The Straight Story Book Novels & Stories

I can tell Uncle Leo we aren't ready yet. 'I'm sure. I don't think it will help us, but it won't hurt either.' She said. I picked up the book. It was an old, deep brown, leatherbound book with the title in gold leaf. 'Tales of Olde'. It was heavier than I expected. Uncle Leo hadn't told me the title of the story so I skimmed the contents page. None of the titles mentioned an unnamed wolf. I sighed.

* She moaned softly, thighs pressing together around her hand, the pressure coiling tight. Jax's parting words echoed *Drop your dirtiest reading experience* and she did, typing one-handed: *This story? Made me cum reading it on the toilet at work, panties in my mouth to stay quiet. Now living it. Your turn.* Submissions poured in: a woman detailing her first anal in a club bathroom, the burn and fullness making Zelda's untouched ass clench in curiosity; a guy confessing to jerking off in the car to a similar tale, cumming so hard he stained the seat; couples sharing how they'd role-played it, her riding him reverse while reading aloud, both shattering together.

The next adventures called and they answered hand in hand. The book of their story settled into place with that final glide. Strong. True. Endless.

The room was a labyrinth of shelves. He selected a thick brown book his fingers brushing mine as he handed it over and I could have sworn that it was intentional. “Read aloud,” he instructed, settling into a chair that was way too close, his knee touching mine. My voice trembled through the verses, each word a caress building the heat between us.

Chapter 6 I burned the letter before dawn. The flames curled around Dominic’s handwriting until every word turned to ash. I understood why he had asked me to do it. He did not want me dragged into further trouble. He did not want the children to grow up under another shadow. He did not want the village to twist his final choice into another story for people to gossip about. After Marcus and his friends died, the village changed overnight. No one came to our house demanding money anymore.

Aiden and I sat in between Leo and Zoey’s bed. I was holding their favorite storybook, my fingers gently traced the familiar cover. The story In the book is a tale about brave wolves protecting their pack, it’s a story of strength, courage, and family love. Leo was already dozing off, his soft breathing steady and peaceful as Shenaya read aloud. Zoey, however, was wide awake, her big, curious eyes fixed on me as I continued to read. Even Aiden was already dozing off beside me too trying to catch his head now and then.

“Please? Pretty please?” I sighed and finally relented, although my fingers were already black from handling this seemingly ancient book. I flipped to the next page, where the story immediately began. There was no cover page, and no title to be seen anywhere. “Once upon a time,” I read, deciding that it wasn’t worth arguing about and that I could make something up if the story got strange, “there was an old man who lived all by himself.” A strange premise for a kids’ book, I thought to myself, but kept reading.

I consoled him and gave him some water. “She locked me up in the store room” “WHAT? IN THE STOOR ROOM? HOW DID YOU COME HERE! Tell me everything.” I questioned. “I was locked inside since morning and when she opened me up, I ran and hid here. She warned me that she’ll lock me again if I told this to anyone.” I stood up and as I went forward Zac held my leg and started to cry. “Please don’t go. I don’t want to get locked please.”

Suit pouted childishly at Anderson, and continued, “Do we have a deal, Mr. Anderson?” 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 ten 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.

My father opened the bag . There were many books in that bag .He picked a book and gave it to me . He said to me "Go and read this book ." I asked " Which book is it ?" He stood up and replied " There is a true story written in it " "Which story "I asked . "The true story of that weird house " "True story?" "Yes , true story ". "But...…but …,how …..?" "You know what " "What?"