Reddit Ghost Stories Novels & Stories

Willing to break the silence again, Stone cleared his throat before asking, “what the hell is even a soul harvester? That sounds so made up.“ Everest chuckled at his plain disgust, “It’s a terrifying bed time story parents of the Gareth pack would tell their kids in order to put the fear of the unknown into them. It was, still is, our version of the boggie-man*.” Stone nodded, his calculative look returned. “But how do you know it isn’t real? Most bed time stores are myths and most myths are very real.” He waved at the four of them, “most humans think we are myths.”

He just needs to trust me and let his emotions flow. "3 years ago, there was a person who died inside that stock room. He committed suicide because of love triangle. That stock room was known to be haunted because it's believed that his soul is still there, trying to take everyone who wants to disturb him." He said to me, it gave me goosebumps but if Giovanni was trying to plot a prank on me and scared me because of that story, well, he doesn't know me yet. I really like horror movies, I find them attractive. Not only that, I always wants to murder movies. I actually don't believe in ghosts.

As If moved by nature, Noah and Rachel stared at each other. Noah cleared his throat softly, "What would happen if some suddenly appears and claims that he is your older brother?" he asked carefully. Greta took a deep breath, she shrugged. "I don't know, just so you guys know, there were some people who claimed to be my brother but they failed the DNA test, if course they think that we would ask them to do that. Well, not that I want to brag or anything but who wouldn't want to be a part of the Specters!" she replied casually.

Thank you. A DM from someone whose username I couldn’t remember: *Your ghost story got me through my dad’s funeral. I felt less crazy reading it.* A forum thread I’d half‑ignored because it embarrassed me, where two people I’d never met argued passionately about whether one of my characters had made the right choice. The good was in here, too. It had just been drowned in everything else. The lines wrapped around me, caressing and constricting in turns. “Give it to me,” a voice whispered through the text.

I told him about a threesome I had with a girl and her bff, in her parents' bed. We were constantly trying to one-up each other and tell our raunchiest stories. Just to add a little teasing, I told him about having a female pharmacist "measure" my cock when I bought condoms. After which I bought some Magnum-sized. He told me about a sex store employee "helping" him try out a new dildo. I told him about the first time a girl asked for anal. He told me about the first time he was fucked up the ass. We laughed about men and women not liking to give oral, but always expecting to receive it. I told him about the first time I rimmed a girl, and girls' almost universal reaction to being rimmed the

We kept going until we both came hard and fast while swallowing our moans in each other’s kisses. From then on, it became our filthy secret ritual. Every single night, when Mom started moaning Gabriel’s name, Layla and I would lock our bedroom door, strip off our clothes, and devour each other. Fingers turned into tongues and at times we would 69 for hours, licking and sucking each other’s clits while whispering dirty things about him. “Do you think Daddy’s cock is big?” I moaned into Layla’s pussy one night. “I’m sure it’s going to be so big,” she gasped, tongue-fucking me deeper. “I bet he stretches Mom so fucking good…”

The possessive way he fucked me like he both hated and needed me. I forced a grin. “You’re crazy, man. You watch too many movies.” He stepped aside but whispered as I passed, “Run while you still can. He’ll ruin you.” Later that day, I overheard two employees gossiping near the cafeteria. “Did you hear about The Ghost? Some billionaire who shows up masked at underground parties. Pays good money, fucks like a demon, then vanishes. Nobody ever sees his face.” I laughed it off again. But deep inside of me, i was worried for myself.

What if I get to fuck that huge cock every day however I wish while my best friend can do nothing but pretend not to see a thing? The idea sends a shiver through me. “Yes?” he says, low and firm. Heat pools between my legs. I bite my lip hard. The sound of my friend’s voice is unmistakable at the other end. My body immediately becomes alert. I pretend to be fascinated with the ceiling while I listen carefully. “Dad, where are you?” she asks like the little spoilt princess that she is. Justin answers calmly. “I’m busy Lydia, is there a problem?” “Busy? Are you in a meeting?”

I SEVENTEEN YEARS AFTER: “Grazzie Ella have you seen your brother, Drazzie Drae?”Draeko asked his daughter who was in their mansion’s living room, reading an English pocketbook. Grazzie became an avid fan of some famous writers whose genres are fantasy and paranormal, especially those werewolves, vampire, and dragon stories.

"And I tell them stories." "What kind of stories?" Herb said. This was the part that had gotten him out of bed early on a Saturday morning (his only day off from selling mattresses the rest of the week) to come over here. Willie had mentioned stories when Herb got after him for being late coming home so often. It seemed they made quite an impression on the kid, but when Herb asked what kind of stories they were Willie clammed up. The Brookwood woman shrugged. "You know: ghost stories. The kind children like. Mostly ones my grandmother told me when this was her home. I could tell you one, if you like? So you'll see that they're not so bad."