Of Pillows And Pampering Novels & Stories

I opened the basket. Inside was... A jar of pickles. A cheese plate. A fluffy, soft blanket. And curled around the whole thing… a narrow, body-length pillow. I stared at it all for a good thirty seconds. Pickles? Cheese? A pregnancy pillow? What... was this? A laugh bubbled up inside me—half bewildered, half hysterical. Was this a joke?

Anna assured me while squeezing my hand in support and I smiled at her. My eyes wandered back to Miracle and our eyes met for a second before she looked away with a frown. Either she thinks I'm creepy or she can feel something that she couldn't explain. The party continued and everyone gave their gifts to her, including me. My gift was not anything expensive but the latest invention of my company. A hi-tech pillow that will automatically adjust according to the user's body position. It also has a cooling and warm function, according to the room's temperature. Plus, it has a massage function that can help the user relax or get rid of a headache. Miracle had her brain open recently and I figur

So she did not want to be a kind person. After taking a shower and drying her hair, she put on only a shirt and laid down. What she wore was a deliberate design. The shirt barely covered her buttocks, and she left three top buttons of her shirt undone to reveal her sexy collarbones. This was her only bargaining chip, which she was going to make the most of. Sometime past three in the morning, Jean felt a mountain of muscle landing on top of her. She was struggling to breathe and also suffocated.

Her screams flooded her ears as he pushed a pillow over her face to silence her while he adjusted her body to enable him to pump his hardness deep within her. Pam was about to lose consciousness from lack of oxygen when the pillow was pulled away and Chester’s muscled body fell spent upon her. She lay in lifeless silence, staring at the ceiling while he remained inside her; moving slowly in an effort to arouse himself one more time. Although freed from the suffocating pillow, Chester’s weight was almost as bad. Pam struggled to spare her rib cage from the pressure that threatened it. Her movements assisted in Chester’s efforts for a renewal of his arousal and he was back in action.

The softness of the sheets, the fluffiness of the pillows; the warmth of the blankets become our top priorities as we transport them back to our cozy nest, accompanied by a contented sigh. ‘Hopefully mate comes soon because this pain is becoming unbearable!” Aneira whines. As soon as I step into the room, a surge of determination fills the atmosphere, igniting my passion for creating a harmonious space. With meticulous precision and utmost care, I embark on the task of rearranging everything to perfection. The pillows, like fluffy clouds, are arranged in a symmetrical pattern, ensuring that each one is plumped to absolute perfection. Not a single crease or wrinkle mars the smoothness of the

He made trip after trip, bringing in what looked like huge and oddly shaped pillows and scattering them around the den. "What in the world is all this?" I asked, weaving my way through them all. He picked one up, staring at it like it was an alien and scratching his head. "They're pregnancy pillows for you. I didn't know which one to get, so I just got them all and figured you could try them out and see which ones you like best.”

The decorative pillow was already in place. Not the confident beige one from the penthouse—that one had stayed in Manhattan, presumably guarding Alexander's empty bed. This was a different pillow, longer and narrower, in a shade of blue that matched the curtains. It sat exactly in the center of the bed, placed with the geometric precision of someone who had measured the distance from each headboard post. Marcus's work, clearly. The man was a professional. Elijah walked to the bed and looked at the pillow. He touched it. The fabric was soft, some kind of linen, and the pillow itself had enough heft to serve its diplomatic purpose. A proper border. A line in the sand. Or the sheets, as the cas

What it’s for is to be revealed later. From Damien, there’s a new set of silk pajamas, an eight-piece set. It’s in a beautiful crimson with darker accents of maroon ivy. Complete with robe, kami, shorts, pants, long and short sleeve button-up tops. Plus, two gowns, one mini, and the other floor length. It’s beautiful and a step up from what I wear. I want to put it on now, but I can wait until bedtime. Damien also admits the pen was from him but didn’t want to wait. The last items are as mysterious as this whole event.

Irene “I counted them, Les. There are exactly fourteen pillows on this bed.” I sat cross-legged in the center of the enormous mattress, tossing one of the absurdly expensive silk throw pillows into the air before catching it again. The bed was so soft it barely felt real, more like sinking into a cloud engineered specifically for wealthy people with stress disorders. Across from me, Alessia lounged against the mountain of cushions with her bare feet tucked beneath her silk dress, a bowl of half-eaten truffle risotto balanced precariously on the nightstand beside her.

KEVAH'S POV “Welcome to my office," Victor opens his arms, gesturing to the grandeur structure of the chamber. There is a small bed to the side, adorned with heart-shaped pillows and soft pink silk sheets. There's a mirror above the bed. What is this, Pimpa's Paradise? If this is so, I guess he's the pimp, but I ain't no prostitute.