Popular Short Stories Novels & Stories

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.

We lay there in the dark, the city lights flickering in the distance. "I love you guys," she whispered, her voice barely a thread. "We love you, Gabriella," Arden said. "Always," Brent added. I just pulled her closer, claiming her lips fiercely, my heart beating in time with hers. The war was over. The game was won. And the prize was the only thing that ever mattered. Her. She would be ours forever. Ours to break, to fuck, to tame, to ruin. Our pretty princess and our submissive little slut. Our sweet Gabriella. THE END

You followed me to the backyard as I watered the garden. You chopped onions at my counter, and your hands moved so quickly over the knife that it was obvious – and surprising, somehow – that not only could you cook, but that you enjoyed doing it. You followed me to the couch, where we sipped wine while the television droned something of little importance and you told me surprising things about your life. You devoured Hemingway and had a soft spot for kittens and worried sometimes that you drank too much. You thought Johnny Cash was the greatest singer who ever lived, and you sang Folsom Prison Blues in your deep and off-key baritone.

Don't get it wrong. Sometimes stereotypes were spot on correct and sometimes they weren't. This was again, another case in Brianna Samuels. She wasn't one of those bitches that everyone knew about because of stereotypes, that lived for gossip and brought people down just so they felt better about themselves. Okay, well Brianna did live for gossip, but mostly the harmless type of gossip and she definitely did not live to step on people. The type of gossip she lived for would basically be classified as petty theft in contrast to murder. Basically who dated who and who's hot and whatnot.

Until now, strange short stories had only very short stories. But from volume two I intend to add stories that have 10 to 20 captains as well. These stories are not so long nor have so much visibility as a separated book. For this reason, I decided to move all then into strange short stories, that is already a storybook of different themes.

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

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.

Her mind got stuck on the mention of Dabir's name. "And then Mom told Zamin to... Aunt Iman?" Madiha was halfway through her story but realized Iman was not listening. "Huh? What were you saying?" "Nothing." Madiha shook her head. It wasn't anything important. "Can you please make laddoo for me?" The sweet little balls of gram flour were Madiha's favorite, especially the ones that Iman makes. "Of course." Iman andwers as memories of past flodded in her brain.

I smile at my daughter and say, “Over medium, please.” Then she looks at Gabriel, fighting a smile. “Can you eat better than you can dance?” The girls erupt into laughter, and Gabriel holds his hands up in defeat. “Look at it this way, ladies: I gave you a great story.” Britanya looks between me and Gabriel and winks. “Doesn’t seem like the story’s over.”

Pinky squinted to read it, her eyes tracing the loops and crosses. "Collection of short stories for ladies," the title read. "Stories of desire, of awakening, of the first time." Pinky blinked, her eyes widening as she read on. The handwriting was feminine, secretive, as if the writer were sharing her most guarded thoughts with only the pages. It was a confession. A revelation. As she began to read.