Spit Swapping Novels & Stories

Geralda looked at me intensely. I nodded, according to what I had seen during my journey to the past dimension, my biological mother and father had intended to swap me with Alpha Felix and Luna Yelena's real daughter. "The baby swap has happened," Nicholas murmured, and I could hear him. "Rachel is being looked after by my birth mom and dad?" Geralda nodded. She snapped her fingers when my answer was correct. "Right." I took a deep breath. I continued what had been going through my mind.

Luis Park called. "THE POWER THAT IS MADE ONLY FOR ME! TASTE THIS!!!!" Luis Park moves his head backwards, lowering, and ready to spit. 'SPIT!' Luis Park spitted his saliva at this God! The Acidic Saliva that can melt stones! 'Haha! You'll taste the power that God bestowed me!' Luis Park thought. "Hahaha!" Yet! It was a miss! "....." "Can you even spit that out straight! Your fucking blind!" "Hahaha!" Butt laughed at this animal idiosyncratic mind.

Every month on the 15th is the day I swap lives with Melody Foster. 18 years ago, a hospital mix-up places our IVF embryos in each other's mothers. After the truth comes out, my biological parents want their real daughter, and my adoptive parents want theirs. They arrange for Melody and me to rotate between the two homes on a monthly basis, switching every 15th. From then on, I become the burden neither family wants. In whichever home Melody stays, there are endless snacks and drinks, thousands of dollars in monthly allowance, and the sunny bedroom is always reserved for her. In whichever home I stay, there's nothing but plain meals and a windowless storage room. 18 years later, I

"I got this from a church far away. The priest said it's blessed. Write your wish down, and it comes true." Zacharias smiled. "Thought all the reading would make you more grounded in reality. Guess you're still superstitious." I beamed. "I am grounded in reality, but just this once, I want to believe in the supernatural. Just for you." Something in his eyes gleamed, and then with determination, he wrote down his wish. He hung the rosary on a tree, and it swayed in the wind. As I took a closer look, I realized the wish he made had nothing to do with himself. Still, I teared up.

I gagged, choked, eyes watering. He pulled back, slowly dragging his cock out of my mouth. His cock was slick and covered with ropes of spits, which connected to my lip. He held the base of his cock and slapped it teasingly on my face. I giggled, sniffing him. He opened me up, bent a little, gathered spit and slowly dropped it into my mouth, warm and salty. Before I could swallow, he bucked his hips, his cock slamming deep in my throat. His head popped back. “Oh, fuck.”

" I hit the gas and drove off. I returned the gift, went back to my apartment, and packed my things. Now all I had to do was wait for the appointment—then I'd be moving in with my new groom. After dinner, one of my studio colleagues called. I braced myself, thinking she was going to tell me we'd lost money on canceled wedding flowers. I was about to say I'd cover it—but she was crying. "Ms. Powell, what do we do? The national floral exhibition project—Derek stole it. They bid half our price. "But the flowers are already on the way. If we lose the deal, we eat the cost ourselves. That's easily over a million…"

Lucienne looked at Damien who looked absolutely irritated. "I asked, what did you use?" "I... I only made green tea" she mumbled, getting slightly terrified by his face. "Don't joke with me, Cherry!" "I... I am not. What do you mean?" She mumbled. Damien grabbed her and made her sand straight, he leaned closer to her, closing his eyes with his face barely buried in her neck. "You used the body spray!" He affirmed. "I... Is this about that?" Lucienne asked.

he said. "Your team took our slot," she said, without greeting, without preamble, because they were not people who greeted each other and preamble was a waste of everyone's time. "Our coordinator submitted a request and it was approved," he said, equally direct, which she would have appreciated under any other circumstances. "That's not taking a slot. That's following procedure." "The procedure failed to check that the slot was already confirmed. My confirmation predates yours by two weeks." "Then the procedure failed, not the football team."

The humiliation mixed with pleasure made my eyes roll back. He flipped me onto my back, spreading my legs wide. From the drawer he pulled out the vibrator and the small whip. He turned the toy on high and pressed it firmly against my clit while his mouth returned to my entrance. The combination was overwhelming. I screamed into the fabric gag, body arching violently as the first orgasm ripped through me.

Spit dripped down my chin; tears pricked my eyes from the fullness at both ends. They moved in rhythm, Alex in when Elliot out, out when Alex in. Pleasure built relentlessly; my cock throbbed untouched, leaking onto the sheets. Moans vibrated around Elliot's length; Alex's hands gripped my hips, bruising. They sped up—slaps echoing, wet squelches, groans blending. Alex came first—hot flood deep inside, pulling out to smear the excess across my cheeks. Elliot followed in my mouth—pulses down my throat, some spilling over my lips. I swallowed greedily, body shaking.