Sloppy Seconds Novels & Stories

"One, I'm not a little wolf. Two, I'm True..." "Lady True..." "Shut up. I'm talking. Now, as I was saying..." "45 seconds" I mentally reminded her. "Okay, okay" she replied. "You made a statement that really pissed me off." "Whatever it is I'm really sorry but would you be so kind as to tell me what it was" "I was coming to that" she replied through gritted teeth. "Okay then" "30 seconds left" I said

, Murphy replied in an uncertain way forgetting the answers as she looked into his curious eyes, which spoke far more than his tongue did. His face held a wid smile this time as she responded, she was getting confused at his words, his eyes were too deep to lose oneself there. "It's not a day for those who admire the seconds of moments, seconds spent together mean a world to some people, and the same seconds of direness from a significant means a hell to them. So, it's not a day, it's a count of many thousand seconds. Tiresome moments without you", he spoke in a low and a humble voice, that the way she had never talked to before, not even had this rollercoaster of emotions felt ever before.

He was right, she was a damn good cocksucker. I had to stop her because I was afraid I was going to cum before I got a chance to fuck her. I had a huge load of cum built up myself from watching my wife pleasure another man. I slipped my dick into her well used pussy. I feel I am now addicted to sloppy seconds as I love being the second man to fuck Sara. It didn't take me long to cum, adding my load to that of Dan's

The deep, foundational pulse of the sub-basement escapement wheel didn't remain confined to the reinforced concrete vault. By the second week of July, that slow, rhythmic 'thump' seemed to have bled upward through the old timber joists of the DUMBO warehouse, anchoring the forty-two Glitches in a collective, unhurried focus. The chaotic, frantic energy of their initial weeks had completely distilled into a smooth, deliberate momentum.

In the room it is only breath and the smell of sex and beer and wet wool. “Second half,” Cara says, hoarse. Malik glances at the delayed clock, then at her wrecked smear on the window. “They’re still waiting,” he says. “We’re not.”

“You got sloppy and greedy.” ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Marcus lunged for the remote. I was faster, snatching it away. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“Sit. Down.” I didn’t raise my voice. “Or the next thing that plays is a compilation I’ve already sent to the SEC, the FBI, and the Wall Street Journal. The subject line is ‘Bennett & Associates A Corporate Coup.’ It’s scheduled to send in…” I made a show of checking my watch. “Twenty-three minutes.” ‎

"Are we leaving now? Can we leave now? How long until we leave? Is it time? Is it almost time?" I check my phone. "Twenty-eight minutes." "That's SO LONG. That's like forever. That's like a hundred years. That's—" "It's twenty-eight minutes," Ethan says from the table, not looking up from his waffles. "That's exactly 1,680 seconds. Which is a long time in seconds but not a long time in minutes. It depends on how you measure it." "Well, it FEELS like forever," Alexander insists. "Feelings aren't the same as facts."

They’ll be on this place like ants on a hill soon. Andrew held up one of the needles he’d been preparing. He’d only had time to work up a few of these, and it still needed testing. Might only work for a short period, might not work at all. Well, no time like the present, he said to himself, sticking it in his arm and depressing the end. He shook his head, feeling a little strange, but before he could do anything else he saw Suzanne in the room again; she looked distraught. ‘What?’ he asked, and all she said was ‘Bridget.’

LUCIEN'S POINT OF VIEW. The glow of my phone screen is the only light in my car. I sit parked in front of Sloane's house with a smirk on my face as I scroll through her I*******m page. Her little profile picture stares back at me. It's a picture of her face; she smiles at the camera with that smug, bookish grin like she doesn’t know how much it ruins me every time I see her cherry red lips around me. It's been 731 days, 17,544 hours, 1,052,640 minutes, 63,158,400 seconds. Since I've forced the urge to kiss her the way I want to. Since I've restrained my need to claim her and finally make her mine for real

I call back sweetly. “Lex, how long was that?” “Ninety-seven seconds. I thought it would be faster. Better give us a buffer, just in case” she advises. “Yeah. That’s a good call. Ten seconds?” I nod and pout my lip as I rinse out the shampoo. “I haven’t been out in for a long time. I’m itching to go. Ten seconds is way more than enough. We just have to shift quickly.” “Okay. You’re not exaggerating, right? If you tell me ten seconds, I’m giving you ten seconds.”