Novel 21+ の小説・ストーリー

he said quietly. The moons above flickered faintly. For a brief moment, one of them seemed to fade into shadow. Then something impossible happened. Far beyond the familiar moons, a faint new light appeared in the sky. A small, pale moon slowly emerged from the darkness. Lyra stared in disbelief. “That’s not possible,” she whispered. There had always been twenty moons. Always. But now… there were twenty-one. The strange new moon glowed dimly, almost like a ghost hiding behind the others.

I head straight up to my room, closing the door behind me. The first thing I have to do, is my research. I reach for my laptop and open it up. Two hours later I am feeling raw, edgy and spent. And - I have a painful, raging erection I'm trying to ignore. I'd recognized the name she'd used, Onlyfans, as a popular pornography site. Hey, I may not have had sex in a while but that doesn't mean I don't have... needs. I know a lot of girls do amateur stuff on Onlyfans. It has just never occurred to me that one of them might be my own daughter.

I answer the phone immediately saying the code we came up with so he knows to speak freely “She turns 18 tomorrow she will find her mate at midnight tonight after her first shift don’t do anything yet but keep her close grovel apologize whatever it takes just keep her close” and with that he hangs up leaving my head swimming even more and the anger even more noticeable. The door bell rings and Kelly answers it calling out food and Shannon the omega is here so I put on my best performance and get to work. Nova’s POV

I hadn’t even realized when he walked into the room. My head was spinning, trying to process everything I’d just read. There were scenes I couldn’t even picture properly, acts I hadn’t heard of before. And I’ve read a fair share of steamy novels. But this one? It was something else entirely. Now, being caught with it, I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. It’s not like it’s illegal. I mean, I’m twenty plus. That’s old enough, right? I think someone mentioned that it was for twenty one plus. I’ve never picked up anything from that section, so I wouldn’t know. Maybe that’s where this one came from.

He shook her from his mind and pushed open the doors to the study. The rug-lined room was bigger than B’s above-garage apartment. Floor to ceiling bookshelves dampened any noise B might made in his whiskey search. There didn’t seem to be a single inch of space on any one of the shelves. Books of all colors, textures, and sizes were packed together. In front of the book spines sat hundreds of little treasures–seashells, pocket watches, glass figurines, and carvings of creatures. So many creatures. B let his fingers drift over the book spines: The Picture of Dorian Gray. The Catcher in the Rye. The Odyssey. Brave New World. The Call of the Wild. White Noise. So many stories he’d never read and

*********** Once more, this is my specific kink. It's absolutely fucked up but it gets me off so here we are. You've been warned. Nothing about this is remotely okay in the real world, but it's hot as shit in fiction. This is a slower burn than usual, but big pay off. It will only be two parts. ***********

Cole's PoV Sunday 13th January 2019 ********************************** Tonight is going to be amazing. Me and Lacey have been invited to a big party as a late New Years celebration by one of our friends from school. They called it a New Years party but we all know that's just an excuse to get drunk and have sex and dance the night away. I'm not complaining though, I love sex and partying and getting drunk. Lacey is exactly the same but she is always more graceful with it all.

It's a free book. Please, give a chance to my other books on Goodnovel as well and follow me on I*. It's the same penname wellmindelysian. You can get updates about my new stories there. Thank you again.

Wiping his hands on his pants, he tried again and was able to dial 911. As he waited for the call to connect, his eyes roamed the library, darting here and there, anywhere but at Harold. He noticed some books had been knocked off a nearby bookcase, a scattering of anthologies. Yet among them, he spotted his own name. A copy of his novel Dead Don’t Dance. It shouldn’t be here, he kept all his author copies in his office out in the carriage house. “This is 911. What is the nature of your emergency?”