How To Spell Banana

WARNING: RATED 18 VERY KINKY BL BOOK DEEP DARK DIRTY MxM FANTASY BOOK Dear Diary, I know you didn't see this coming, but I know exactly what Mason Grey tastes like, and I'm talking every single part of him. With love, Charlie Hearth.

When I was seven, my father brought home a beautiful lady who gave me a mango. That day, my mother watched me happily eating the mango while she signed her name on the divorce papers. After that, she jumped off the roof of our building. From then on, mangoes became the nightmare of my life. So on my wedding day, I told my husband, Alan Holt, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." Alan pulled me into his arms, quiet. From then on, mangoes became off-limits for him, too. On Christmas Eve of our fifth year of marriage, Alan's childhood sweetheart, Larissa Fennimore, left a mango on his desk at the office. The very same day, Alan announced he was cutting ties with Larissa and fired her from the company. That day, I truly believed he was the man I was meant to be with. Half a year later, I flew back from overseas, having just closed a partnership deal worth about 200 million dollars. At the celebration dinner, Alan handed me a drink. After I had finished half the glass, his so-called childhood sweetheart, the woman who had been kicked out of the company, stood behind me with a big grin and asked, "Does the mango juice taste good?" I stared at Alan in disbelief, and he was trying hard not to laugh. "Don't be mad. Larissa insisted I played a little joke on you. I didn't actually give you a mango; I just gave you a bottle of mango juice. But I think she's right. The fact that you don't eat mangoes is a real problem. You were really enjoying that juice just now." My face went cold. I lifted my hand and threw the rest of the mango juice in his face, then turned around and walked away. Some things are never a joke. I wouldn't kid around with mangoes or divorce.

Hands. So many hands. They're everywhere, sliding up my thighs, gripping my hips, tangling in my hair. I can't see their faces, but I don't need to. I feel them. Three of them, surrounding me, claiming me. One behind me, his chest pressed against my back, his breath hot against my neck. Another in front, his mouth trailing fire down my throat. The third watching, waiting, his presence a dark promise.* "You're ours," one of them growls, and the sound vibrates through my entire body.

The Empire of Suramy is the strongest amongst all the Kingdoms in the African continent, ruled by the tyrant, Emperor Zule, and his son, Prince Habeb. When they set their sights upon the kingdom of Muzagah, destruction is certain. Two siblings carry the fate of Muzagah on their shoulders. Banabella, the most beautiful woman on the continent, whose beauty is the cause for the war; and her younger brother, who blessed with the kiss from the gods is destined to subdue their enemy, and restore Muzagah's glory. The role of the gods will be questioned, as the pair face two defining paths: for self, or for glory?

Alya has been living in her cocoon since forever that stepping into NYC calls for an adventure. Or rather, to curb her wandering mind of what it feels like to have something you've been dreaming of- married to someone who has all the criteria you've seen only in movies. She leaves her comfort zone and dives into a life that has been scripted since day one. It can be two things, either a liberating experience to be someone who doesn't have to think much and just live the way it's been laid out, or to feel suffocated by how much scripted and planned everything is. Yummy DILF has been living his life in pretence. But if money can buy imagination who are we to judge him on that? He didn't exactly ask for our money to live that way, so leave the judgement by the door and come in for a read if you feel like you're open to this absurd pretence. *** "I need you to come for me." He orders in a stern tone after I've let out all sorts of noise while he tongue-fucked me. It finally dawns on me that I'm being a desperate bitch I never wanted to be when I first accepted this job. What have I become? "Come for me, B." His finger is pressing me into following his order to which I reluctantly shake on his mouth. As quiet as it began, it ends in the same way as he helps me with my thong and pulls down my dress to its original state. Stepping in my view he smiles at me smugly, "See, being my wife isn't always so difficult."

After more than two years of marriage, Logan filed a divorce because his first love had returned. Brianna accepted it but demanded compensation for the divorce agreement. Logan agreed, and he prepared all the necessary documents. In the process of their divorce agreement, Logan noticed the changes in Brianna. The sweet, kind, and obedient woman transformed into a wise and unpredictable one. "Who are you, Brianna?"Join Logan in finding his wife's true identity and their journey to their true happiness!