Poetry Stories Novels & Stories

*Next Collection* **Story Synopsis** Nineteen-year-old Lisa discovers her married neighbor’s hungry eyes on her through the open bedroom window each sweltering summer night. Instead of hiding, she lets the forbidden thrill pull her deeper into a silent, shadowy game of temptation. What begins as distant stares slowly spirals into something far more dangerous—until one night the line between watching and touching finally breaks ***** Lisa's Pov ... I’d just gotten home from a late shift at the campus coffee shop, my tank top clinging to my sweaty skin and my tiny denim shorts riding up my ass like a second skin.

"Step away from her, Caden." He turned. "What are you doing?" "Protecting myself. Protecting this pack." She walked closer. Pulled something from her pocket. A small pouch. My grandmother's herbs. Or what was left of them. "Found these in her room weeks ago. Thought they were medicine. Had them tested instead." She held them up. "Poison. Slow. Subtle. Designed to stop a woman from conceiving." My blood went cold. "I've been taking these for months," Serena said. "In my tea. In my food. She's been poisoning me. That's why I can't have children."

Russell Samurai and Other Stories by William Meikle Stuck On You and Other Prime Cuts by Jasper Bark Poetry collections: WAR by Alessandro Manzetti and Marge Simon Brief Encounters with My Third Eye by Bruce Boston No Mercy: Dark Poems by Alessandro Manzetti Eden Underground: Poetry of Darkness by Alessandro Manzetti If you’ve ever thought of becoming an author, we’d also like to recommend these non-fiction titles: The Dead Stage: The Journey from Page to Stage by Dan Weatherer

Dancers moved gracefully across the makeshift stages, their bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music, a vivid expression of their culture and history. In one corner of the square, a group of poets and storytellers gathered, their voices rising and falling like waves, carrying tales of heroism, love, and adventure. The listeners, young and old alike, sat captivated by the narratives that unfolded before them, their minds transporting them to faraway lands and long-forgotten times.

She laughed and thought to herself "my weakness is teachers". -Well, I already told you my whole life story. Of course, when she told her life story she didn't include Gabriel. -Well look my life is not that interesting it is very common I have a family that does not live here my family is European I came to visit this country and I stayed here my family is a very traditionalist family they come from time to time to see me and I also go there from time to time I have two more brothers they live with my parents and I am a professor at several universities, so as you see my life is not very interesting.

She stole my breath away at that moment. She picked up the phone at the other end, her eyes urging me to do the same. “I’m planning on writing a book,” she whispered, still maintaining her friendly face. “Writing a book? Bitch, what the hell do you want?” I yelled, my eyes blazing with fury. What did her writing skills have to do with me? “The book is about failures. Guess who would be on the cover? You,” she said, her lips parting as laughter escaped them. I stared at her with rage, different methods of turning her instincts flickering in my mind.

She brought both breasts back to my penis and wet them again, and brought them back to my mouth. The next moment, she straddled me again, and checked my bondage's for tightness. I could definitely not move my hands or my legs. "Do you know what I read recently?" "No, what?" "I read a story that you posted online. It was called 'I want you to feed me'." I stared blankly,I'd forgotten that she read my sex stories online, sometimes, especially this one. "Uhhh yes well..." "Do you remember writing the story, do you remember what it was about?" As she questioned me, she was humping her open pûssy over the head and shaft of my cock.

Once bitten, twice shy, as they say. Two years later, I was pregnant again. Time seemed to have passed by so quickly. Sometimes Horace would ask me, "How many years do I have left?" See? He was sharp, too. Just because he didn't ask often didn't mean he couldn't sense something was off. When he asked, I'd answer, "Only tomorrow. You should hurry up. When you're gone, I'll use your money to fill the house with young men. You know I could do it, right?"

Author's Note This book is a short compilation of erotic stories. Please note that not all entries are heavily erotic—some lean more toward emotional moments, dramatic tension, or character interaction. Also, 99% of these stories don’t follow a traditional plot, so don’t be confused if there's no clear beginning, middle, or end. They’re written more for mood, moments, and expression than full narratives. Enjoy the ride,no overthinking needed. 😉 ********************************************* Kael didn’t wait.

The poor man had been publicly humiliated, and as he was restrained and forced from the carriage, he’d turned to the apathetic onlookers and in a deep gravelly voice, and said, “What do you want from me? Just because you don’t want to see it, it doesn’t mean it’s not happening. I’m just going to be homeless somewhere else!” His words resonated with Celeste that night. She wondered where that man had slept, squirreled away out of sight and mind, in some decaying squat in the city, or in a multi-storey carpark that stunk of diesel and petrol fumes, the effluence of affluence.