Short Fiction Novels & Stories

Omar looked at her face The moon was glimmered its luminous on her face while her nose pin shines through it, Her white teeth biting her bottom lip while her hair was softly flowing with breeze Omar didn't realize when he started leaning towards her, feelings his closeness to her, Hana fisted his shirt, her heart jumping in hr chest. "Hana!" When their lips was inches apart, Omar called her, to ask for permission. Hana hold onto his arm tightly, not having strength to open her eyes or nod her head. Two budding flowers in lawn faced each other as moon hide itself behind clouds to spread darkness. The End

I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

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.

You’re here to work. Inside the lighthouse the air smelled like coffee and woodsmoke and salt. He showed her the guest room — small, clean, a narrow bed with a window facing the open water. A shelf of books above it. She noticed that. Real books. Varied. Not what she expected from a man who’d chosen this kind of solitude. He told her the basic rules. Short sentences. No wasted words. She asked questions anyway, recorder ready in her hand. “Not yet,” he said when she lifted it.

~Jake~ The days after that kitchen fuck drag on like torture. Sarah's home every night, her presence a constant barrier between Maddie and me. We play it cool—stolen glances in the hallway, biting her lip as she passes, whispering "Daddy" so low only I can hear. One afternoon, when Sarah's in the shower, Maddie corners me in my home office, dropping to her knees quickly, sucking me off in under five minutes, her mouth hot and eager, swallowing every drop before standing, wiping her lips with a wink. "Just a taste," she says. But it's not enough. We need more space to unleash without the fear of creaking floorboards or sudden lights flicking on.

That was all he said as he took his briefcase and made his way out of the house while I watched him leave helplessly. “I could be good for you.” I whispered in frustration and stomped my feet before clearing the table and dumping them in the sink. I spent the rest of the day as usual, stealing Nick's shirt and hiding it in my room so that I could fuck myself to it at night. When 6 PM struck, I got a text from Mom with a message that had me sighing in despair. Mom: “There's unfortunately too much work. I think I'll be home by midnight. Or in the morning. Take care baby, xoxo.”

BEFORE YOU READ Nobody is coming to save you. Themes: Forced Proximity, Snowed In, Size Difference, Breeding Kink. This story features a possessive, reclusive hero who hasn't seen a woman in years. Expect primal play, rough sex, and intense possessiveness. (***) Gabrielle

I began, my voice shaking a little at first. “It started about a year ago and it just keeps getting worse. I get these waves of uncontrollable arousal all the time, even when I’m not thinking about sex at all. My pussy just starts getting wet, really fucking wet, like I’m in heat or something. Sometimes I’m sitting in class trying to focus on a lecture and suddenly I feel it start dripping down my thighs. I have to excuse myself and run to the bathroom just to wipe up or change my panties before it soaks through my clothes. And the wet dreams… every single night. I wake up humping my pillow like a desperate little slut, sheets completely soaked underneath me, my clit throbbing so hard it act

WARNING‼️ THIS STORY IS A PARANORMAL STORY 🔞 Chapter 1 My skin felt sticky from sweat as I peeled off my damp shirt and stepped closer to the tall antique mirror I had dragged out of the closet earlier. I wiped sweat from my neck and stared at my reflection, for a second everything matched. Then my reflection smiled a heartbeat after I did. My pulse jumped. I blinked hard and shook my head I was just tired that was all. I turned away to grab a towel but something made me glance back. My reflection stared at me, eyes darker, lips parted.

It clung to the air, making the ordinary space feel charged and unfamiliar. “The room is just down the hall,” Rykor said, his voice a little too rough. He was a practical man, a freelance graphic designer whose life had become a series of deadlines and quiet, lonely evenings. Renting out the spare room was a desperate move for a desperate cash flow problem. He’d expected a student, maybe another harried creative. He had not expected Everett.