Sapo On My Block Novels & Stories

Because of the way Sophia wrote _I was wrong. Like she thought an apology in a DM could erase a video. Elena threw the phone in her drawer and went back to work. --- *Tuesday | 6:45pm | Sophia’s Penthouse* Sophia’s apartment was too big when it was quiet. She had ordered takeout and it was getting cold on the counter. She was sitting on the floor with her back against the couch. She opened I*******m again. _You are blocked by @elena_carter._ She scrolled up.

“Fine. Dropping. Officially dropped.” But as we descend into the subway station, I add, “Just… don’t rule yourself out before the game even starts, okay?” Her lips press together and she doesn’t answer. My cue to let it go for now. Later that night, I’m sprawled on the couch, sifting through the day’s shots, when Sophia emerges from the guest room in pajama shorts and a T-shirt that says Support Local Bakers. She’s holding her phone, thumb hovering over the screen.

SOPHIA My entire body locked up as Cain’s voice stayed perfectly calm on speakerphone. “Yes, Mom, Sophia’s right here with me. She’s making excellent progress on her thesis. Very dedicated.” His thick cock was still buried deep inside my dripping pussy, throbbing against my walls. I was bent over his desk, skirt bunched around my waist, panties tangled at my knees, breasts smashed against the wood. Fresh slick from my last orgasm coated his shaft and dripped down my thighs. His fingers kept rubbing slow, torturous circles over my swollen clit, keeping me right on the razor’s edge.

he repeated slowly, like he was trying to taste the words before choking on them. “Yes,” I said, my tone lighter than I felt. “Relax, Damien. It’s not the end of the world. It’s just one dinner, one connection, and a few strategic moves. If anything goes wrong, we pull back.” Sophia, who had been scrolling through her phone like she wasn’t paying attention, suddenly raised her hand like a student volunteering in class. “I support the motion,” she declared, grinning. I turned to her with a smirk. “Of course you do.”

Sophia stammered, her voice quivering, her frame trembling, exuding vulnerability. Eventually, Sophia lifted her gaze, tears glistening in her eyes, and addressed the camera, "Zane, if you feel any remorse, please come forward and apologize, help me find closure." With a mix of tears and a strained smile, her expression conveyed a deep sense of tragedy and pathos, resembling a poignant performance. Suddenly, the door flew open, and all eyes turned. Zane stood in the doorway, nonchalantly clad in a T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, his large sunglasses imparting an air of cool defiance.

Sophia spoke up. "Why not?" "It was rough! My God, I was literally in a slaughterhouse." "Awn. I'm so sorry. Sophia. But wow, Just wow " Sophia sighed. "Let's leave, guys. I gotta grab more lotion for that ache." I remained still long after they'd left, thinking, asking myself if I'd actually heard those things. Ass… Ass fucked? Did she mean… Bile seeped into my mouth, but I gulped it back. I couldn't throw up in a public bathroom. All I could say was that Piccolo Maestro was bad news. And by bad news, I meant one delivered from hell.

Sophia lounged on a plush velvet sofa in her room, scrolling lazily through her phone. Her evening had been perfectly uneventful—wine, soft music, and a face mask—until a message notification popped up. Tiana (Former HR Assistant): Girl, you are NOT going to believe what happened today at Blackwood Tower. Sophia raised a brow. Tiana was one of the few people she still kept close from her time at the company. She has always been loyal, sharp-tongued, and hungry for gossip.

He gave her space, didn't ask intrusive questions, didn't hover. But that was the problem. The apartment felt like a waiting room—two people occupying the same space, careful not to touch, not to get too close, not to make this arrangement feel like anything more than what it was. Temporary. On the fourth morning, Sophia's phone buzzed while she was brushing her teeth. She nearly dropped her toothbrush. An email. From Vertex Media. Her heart hammered as she wiped her mouth and opened it, her hands trembling. Dear Ms. Reyes,

Amy turns to our older sister, who is standing there with her arms crossed, not looking amused anymore. “Yes, Amy. I still have him blocked. He will not be happy. I can’t believe I agreed for us all to leave our phones behind too.” “We are fine! Let’s all loosen up and dance!” Saph is such a cheap drunk. She hardly drinks because she believes her body is a temple and doesn’t like to expose it to toxins. Her words, not mine. But one shot shouldn’t be getting her this loose. I think I might be feeling that shot too. Must be a really strong tequila.

Aloe's POV Sofia showed up at my Portland apartment on a Saturday afternoon in March, without warning or explanation. Just knocked on the door and stood there with coffee and a look that suggested she had news I needed to hear. "This is either very good or very bad," I said, letting her in.