The Confessions Of Frannie Langton Book Novels & Stories

he said, stressing the word 'nanny' that pissed me big time. I balled my fist. “I'll tell Dylan that you entered my bedroom without my permission.” He pushed his hands inside the pocket of his pants. He stared at me. “If you tell him, he would think that you're having an affair with me.” I froze. “What?!” “He doesn't trust you, miss Samantha. He told me to install a camera in the whole mansion, that only means, he doesn't trust you.” he answered, shaking his head. I looked down. I feel ashamed. “He doesn't have the rights to suspect me, and he can't blame me, he lured me and took everything away from me.”

“WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE LODGE.” I didn’t open them. Not until I was home. Showered. Alone. Back in the armor of city lights and sharp suits. Then I did what I always do. I poured a glass of red. Opened my laptop. And braced for the mess. But I wasn’t prepared for this. Title: “Locked In: A True Story of Lust in the Storm” By: Jax Hart I blinked. Then clicked. The bastard had published a preview. A whole fucking chapter. On his newsletter. To over two million subscribers.

Outside, everything was ice and frost Dorian’s version of safe. He had wanted her out of the city while the heat cooled. A dozen news cycles had passed since the trial, since the last arrest. But silence, she learned, was never safe; it was an echo chamber. She walked back to the desk. Highlighted the whole paragraph. Cut it. Typed again. “This book is not a confession. It is a record. Of power, of violence, of velvet and blood. And of the people who lived inside it some survived. Some did not.”

"I was still conscious at that time. I just couldn't move. I heard what you said." Esmerelda's eyes widened. She had said more than just that. Frantic, she asked, "Mom, did you only hear that one line? Was there anything else?" Ruth was stunned. She asked coldly, "You said more?" Relief flooded over Esmerelda. As she blinked, tears rolled down her cheeks. She flung herself on the bed and grabbed Ruth's hand, saying, "Mom, Clara was accusing me, and I lost my temper. I was just momentarily confused. You know me. I was just throwing a fit…"

“Please, I need to cum.” “Not yet.” His eyes are dark, predatory, nothing like the gentle priest I’ve watched at mass. “You wanted to confess, little lamb. So confess. Tell me everything you’ve done while thinking about me.” “I touched myself.” I’m squirming in his lap, desperate for friction he won’t give me. “Every night after mass.” “How?” His fingers move just slightly inside me, a tease. “Show me what you did.” “I have things. In my bedroom.” My face heats even as my body throbs. “Things I used while thinking about you.”

*** I woke up from my long nap and turned to wake Dan but he was fast asleep, he told me Gabriel had cancelled coming and I have never felt that much relief. I walked to the bar downstairs with just my red net see-through bra and panties, I always love to look sexy and sex appealing. I just got to the bar and poured a cognac for myself still shivering at the thoughts of my early morning adventure. “ You really like that bar.” A voice called from the side “ What the heck! Who is that?” I blurted out, eyes scanning the room. “You look so damn sexy on this set too,” Gabriel said walking into the light his eyes fixed on my tits

Her confession today was different; not the usual petty transgressions of thought, but something deeper, more unsettling. "I… I have been having… impure thoughts, Father," she confessed, her voice barely audible. "Thoughts that shame me. Thoughts of… flesh. Of touch. Of wanting…" She trailed off, her cheeks flushing a deep scarlet visible even in the dim light. Father Michael clenched his fists, the cheap fabric of his cassock rough against his skin.

Sometimes I would grind against my pillow, imagining his touch, imagining riding him, moaning his name, taking him deep inside me as I shivered and came. I knew it was wrong, horrible even, considering he was a priest, someone the town respected. But I couldn’t stop myself. Today, I had decided to come clean, to confess my sins to him, certain that as a priest, he would forgive me. Forgive me for my lewd thoughts, my sinful actions, and guide me back to the right path. So when the silence in the confessional booth stretched long enough, I parted my lips, my voice soft and nervous, and tried to spill everything.