1. Laws of Attraction: The Playgirl


    Date: 10/13/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Anal, BDSM, Incest, Romance, Young, Author: Liv Beornwulf, Rating: 0, Source: sexstories.com

    that you have attempted Questions 2 and 6 the incorrect way. Would you be bothered if I come over and lend you a helping hand?” Honestly, that left me looted of any word. One: How had Tyrone come to have knowledge of my telephone number? In my eyes, he was a stranger. And I don’t give contact details to foreigners I don’t know inside out. How did he know it? He could be a spy, or he could be a thief. I have my faith pinned on Julie. She could never betray me on this, not even when presented with a big check interchangeable with piles and mountains of dollars. Two, how did he know I was working on an assignment? Does he have Superman eyes—eyes that allow him to look fixedly at my window from far there and still be able to keep track of every small act I am undertaking? I could be downloading porn or sex-ting some alien guy I don’t personally know on Twitter. I could be playing one of those erotic games where you have to peel off a woman her clothing, bit by bit. How come he is so positive that I am sweating on a goddamn assignment, and not browsing through an infinite list of YouTube videos? Three, he sounds definitely convinced that my laptop is a Dell brand name. Ever since I arrived at this university, I have never carried it with me anywhere public. It stays inside my room throughout—day in and day out. I swear that Tyrone has never set a foot inside my flat. Is he attempting to show me that he is a magician? Four, my assignment’s problems could be numbered in any ...
    peculiar, funny order. Say from capital letters A to F or Roman numerals I to VI. In any sequence and a normal human being is not supposed to know, save for when he is working on a duplicate, or let me say twin, of my god-cursed assignment. In rage, I questioned him, “What does all of this signify? That you are a sorcerer—is that it? Are you making use of magic to snoop on me, Tyrone?” He laughed helplessly. “I am not a necromancer. I am going to make everything clear once I get there. Am I welcome into your flat, Phoebe?” His tone—it had an otherworldly-like feel to it. I couldn’t accurately pinpoint it. It was just there, solid but obvious. “I receive you with open arms. Come here, please. I shall be marking time, loafing around until you finally show up. You better make it swift, I beg you.” This was all I could say, for the moment. FACEBOOK STATUS Tuesday, September 8 2015 11.06 AM One cute guy recently posted this: It only costs $0 to tell your woman that she looks good. Why is it so hard for some men to make their women feel special? He is right; very correct. Let me call him Hardin. His posts get liked by women and girls so often, because he has cute things to say about them. When he got into a relationship with this particular lady, other girls came out clean and admitted that they would sell their souls to the devil just to go out with him. As spooky as that might sound, that’s the truth—I mean that’s what happened. I typed this in response to him: That is a point worth your ...
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