Very Short Stories Novels & Stories

Fuck. Thе nеxt dау I tоld Selena thаt I didn't think Sharon hаd рееd when ѕhе саmе. I told hеr ѕhе probably was a guѕhеr. I hаd ѕееn it before оn ѕоmе p**n tаре and told hеr ѕоmе woman саn guѕh оut a watery female еjасulаtе when thеу оrgаѕm. I tоld hеr I had a plan for some payback fоr Ellen аnd Sharon аnd had hеr invite thеm to the cottage thiѕ wееkеnd.

Ava The “Make a Wish” app had taken the entire campus by storm in just two weeks. Everyone was posting secret desires they were too embarrassed to say out loud. Some asked for money, others for connections, a few for wild experiences. I had money — my parents made sure of that — so my wish was simpler, more personal. I wanted my virginity gone. Every relationship I’d tried had ended before we ever reached that point. I was tired of waiting, tired of wondering if something was wrong with me. So I typed it plainly: “I want to lose my virginity. No strings, just one night where I finally feel wanted.”

Prologue Kanua Village, Zambia; January, 1991 There was a murderous glow in the eyes of the ten year old Luyando Chimeko as she stood watch over her drunk and passed out father snoring away on the mat inside the tent that a good Samaritan had lent to them which they had come to regard as their home for the past one week.

"Did you crawl out of a sewer on the way in? This is a Fortune 500 company, not a bus terminal bathroom." "I had car trouble, Mr. Graham. And then a shoe incident. And then a puddle..." "I don't pay you for your tragic life story, Wanda," he cut in, slamming his tablet onto the desk. "I pay you to function. Bare minimum expectations. Coffee that's hot. Bagels that aren't stale. You failed at both. Congratulations." "I'm sorry, I—"

His pants dropped, revealing black boxer briefs strained by the thick bulge of his erection. He was enormous, the outline pressing insistently against the fabric. My pulse thundered in my ears, a reluctant curiosity blooming despite the dread. What would it feel like to have that inside me, stretching me to my limits? Rafe hooked his thumbs in the waistband and shoved the briefs down, his cock springing free. It was thick, veined, at least nine inches long, the head flushed and glistening with pre-cum. He stroked himself once, slowly, his eyes darkening as he watched my reaction.

My voice came out softer than I wanted. “You can.” His hand moved. His fingers brushed over my wrist as he turned the page. It was not an accident. I felt the rough pad of his thumb slide slowly across the inside of my wrist. He left it there for a second longer than he needed to. “But you have to stop being scared of the heat. This story has real heat in it, Lila. Don’t sand it down. Don’t make it polite. Write the dirty truth.”

Juliette had heard these horror stories from the previous receptionist. As she got closer to the door, she heard a thud as if he had thrown his shoe at the wall. He threw things, but most often his shoes, she’d learned. She bit her lip at the thought that at least it wasn’t an employee’s head. In the brief silence that followed the thud, she slowly opened the door to his office. He was still on the phone and beckoned her to enter. She shut the door behind her and began to lay out the lunch that she had brought on the long table mostly covered in papers by his desk.

I whispered, suddenly very aware of how thin my tank top was. He moved closer, stopping at the edge of my bed. “Yeah. You. I’ve been fantasizing about you for weeks, Jordan. Every time you walk around in those tiny shorts… every time you laugh at my stupid jokes. I can’t fucking take it anymore.” Before I could respond, he sat on the edge of the bed and reached for me. His hand cupped the back of my neck as he pulled me into a deep, hungry kiss. I moaned into his mouth, shocked but instantly melting. His tongue pushed past my lips, claiming me with raw need. One of his big hands slid under my tank top, groping my breast roughly.

"And we're not actually a family complication. We're just two adults who fell for each other." "An unconventional relationship." "Very unconventional," he agreed. "But some of the best things are."

One unforgettable summer had taught us how to stay. Some love stories begin with sparks. Ours began with years of waiting, quiet persistence, and one extraordinary summer that changed everything. And this time, we knew we were exactly where we were meant to be. The End.