X Freaks Novels & Stories

“Well, I’ve got this Frito Lay Potato Chips!… Will this work?” “Sour Cream and Onion?! They’re my favorite!… Okay, I’ll go get a bowl… I mean, may I?” she asked already on her way to getting one. “Help yourself.” He can’t seem to say no to this girl - this pretty girl! He had never brought anyone into his apartment in a long time and he couldn’t deny how much he was enjoying her company. Herbie poured the whole bag of chips into the bowl and put on the television. They were not really watching, they just liked hearing sounds other than their voices.

“Shut up you stupid maggots!” =============:p PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO VOTE, COMMENT, SHARE AND FOLLOW. THANKS A LOT BABY WEIRDOS. FOR MORE IMPORTANT UPDATES PLEASE VISIT THE FOLLOWING: F******k: Sam Velasquez F* Page: Samx Writes Twitter: @Oddly_Weird_Mis I*******m: @itssam_velasquez Happy reading Baby Weirdos Love, Sam.

'X' ** Hey, Sisters! Check out this book's I*******m page and join us there: I*******m: @voodooqueensnola

"You know, she'd always been my favorite. What did you say, Africa ey? To fucking do what? Colonize?" "She's going for her Master's degree in African Cultural and Creative Arts." He gives me a 'what the crap are you talking about? Face'. "The one thing that keeps her sane?" He still doesn't understand. "Her obsession, her Orgasm." Who the hell calls their Job their Orgasm? Yeah, Jenny. With the thought of me calling mass communication my Orgasm creeps up and I shuddered. "Oh...yeah, Wow! That's amazing. You should be happy for her Xena. Wait. You're not happy for her?"

In my pursuit of excitement, I lay on the bed with my legs open, frantically pleasuring myself in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Through the dark glass, I could see a strong man on the balcony opposite staring at my body intently. This extreme taboo made my scalp numb, and I grew increasingly depraved. I tried my best to arch my back as I became a shameless, irrational, and thrill-seeking tart. My name was Layla Terra, and I was a dance student.

This is the fastest orgasm I've ever had while having sex and I didn't even get a head. “Fuckkk, I'm cuming!” I groaned loudly as I released loads of cum into her wet cave.

"My favorite team has a bout tonight. It's actually a double header, but I wanted to go to see High Rollers battle it out against Bone Breakers." "I take it you're a High Rollers fan?" She blushed a warm shade of embarrassment, and her eyes softened in the cutest way. "Actually, I'm a Grim D. Mise fan. She happens to be a High Roller." "What's a Grim D. Mise? Keep in mind, I know nothing about roller derby."

"Yeah, I did. So back off. My husband wouldn't be cool with this." His face dropped. Like actually glitched. Just stood there, stunned. Dana, clutching her baby bump like it meant something, put on her soft, tragic voice. "Claire, you don't have to punish yourself by marrying a freak just because you're jealous I married Michael. I won't feel right about it if you do this." I frowned. Classic Dana—fake sweet with a side of snake. "What freak? My husband is not a freak." She stepped closer, eyes scanning my outfit. Her smile dropped, jaw tightened.

Xana slips on a hot-pink satin minidress complete with matching pink heels. “Damn, we still have it,” Xana says as we look ourselves over in my bathroom mirror. “We’re only twenty-seven, of course, we still have it. Now, I’m not sure if still have the dance moves or the stamina to hang out past midnight.” “Challenge accepted.” She laughs. We grab an Uber and head out, spending the next few hours dancing, laughing, and having too many fruity cocktails. “By the way, any new updates on Mr. Vaughn? Oh, should we keep calling him Mr. Eiffel Tower, if you know what I mean?” She gives a very dramatic wink, making me laugh.

The words I uttered surprised even myself. Cierra blinked. “Okay, that's huge. But I love that you're telling your truth.” “I know. I need this. I need a reminder that I exist outside of all the pain and heartbreak I harbour.” “But we'll start somewhere. We'll start with travelling. We're going on a vacation, bitch,” she said, screaming. Her excitement was so contagious, I was up and twerking with her in seconds. We spent the afternoon walking through the small art gallery near my place, my hands brushed over canvases. I laughed at pieces that looked ridiculous but we're termed modern art.