Manuel Lobo

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryThe Art of Humming, or The God of Now Manuel Lobo011 years 5 months ago
StoryDeath Manuel Lobo211 years 6 months ago
StoryA very sharp fork Manuel Lobo311 years 6 months ago
CollectionLonely Stories Manuel Lobo011 years 6 months ago
CollectionOur Terrible Tale of Freedom Manuel Lobo011 years 6 months ago
StoryWe write later Manuel Lobo111 years 8 months ago
StoryUntitled One Manuel Lobo311 years 8 months ago
StoryUninspired Manuel Lobo011 years 8 months ago
StoryThe ghost has many faces! Manuel Lobo011 years 8 months ago
StoryTwenty three times I died before her Manuel Lobo211 years 8 months ago
StoryNote to the reader Manuel Lobo011 years 8 months ago
StoryThe mother of all whores Manuel Lobo011 years 8 months ago
StoryThe Nymph Manuel Lobo111 years 8 months ago
StoryOh, The Blood! Manuel Lobo011 years 8 months ago
StoryLearn to Remember Manuel Lobo311 years 8 months ago
StoryThe Time I Followed Her Manuel Lobo111 years 8 months ago
StoryHypocrite Manuel Lobo011 years 8 months ago
StoryDream no more Manuel Lobo311 years 8 months ago
StoryForbidden Manuel Lobo011 years 8 months ago
StorySmells and fluids Manuel Lobo312 years 5 months ago
StoryWe love you, cowards. Manuel Lobo512 years 8 months ago
StoryPhoenix Manuel Lobo312 years 9 months ago
StoryWoman Manuel Lobo312 years 10 months 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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