Novelas y relatos de The Player

The other eight players scramble for position around the gyrating couple on the floor. One black player, that I recognize as the wide receiver, positions his meaty pole near Danae's face and pulls her head towards him. She leans forward and sucks his cock into her mouth, while continuing to rock feverishly against the huge black cock in her pussy. A white player, whose name I don't know, is probing her asshole with his fingers, spitting on them to lubricate her opening. Another player hands him a bottle of hand lotion to use on her ass and he squirts it all over his fingers and into her puckered opening.

“We make a good team.” “We don’t have a team,” I muttered under my breath. He grinned. “Not yet.” Ignoring him, I walked past the crab-shaped figure and stopped in front of the Dancer’s Pose. Something about it caught my eye. It looked harder than the rest, but at least it didn’t make me look like a crawling idiot. “Player 0467 has chosen Dancer’s Pose,” the voice echoed. Hoodie guy let out a small laugh behind me. “Dancer’s Pose, huh?”

Every person who had underestimated me. I smiled, a cold, dangerous smile. They won’t see me coming. And then my phone buzzed, an unknown number. “Tonight, the first move begins,” a text read. I looked up, heart racing. The city lights outside reflected in my window, painting streaks of red and gold. Adrian was right. This was war. And I was already in it. The thought made my pulse race, fear, excitement, and something else I didn’t dare name. I was no longer just Nora Vaughn, the obedient daughter. I was a player. And Adrian Cole… he was both my ally and my storm.

Suddenly, a player collapsed from low blood sugar, the back of his head smacking against the cold tile floor as blood pooled beneath him. A player warily asked, "Is he... dead?" Several people in white coats appeared with a stretcher, quickly loaded the player on it, and covered him with a white sheet. Then, janitors came and cleaned up the blood on the floor. It all happened in the blink of an eye. Soon, the system broadcasted, "Player 93's energy level has reached zero. He has been eliminated. Debt: one million dollars." The number of elimination announcements was exceptionally high today, and the player count was plummeting.

“Instance loading complete. New player account bound!” The voice was a flat, synthetic drone in my skull. A massive, translucent panel materialized in the void before me, numbers glowing with cold finality. “Player ID: 666666.” “Level: 0.” “Points: 0.”

I glare at him from my spot on the floor, I'm sure I look anything but intimidating right now, more like an angry toddler who just landed on their butt. I can't seem to see James or Vincent anywhere, that's strange I think to myself but shrug it off as I begin to be dragged forward. I'm dragged through a large hall, through huge wooden doors into what looks like a throne room. Before me sits a large man draped in a purple cape with a golden crown perched upon his head full of hair, I assume that he is the king. I've never met the king before or seen him in person but I have seen pictures and he seems to fit the profile. Next to him is seated a young man who is no older than 23 or 24, he too

Chrystal stayed glued to Oliver, listening to the vast list of last names in the Dunroch sector until finally, they heard the last word, "Gunn" "Now, press 1." Oliver pressed the button with the number 1; seconds later, the robotic voice told them the number was disabled, but the address was still valid; both young people chose to know the address of Collette Gunn, making a mental note in Chrystal's head so she wouldn't forget any details. Unlike Dinashia, the redhead didn't know Neshala very well, she had only been to the beach a couple of times with her family, but it was nothing that a few questions to pedestrians couldn't solve.

Gently Slipping It's 6:50 pm, an hour early. She rolled her neck, stuffing her uniform in a backpack in a designated locker labeled C in the dressing room. Her black heels followed after the bag. Out of uniform, she rolled off her underwear and went to the adjacent room for a long soak.

Then stopped as if remembering something. " But if he's called off the bet, how the hell are we going to know if he really has feelings for you?" She asked. I pondered on it for a while and thats when I smirked. " Just because a player quits doesn't mean the game's over." I said and stared ahead. Ariana watched me keenly. " And what do you have in mind?" She asked menacingly. I chuckled. " Its a game right?" " Right." " Then we keep on playing...." I said and glanced at her. She grinned wildly and hugged me tightly.

All for what? Dylan kept breathing down on me, glaring harshly, still holding onto him. "Please." I added, lifting my left hand, wrapping it slowly around his. "Let's go." He commanded, dropping the other guy who fell loosely on the floor. Still glaring, he stormed out of the room. I glanced at the Richmond High player on the floor, nose bleeding badly, he'll need to get that check upon. I switched to the door, watching Dylan strut away and speedily rushing after him.