Sour Grapes Lyrics Novels & Stories

"See if it's sour. I hate sour grapes. Consider this your official debt repayment." I opened my mouth on autopilot and let him pop the grape in. Big mistake. It was like biting into betrayal. Sour didn't even begin to cover it. My entire face contorted like I'd just licked a lemon during a wind tunnel experiment. He stared at me, dead serious. "Sweet?" I nodded too fast. "So sweet. Honestly. Incredible. Peak grape." He pushed the entire bowl my way. "Great. They're all yours. Liam grew them himself - claims they're good for… facial nerve stimulation."

Deep. Tasting the fruit on my tongue, sharing it between us. I moaned softly into his mouth—hand sliding into his hair—pulling him closer. When we parted—both breathing a little harder—he picked up a grape. “Last one,” he teased—holding it between his teeth. I grinned—leaned in—and bit the other half. Our lips met in the middle—soft, sticky, sweet. The grape burst between us—juice spilling over our tongues—and we kissed through it—slow, messy, laughing into each other’s mouths as the fruit disappeared and all that was left was us.

The sweet scent of those grapes still lingers within me. “I used to like grapes a lot back then but not anymore… I'll consume more berries instead” I said, brushing off the nostalgic feeling. I hated remembering my past. I know Jax does these things to sicken me. Jax studied my expression and said with certainty in his voice. “One day, I'll walk you at night again, holding you in my arms and making you eat lots of grapes again” I glanced at him, suddenly puzzled. Why is he having these thoughts? How on earth was that supposed to happen? What a dreamer!

A bundle of grapes sat by his hand near my waist and Alex grabbed them. He pulled back for a split second, removed a few of the fruit from the stem then rolled one of the grapes on my clit. I shuddered and tried to pull away. Alex placed his hand on my navel, calming me not to move. I lifted my head and looked at him over the round tops of my breasts. I tried to smile but before I could, Alex slid a grape inside of me. “Ah!” My head collapsed on the bed again it hurts but I still want more of it. He pushed another one and the third one. I was so wet, so ready that I wanted Alex inside of me so badly.

“You have mentioned, Carlos, that the grapes are ready for harvest, are they really?” “Yes, signore. It was ready – they are beautiful and ripe and full. We are just waiting for you to say go and we’ll proceed. If you should, stomping on them is fun too! Them supple and plump, stains your clothes just alright, grande!” He ended, energetically smacking his lips, waving his hands about so as to prove his point.

I never knew which version of him I was going to get. “Try a grape for me,” he said. He held a small, green fruit toward my lips. “Tell me if it’s too sour. I hate wasting them.” I leaned forward again. The intimacy of it felt dangerous. His fingers grazed my chin this time. I bit into the grape, and a jolt of sharp, stinging acid flooded my mouth. I shuddered. It was aggressive, almost painful, but I forced my expression to remain flat. I wanted to see if I could rattle him back.

Raphael’s gaze lingered on the plump, glistening grapes. His fingers, still wrapped around the glass, twitched slightly before he set it back down on the edge of the tub. With those long, clean fingers, he plucked a single grape and, under Grace’s expectant stare, slowly brought it toward her lips. Grace’s eyes curved with delight as she parted her lips ever so slightly. Her tongue met the grape first, slowly drawing it into her mouth. Raphael’s eyes locked on her lips, unable to look away. Just as he was about to pull his hand back, he felt it—a soft, warm brush against his fingertips. It was quick, but unmistakable.

She began to speak, her voice a soft, clear bell in the oppressive silence. "Once upon a time," she said, "the sun loved this valley very much. It would wake up every morning and stretch its warm fingers down the terraces, and the grapes would stretch back, turning their faces to the light. And the grapes would whisper secrets to the sun, and the sun would listen, and that's why the wine from this valley tasted like happiness…" She told a simple, childish story. A story about the friendship between the sun and the grapevines. It was nonsense, and it was the most powerful magic any of them had ever witnessed.

Some of the creamy spinach soup had splattered onto the couch, wilted spinach clinging to the armrest in a slimy mess. A pang of regret hit me. This was the last meal I'd ever make for Jayden. Even tossing it would've been better than this. Now, it was smeared all over the floor, making the whole place feel gross. But Jayden wasn't done venting his anger. He grabbed the mahogany chair and slammed it into the wall. The concrete had only been applied that day, and the impact tore a chunk out. A pale hand stuck out from the crumbling wall. One look from Jayden, and he'd see my corpse stuffed inside.

If anyone knows about the correct owner then please let me know, so I can credit them. The lyrics are so gushy! I want someone to sing this song to me. 😂 Vote and comment my loves... ♥️♥️