Short Storys Novelas e Histórias

The library stood silent, its towering bookshelves casting long shadows under the dim overhead lights, a sanctuary of knowledge where I retreated to lose myself in words. I was introverted, my mind a labyrinth of intellect, but beneath my reserved exterior simmered a curiosity about my own hidden fantasies—erotic encounters in quiet, public spaces, a thrill I’d explored before with lovers past. My skirt brushed my thighs as I moved, a book in hand, the rustle of pages masking the quickening of my breath as I imagined being caught in passion here.

He collapsed onto the cushions, thighs spreading wide, the fabric of his shorts tightening over the bulge there accidental, but my eyes darted away fast, old crush stirring unwelcome heat low in my belly. I returned from the kitchen with a glass, handing it over. Our fingers brushed electric, lingering a beat too long. He drank deep, throat working, eyes meeting mine over the rim. "You're a lifesaver." We fell into talk, easy at first, his deployment stories, the endless sand and adrenaline crashes; my graphic design grind, the late nights tweaking logos for ungrateful clients. The air thickened with the late hour, words flowing intimate, but his gaze kept wandering. To the hem of my shorts

I made my way to his room, which was right beside the study, and walked in, searching as fast as I could for a key. I found a bunch of keys in his drawer and decided to try everything until one of them miraculously opened the freaking door. I tried the first key. Nothing. “Stupid key!” I muttered in annoyance and tried the second key, with the same results. There were about sixteen keys in this bunch and none of them were opening the damn door. I stared at the last key in my hand like it was my salvation. Then I pushed it in and turned the lock. Static. It still didn't work. I groaned in frustration and leaned against the door, ready to cry when the door pushed open and I fell in.

~Liliana~ These days after the gala don’t really settle into anything smooth. They just keep going, one after another, in a way that still catches me off guard. Every morning Rebecca wakes me up the same way, her little hands grabbing my arm and shaking until I open my eyes. She always has some urgent job for us, like lining up her stuffed animals for a big fight or sneaking a few extra strawberries from the kitchen before anyone notices. I catch how she presses closer when we sit with picture books or when she’s trying to write her letters. I don’t rush her. I just let it happen.

Right when the vampire was a few feet away from Uea, a sense of realization flashed through his mind, and he gasped in horror. "Isn't this Cassian? The vampire in my story 'Exclusively His'? The short story collection I finished a few days ago?" Uea's mind overworked, trying to make sense of what was going on. He'd already found everything familiar to begin with, and after confirming his situation, another realization dawned on him, shaking him to the core. Uea glanced at his chained body, and his lips trembled when he realized he wasn't in his own body, but the body of the main character of his short story.

"I am an orphan of the Irish. My ancestors survived famines. I can survive Midtown." Just as I reached the corner of Fifth and Forty-Second, a yellow cab swerved around the corner, hitting a massive oily puddle. It felt like a slow-motion horror movie. A wall of dirty, icy New York slush rose up and slammed into me. I stood there, dripping. My white silk blouse was now a translucent gray. My hair was plastered to my neck. One shoe was gone. But miraculously, the bagels were dry. I limped into the lobby of Graham & Associates, soaking wet and smelling like a sewer, looking like the before picture in a laundry detergent commercial.

The rain came crashing down without any warning, turning the quiet evening into a wild storm. I stood shivering outside my apartment door, arms wrapped tightly around my chest as cold water poured over me. My thin white tank top was completely soaked, clinging to my breasts and turning almost see-through. The cotton shorts stuck to my hips and thighs like a second skin. I had only stepped out for a second to throw the garbage, but the automatic lock clicked shut behind me. My phone, keys, everything was trapped inside.

Shayla resisted longer, peppering me with last-minute questions about whether clouds slept and if frogs had birthdays. Lucas waited until the others were settled before speaking quietly. “Can you tell a story?” Something in his tone—hopeful, vulnerable—unlocked a memory deep inside me. “My mother used to tell me stories,” I said softly. “Would you like one of those?” Three heads nodded eagerly. So I began. I told them about the moon that fell in love with the sea but could never touch it, about the brave girl who taught the stars how to sing, about the fox who tricked winter into leaving early.

I turned to the left and sprinted ahead, making sure my sandals weren't loud against the gravelled floor. When I got to the garden, I paused and wiped superficial sweat off my face. The first mission is successful, now the next is to seduce him. The garden was vast. It stretched out wildly, with flowers and trees of different kinds. It almost felt more like a well maintained forest than a garden. I glanced up, the sun was about to set, just above a tree. If I could attract him before the sun set, then I could make him want me enough to grant my people a good meal for a day. I immediately pulled out a small vial, and gulped down the content. Although my heat was today, I could as well induce

My heart nearly stopped when Victoria knocked again. “Adrian? I know you’re in there. Are you okay?” Adrian pulled out of me quickly, his cum already leaking down my thighs. He yanked my dress down, shoved me toward the stall, and whispered harshly, “Hide. Now.” I slipped into the stall on shaky legs, cum dripping down my inner thighs as I quietly closed the door. Adrian fixed his pants, zipped up, and opened the main door a moment later.