Fun Stories の小説・ストーリー

Why is it so hard to understand? I can't even recall the last time I was genuinely happy. As I forced out those words, swallowing my pride with a heavy heart, I tried to snap out of my mood by calling my buddies who were always up for some whiskey. In less than an hour they arrived at Concave Bar ready to party and drink till dawn. For a few minutes, as we drank and danced, Nathan suggested, "Hey how about we play a game to liven things up? It's Friday night, after all."

TABLE OF CONTENTS Prologue CHAPTER ONE – ROAD TO RIYA CHAPTER TWO – APEX PREDATOR CHAPTER THREE – HUNTING PARTY CHAPTER FOUR – TRAPPED CHAPTER FIVE – CAPITAL’S TRUTH Bonus story  A BEAUTIFUL DAY TO DIE YOUNG * CHAPTER ONE – THE INVITE TO DEATH * CHAPTER TWO – BAD FRIENDS, BAD * CHAPTER THREE – CRUMBLING FLESH OF CHILDREN  THE BIRTH OF ERIC KANE  BLOODY METELE  WRONG TURN  MYSTERIES OF FATE  DOCTOR BROWN  LATE KATE FOSTER You are about to journey through a story or should I say stories of suspense and survival. The story of Roxanne, Eric Kane,,, Ariana, Thieves, and A Christian and an Atheist

The room was filled with an infectious energy, a blend of friendship, humor, and the thrill of discovering life’s unpredictable beauty. As the night wore on, our conversation grew more relaxed and playful. We swapped stories of our most embarrassing moments, each tale wilder than the last. I recounted the time I had accidentally walked into the wrong classroom and sat through an entire lecture before realizing my mistake. Favour shared a hilarious anecdote about a disastrously overcooked dinner in her first shared apartment, and Gift boasted about her uncanny ability to misplace her phone even when it was in her hand.

Some stories weren’t meant to end. They just waited until after hours to start again.

Pinky squinted to read it, her eyes tracing the loops and crosses. "Collection of short stories for ladies," the title read. "Stories of desire, of awakening, of the first time." Pinky blinked, her eyes widening as she read on. The handwriting was feminine, secretive, as if the writer were sharing her most guarded thoughts with only the pages. It was a confession. A revelation. As she began to read.

“Says the Alpha who gave his Luna oral sex in dream land.” “That would actually a very interesting story plot.” “Exactly why we should be doing more adventurous things while fucking…to spice up our lives and make good story plots.” “Hmm.” “Yeah, you mentioned one time that Everlery likes writing…she can write erotica stories with what we do and who knows? We might be the inspiration to a bestseller book.”

he asked, disappointment laced in his tone. “Tell me a story,” she said, watching as his expression shifted from disappointment to confusion. “A story?” he muttered. “What kind of story?” “Don’t you know what a story is? Bedtime stories, novels, memoirs, biographies—things like that.” “Is that a joke?” he laughed. “Your lifestyle is so boring. How does a story entertain anybody? Horror, thrillers, silly romance, history—blah, blah, blah. It’s a waste of time.”

I nibbled the head with my tongue and heard him growl loudly. ‎I felt him jerk and then he came, hot, thick, and down my throat. ‎"Swallow it all, honey," he ordered. ‎And I obeyed, taking every last bit of it. This is exactly what I wanted. To be continued in story 6 ‎**Author's Note" ‎Thanks for reading and supporting my book. I appreciate 💯 I've more steamy stories that would get you turned on. ‎

The next story Laura Figures. The night I drag myself here, Fantasies is suffocating with bodies. The one night I need release after a week from hell, the place is pulsing with noise and sweat. Everywhere I turn, heat and perfume press in, laughter cutting through the bass. It is not just crowded; it is overwhelming—the kind of crush that makes me wonder if I have lost my mind thinking this is the cure for burnout.

We talked for hours as the night wore on. “You really thought about quitting because of burnout?” I asked, tracing a finger along his chest. “Yeah. Days blurred together. Then you started coming in regularly. Made me look forward to shifts again.” He smiled in the low light. “What about you? Why history?” “I like stories that last,” I said. “People who lived real lives hundreds of years ago. Makes my problems feel small.” We laughed softly. Then the touching started again. This time I climbed on top, riding him slow while we kept talking. He looked up at me like I was something special. His hands roamed my body, squeezing my breasts, guiding my hips.