Manuel Lobo

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryThe Art of Humming, or The God of Now Manuel Lobo011 years 7 months ago
StoryDeath Manuel Lobo211 years 8 months ago
StoryA very sharp fork Manuel Lobo311 years 8 months ago
CollectionLonely Stories Manuel Lobo011 years 8 months ago
CollectionOur Terrible Tale of Freedom Manuel Lobo011 years 8 months ago
StoryWe write later Manuel Lobo111 years 10 months ago
StoryUntitled One Manuel Lobo311 years 10 months ago
StoryUninspired Manuel Lobo011 years 10 months ago
StoryThe ghost has many faces! Manuel Lobo011 years 10 months ago
StoryTwenty three times I died before her Manuel Lobo211 years 10 months ago
StoryNote to the reader Manuel Lobo011 years 10 months ago
StoryThe mother of all whores Manuel Lobo011 years 10 months ago
StoryThe Nymph Manuel Lobo111 years 10 months ago
StoryOh, The Blood! Manuel Lobo011 years 10 months ago
StoryLearn to Remember Manuel Lobo311 years 10 months ago
StoryThe Time I Followed Her Manuel Lobo111 years 10 months ago
StoryHypocrite Manuel Lobo011 years 10 months ago
StoryDream no more Manuel Lobo311 years 10 months ago
StoryForbidden Manuel Lobo011 years 10 months ago
StorySmells and fluids Manuel Lobo312 years 8 months ago
StoryWe love you, cowards. Manuel Lobo512 years 11 months ago
StoryPhoenix Manuel Lobo312 years 12 months ago
StoryWoman Manuel Lobo313 years 2 weeks ago

My stories

Dream no more

Alone, twisted and wet.

Oh, The Blood!

When I woke up I was alone on the blue velvet couch. No sign of Camila or Ana. Thin brownish lines of dried blood ran down from my chest as a reminder.

We love you, cowards.

She was so sexual, like a hunting mother lion.

Forbidden

I felt sorry when I found out her vagina was just an unloaded gun, still warm and with a taste of deadly powder.

Death

You speak with a bullet in your tongue, and you sound ridiculous.

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