’m a child who’s already been disappointed. “You sure you don’t wanna slow down, sweetheart?” he asks, polishing a glass as if the motion can smooth over the edges of my life. I scoff. “Have you ever seen a doctor on suspension, Larry?”

"Yeah... but I paid for it. He slapped me pretty hard after that." Larry’s smile disappeared in an instant, his jaw tightening again. "That piece of shit. If you ever have to deal with him again... aim higher next time. A broken nose hurts more." I let out a short laugh. "Is that your expert advice?" He shrugged, his grin returning briefly. "Just saying... if you’re going to fight dirty, make it count." I shook my head, but I couldn’t help the warmth that spread through my chest. Larry’s mood shifts were like a storm—unpredictable and wild. But in this rare moment, he felt like a calm breeze.

“Larry.” “You’re fucking him,” Calvin said. Larry shrugged. Calvin shook his head. He wasn’t bothered about his friend’s sexuality but was annoyed at him for bringing his partner here. What happened to respecting choices? How did he expect Hana to feel about this? “If it makes you feel better,” Larry started. He had a slant cut across his brow that gave him a resemblance to Aquaman. Calvin didn’t like him. “We are fucking each other.” Turning his back to the mirror so he didn’t have to look into the bitter eyes of Larry, he pushed his hands back to grab the sink.

Slowly, my brows wrinkle, and I cross my arms. “This is closing hours, Larry. Sally isn’t around,” I say to him, but he chuckles, walking up to me. The smell hits me hard—a rancid stench of smoke that seems to cling to his skin, and I involuntarily take a deep breath, trying to hold back my disgust. Larry is a creep in his early thirties who knows my mother, and ever since my dad died and we went broke, he has vowed that he would be the one to marry me. Cillian has beaten him up once or twice, but it never seems to deter him.