Messed Up Short Stories Novels & Stories

"Did you crawl out of a sewer on the way in? This is a Fortune 500 company, not a bus terminal bathroom." "I had car trouble, Mr. Graham. And then a shoe incident. And then a puddle..." "I don't pay you for your tragic life story, Wanda," he cut in, slamming his tablet onto the desk. "I pay you to function. Bare minimum expectations. Coffee that's hot. Bagels that aren't stale. You failed at both. Congratulations." "I'm sorry, I—"

I managed, voice hoarse. Aunt Clara nodded and went back to the kitchen for snacks. The moment she was out of sight, Marcus leaned down and whispered hotly in my ear, “Good girl. Now finish that essay while my cum drips out of your pregnant pussy. We’re not done tonight.” I shivered, already feeling fresh heat building between my legs. Being secretly pregnant by my step-uncle had turned me into an addicted, dripping mess. And the risk only made me wetter. End of book 19

he whispered, his lips brushing her forehead, “was merely the first page of our story.” Their story ended there, with Cora wrapped in the arms of a demon, her body sated, her soul promised, and her future a terrifying, exhilarating blaze of unknown passion. She had gotten everything she had ever fantasized about, and she had never been more perfectly, completely damned.

He said while forwarding his hand for a handshake. She didn't notice him and was looking at her phone thinking "Oh, God hopefully I am not late. I don't want to upset a VIP Client ." He again said "Oh , Hello, Madam." She looked at him . Soon the lift got stuck because of a power cut . They heard an announcement"Sir, Mam please don't worry. There are some technical issues . We are working on resolving it. Please co-operate and don't panic. Thank You." "Oh god ." Sunna screamed with frustration.

I say. Maddie comes over, sits on the far end of the couch, pulling her knees to her chest. Then she looks at me, face serious. "I'm sorry about dinner. The way I acted." I shake my head. "It's fine. Let's forget it." She shakes her head back. "No. It was wrong. You're my step daddy." The way her lips curved at the word ‘daddy’. She's good with her games. I set the book down. "You're dealing with the breakup. It's okay. People do dumb things when they're hurt."

—I knew this was it. Our forever. THE END! Here is the list of my masterpieces; ~ The Mafia’s Plaything: His To Ruin. ~ Once His Nightmare, Now His Employee. ~ Bound By His Rules: MM Steamy Compilation. ~ The Omega’s Revenge Harem: A Dark MMMM Erotica Tale. (Available only on GOODNOVEL.)

He buried his cock deep. And spilled inside her. Thick. Hot. No condom. No care. He stayed there for a moment, pressed against her, forehead to forehead, breathing ragged. Then he pulled back. She watched as his cum leaked out of her and onto the bathroom floor. Her voice trembled. “This was a mistake.” “No,” he said. “It was inevitable.” He kissed her again. Slow this time. Then walked out. Left her panting. Used. Ruined. And still aching.

In the evening, the FL takes the ML for an appointment with clients where she is urged to drink. 7. The ML helps her with it. 8. The ML drives the FL home and when he helps her fasten the belt, he accidentally kisses her face. 9. They both feel shy and say goodbye to each other in a hurry. 10. The ML returns home. Lying in bed, he recollects what happened today and feels a tint of sweetness. If interested, search GoodNovel Workshop on F******K, OR send any story idea (summary, character profiles, random ideas) to: workshop@goodnovel.com There will be senior editors review the entries and help you develop even the random thoughts to well-written stories.

I wave goodbye to them as I rush out the door. Sighing with defeat, I pick up the pace, knowing that I will have to run the entirety of the way there to make it on time. I couldn't afford to be even a second late. The Macafee family had already disgraced the Ramono family once. We couldn't afford to have another incident happen. When I reach the packhouse, my entire body is covered with sweat and panting hard. I have to hold myself up with my palms against my knees as I try to catch my breath.

“I changed clothes like you wanted. Can we please just start the work?” He chuckled, low and rough. “Sit down. You’re writing an apology letter. I want it detailed. Explain how sorry you are for acting like a reckless little slut at that party, how you embarrassed the family, and exactly how you plan to make it up to me with your body and your time this semester. Write.” I sat and picked up the pen. My hand shook as I scribbled the words. When I finished I handed it over. He read it once and tossed it back. “Too casual. This sounds like a fucking text message. Rewrite it. Make it humbler. I want you begging on paper.”