Story Tags Literotica Novels & Stories

He let out the friendliest of smiles, making Anderson very uncomfortable. Anderson stared back and forth between Suit and the scroll. His mind was racing. The contract sounded simple enough. Straightforward, but he did not understand. ‘What did he mean by survive the stories? Did he not say I was going to tell a story? What does survive the story mean?’ Question after question popped up into his head. He could not help himself. He had no idea exactly what it meant, but one thing was for certain; He would not move forward if he did nothing but constantly question the situation

The restaurant critic wrote about us. The review was a rave. I had it framed on my wall, and I told everyone I wanted to be buried with it. It said the desserts were— "surprisingly delicious and creative," the decor- "charmingly underrated," the service—"satisfactory," and the entertainment —"unparalleled in its energy which brought back childhood joy and pure comic appeal. Anyone who doesn't pay a visit for the sweets and the lovely atmosphere is a shame."

he asked. She thought for a second. “Ones that have happy endings.” “A romantic?” he asked. She never considered herself one. “I like noir—but the stories where the boy gets the girl in the end. Or vice versa.” “Top shelf,” he told her, indicating the back room. She went there and waited. What if he followed? What would that mean? She’d been out of the dating loop since she’d landed her current job, the one that had sucked up all her time, her mind, her soul, her life. Her fingers trailed over the broken spines of misused paperbacks, and she hoped he would follow her. But what would she say? What would she do?

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.

He brandished the book he was reading and said to Anna, "Look! Merpeople do exist! Sylvie is a mermaid. She was the one who rescued me from the ocean all those years ago…" "You've lost your mind, Connor." Anna snatched the book and tore out the page that spoke of merpeople before continuing, "Merpeople don't exist! You told me that yourself. You also promised that I'd be the only person you'd ever love. "Do you know that ever since the video of you and Sylvie went viral, I've become a laughingstock in Jewelton? Everyone is mocking me for being deluded and overestimating myself. They all say I'm just Sylvie's substitute!"

I’ll see you in the next story. With all my love, Lia’s Ink 💜

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

that I haven’t thought about myself. If this were really some W*****d kind of shit I’m in, then there must be something drastic to happen. However, when? What should I do? Yes, I’ve read fanfics about these kinds of stuff. But, I’m not them. I’m just an average human being. There’s nothing outstanding about me… If someone were to read this story, they’ll probably give up on the first few chapters. I mean, who wants to read a story about an introvert finally achieving her dream to escape reality and have something magical to her life?

“Alin do’n?” “May nagpapadala araw-araw ng litrato ko na puro stolen shots tapos may dedication pang nakalagay. Ang pinakahuli ay ‘yong kahapon na gusto mong i-upload kapag hindi pa ‘ko nagpakita sa’yo. Nakakahiya kaya‘yon. Nakanganga pa akong natutulog do’n.”

The Ghost: The Woman Jamia: ‘Where are you?’ Irina: ‘Starbucks,’ I said. ‘I’m having a burnout staying at home, so I am writing my story here.’ Jamia: ‘Is that a love story?’ Irina: ‘Hmmm, not really, but almost a love story,’ I said and placed the straw trapped between my lips. ‘It’s a sad story, though not tragic.’ Jamia: ‘Uh, I don’t like sad endings,’ she said. ‘What are you drinking?’