Novel & Cerita Pastel Tales

The stories she had shared with Theo melded with the narratives of the dream realm, creating a kaleidoscope of tales that danced before her in a mesmerizing display. As she wandered through this fantastical land, Mama Hazel encountered creatures of myth and magic, each one a guardian of stories untold, a keeper of secrets waiting to be revealed. The characters she met whispered of forgotten tales, of hidden truths, and of the transformative power of storytelling that bound their fates together in an intricate dance of destiny.

Raisel sat in Islandia’s library. It was in a very high tent and spacious, one could get missing in it. The shelves were made out of crystals that towered high above. Small dragons flew up to get books from the top shelves. She found a small corner in the library and took out her notes, she picked out any books, pamphlets, articles anything that had to do with the heart of magic. She read till midday, however, she could not find out anything that they didn’t already know.

The garment shimmered under the light, accentuating her beauty. "My goodness," my subconscious whispered, awestruck. "Whatever she wears is absolutely gorgeous for her." Alex's fascination remained unbroken, his eyes locked on Christiana. "Alex, Alex..." I tapped him loudly, breaking the spell. He turned to me, inquiring, "Who's that girl?" I hesitated, uncertain how much to reveal. "She's Christiana, Natalie's cousin," I replied. Alex's eyebrows arched, intrigued. "Natalie's cousin?" he repeated, his gaze drifting back to Christiana.

I stayed silent for a long time before I finally spoke. My voice was hoarse and unfamiliar. “The house my mother left me is still in Sienna’s hands.” “Can you help me to get it back?” Sebastian shot me a glare full of barely contained frustration. “My aunt’s property? Don’t worry. I’ll get every last bit back for you. No need for you to fret.” He pushed a glass of whiskey toward me. “I’m just afraid once your wounds heal, you’ll forget the pain.”

Shit. That felt nice.My back arched, following his mouth.“Desperate little slut.” His tongue swirled around the bud, making me moan. “Is that what you wanted?”“Yes.” I groaned when the sharp end of his tongue flicked against my hard skin. New feelings filled my mind, and fireworks of sensations exploded behind my eyelids. My skin was burning and only he could put it out.“Yes, what?” His teeth grazed my nipple, making me go insane.“Yes, sir.” Just as the words left my mouth, I felt him sucking my nub. I meowed and raised my chest, my head growing hazy from the sensation.His lips left my breast. “Open,” he commanded, and I obeyed, opening my mouth wide so he could put his fingers in there.Only

with that older-brother eyebrow raised to full tilt. I wiped a streak of sweat off my temple. "Yep. Paradise sweet smells-like-cigarettes-and-questionable-decisions Paradise." He gave a grunt. "Paradise has peeling wallpaper now?" "Paradise is subjective," I shot back, setting the box down next to a burn mark on the counter that looked like someone had tried to sacrifice a toaster. "This one comes with character." "So did Alcatraz." We both laughed. The kind of laugh that came after hours of hauling boxes. The kind that came when you were pretending everything was perfectly fine.

Every midnight we push further, fucking filthier, teetering closer to discovery. One afternoon I duck into the silent library, desperate for a moment away from the endless ache between my legs. My hand brushes a cracked leather diary hidden behind ancient books. I pull it free, my pulse racing. The pages are yellowed, but the words sear into me: a sister from centuries ago, spilling every sinful detail of her priest lover, how they met in this exact garden, how he pinned her against the wall and fucked her raw under the moon, how she came screaming around his bare cock night after night until a shadow at the window saw everything. Punishment. Shame. Exile. I read it crouched in the stacks, t

After sometime when he didn't respond, Katherine turned back to look at him. The amusement he had moments ago flashed in his eyes momentarily before he spoke. "What is it?" Katherine asked. Without heeding much attention to his words he kept his gaze on her big brown eyes, "Your innocence, it's intoxicating." He then slowly moved back to rest his back fully. The girl seated in front of him was no different from a child that wished to hear a bedtime story. "There's a tree somewhere in the highlands, where the wolves reside. The tree grants you either one wish or a glimpse of your future, never both, to all beings. The wolves call it Centem Natura."

But today I was thoroughly transfixed by the way the peach-colored bra offset her lovely, creamy skin. I wanted to know if she had peach-colored panties. “Up,” I told her, nodding at her skirt. Tess said, “Yes, Sir,” and raised the thing up to her waist. My eyes went wide. My jaw dropped. I gulped. My secretary wasn’t wearing peach-colored panties. In fact, she wasn’t wearing a damn thing under that skirt. Not even pubic hair—not a whisper of it. Her red lips twisted in a smile. She panted slightly, obviously pleased. “I shaved this morning after you left for work,” she said. “Do you like it?”

Hi, I will not say much. This is an erotic story that contains a mom/aunt/son. As you know, I write about Aunt/Mom’s stories. Please support me by reading my other stories, too. Also, you can support me on my P*****n: p*****n.com/laxu00 Story starts