Lucky Blonde Novels & Stories

Something confidential. "We'll get to the chase, omega," Alpha Damien uttered before he dropped a small black pouch on the table across from me. Whatever was inside that pouch produced a thudding sound. "I want you to mate someone on your 18th birthday." "Consider that small pouch our first payment for allowing us to get into your parents' house ." Lady Divina added. "They're gold coins if you're wondering. We heard that your family has debts and bills to pay. Your parents were caught doing something punishable by death. We can pay you a certain amount of gold coins every month and spare your parents' lives, but of course, you have to do what we ask in return with confidentiality."

Sure enough, a colleague's phone chimed, and their face lit up with joy. "The lottery ticket Yelena told me to buy hit a hundred-thousand-dollar prize! I'm going to be her devotee for life!" Everyone rushed to congratulate him. Even Nate ignored me and turned to look at Yelena adoringly. "You really are a lucky star, Yelena. Whoever gets to marry you will be the luckiest man alive." Yelena glanced at him shyly, but when she looked back at me, her eyes were filled with innocent malice.

But this new blonde girl, SweetLily, had him hooked bad. She was tiny, probably around 5’2”, with long golden hair, small perky breasts, and super smooth pale skin. She looked young and innocent, like a fresh teen, but she fucked like a pro. Even though she was new, she rode cock so good, took it deep, and made the hottest moans. Jake jerked off to her every single night. He locked his dorm door, pulled out his thick cock, and stroked hard watching her small body get pounded. He came buckets thinking about filling her tight little pussy.

She's so embarrassed of having me as her twin to the fact that she dyed her hair blond and goes to the salon monthly to perfectly straighten it just to look opposite of me. Yes, she's that evil. And yes, she hates me that big. Avery reminds me of a Regina George incarnate from that movie Mean Girls. You must wonder who I am since I have been talking so much about my sister. I'm Lindsay Suzanne Swanepoel. Pretty name, actually. But too pretty for me. I find my name not really suited at all for a person like I am so just call me Lindy.

I increased the pressure, causing the knife to cut into Regina's skin and drops of blood to bead. Regina didn't look the least bit flustered. Instead, she met me with an innocent expression. "What are you talking about? I don't understand. What does your bad luck have to do with me? I was born lucky. Of course, I'm luckier than normal people!" I let out a cold laugh, my mind racing. "Let me think. When did you start to get lucky? Oh, right after I had that kidney surgery…"

she said, her tone shifting, the edge creeping in, “it’s funny how life turns out. Some people just… get lucky, I guess.” I raised an eyebrow. “Luck doesn’t last forever.” “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure,” she replied, swirling her glass. “Sometimes luck just looks like… borrowing someone else’s spotlight.” Hayden turned his head slightly. “Is there something you’re trying to say?” Cecilia’s eyes glittered. “Just reminiscing.” Her voice trembled as she said it, and I knew then that the act was crumbling. She wasn’t taunting anymore she was grasping.

Eh, a seasoned lesbian knows her own squad. "...All I'm saying is we're young, dude. Now's the time to get shitfaced so we'll have glory days to look back on. Who wants to be boring old people fighting over bingo cards!?" The tall, masculine platinum blonde smirked to her exasperated dark haired friend, who started walking backwards so she could face her head on. Like just about everyone else here, they were barefoot and showing off their alluring forms. Blondie was sporting a pair of dark grey board shorts and a thin turquoise tank top, and literally the tiniest white bikini I've seen in a hot minute adorned her more feminine counterpart.

The scent of Elena's signature vanilla candles filled the air, mixing with the aroma of the Italian food. Clara bounced out of the bedroom they shared, eyes wide with barely contained excitement. "Oh my God, you're actually him. You're actually the coffee shirt guy. This is wild." "Clara!" Claire hissed, mortified. "What? I'm just saying, you're taller in person than in photos. It's actually kind of impressive." Clara stuck out her hand with confidence. "I'm the smart sister. Claire's the pretty one who throws beverages at wealthy people."

The doctor gawked and Zander instantly grabbed the phone. “That was also you? You looked different yet again,” the doctor stared at her. “The makeup artist and hairstylist were magnificent,” Vivian said as an explanation. She, herself, barely recognized herself after the makeup artist and hairstylist did their magic. Add her expensive and gorgeous wedding dress to that and it was like she was whisked from some kind of fairy tale. “Women are so scary,” the doctor said and finally relented. Zander childishly humped at the latter and Vivian giggled.

That’s all I can promise. Her face lights up again. “Any word from the Blonde One?” “Said it might take longer than expected and she'd add more to the paycheck. Then poof. Radio silence.” Britney raises a brow. “She’s probably on the run from the Illuminati. Or hiding a secret baby.” She grins and pulls a protein bar from her bag. “Or buried someone with a Moncler coat hanger.” We're still laughing when a notification buzzes on my phone: Reminder: JONES FOUNDATION GALA - TONIGHT, 8PM