Littles Stories Novels & Stories

The End" She said as she smiled at her son whom still looked at her, expecting her to continue with the story. "But Mama this story does not really interest me this night. I have heard alot of stories about Santa. Please tell me something different?" "Fine! I will. But promise me that after this it will be over?" "If I like it Mama" he responded. " Ok then, I will call this story THE LITTLEST ELF"

Story 3: Yes!! Mummy, Fuck The front door opened. Footsteps echoed through the house, heading straight for the kitchen. Edwina’s heart hammered in her chest, but Olivia simply smiled, licking her shiny lips slowly. She made no move to cover the younger girl’s spread, dripping body.

"Really? And what stories does Mommy tell you?" Brandon tilted his head, thinking. "The Three Bears, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, and the Prince and the Frog." He hesitated a little. "Mommy knows lots of stories too, but she only tells me one each night, so she finishes them quickly." Peter grinned. "Is that so? Do you really like listening to stories?" Brandon nodded enthusiastically. "I love it." "Then, how about letting Grandma tell you stories from now on? Sometimes, Mommy gets very tired."

“You’re close, aren't you? If I dipped my hand down there, I just know I’d find you soaked.” More moans spilled from my lips, shameful and sweet. “Do you want me to make you cum?” I wanted to scream yes. I wanted to beg him for it. The orgasm was approaching like a freight train, and I knew it would be earth-shattering. And then his words struck me. ‘Little Hunter’. The fog snapped. I shoved off him with a burst of hysterical strength, my heart stuttering as I spun around to face the male who’d almost brought me to climax.

he said while giving me a funny look and I just smile at him "It's not my fault I grew up " I try to come to my defense although I knew my excuse sounded lame as hell. "Well of course it's not. Now what's for lunch? I'm famished!" He exclaimed and Christy let out a small laugh "When aren't you famished?" She teased as she dished out food for all of us. We ate our lunch while reminiscing old memories and how life used to be when I was little with nothing other than school, games and the latest fashion to worry about.

Suddenly my vision goes hazy and the room starts to spin, I lose control of everything but manage to let three words pass my lips before I blackout, three words that I don't understand but speak anyway, as my world turns dark, they slip from my mouth before the blackness takes over. "My little wolf!"

“Let's talk if you make it out alive. Our topic will be an intruiging one. To give you a little clue. Nix.” ⚘ little ⊹ lies ··································································································································

I whispered with a loving smile, "which story would you like tonight?" Mathew's face lit up with excitement, his tiny hands reaching for his favorite book. "The one about the brave little wolf, Mumma!" I chuckled as I opened the book, a captivating story about a young wolf's grand adventure. Mathew listened with rapt attention, his eager eyes fixed on the pages as I spun the tale of bravery and exploration. By the time I reached the part where the little wolf found solace under the silvery glow of the moon, my son was already fast asleep.

He tried to soften his usual cold and deep voice, so he slowed down again, “One day, a little mermaid...” “Daddy, don’t you know how to tell stories?” The little girl flattened her lips as she muttered, aggrieved, “Nellie’s Daddy is so powerful, but he can’t tell stories...” Joshua fell silent as he sucked in a deep breath. “Let’s not listen to stories. Just go to sleep, okay?” “Not okay…” Tears started to roll down the Little Princess’s cheeks. “If I don’t listen to a story, I’ll get nightmares…”

There was one solitary, big book on a low table between them. "The title of the tale is The Binding of Autumn," he began, his voice an entrancing whisper just in harmony with the shriek of the fire. “It's the tale of a harvest god who offers a mortal woman a choice: one night of absolute freedom for one year of unimaginable riches for her people." He didn't move as his eyes met hers. "The consent is the matter at hand. It must be freely bestowed, not coerced, and whispered three times into the skin of his throat." “Do you have any idea what sort of story you're going to be reading me tonight?”