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The Writer and the Succubus

The Writer and the Succubus

This story is a bit silly, but brought to you by some friends who challenged me to turn the meme into a story. The same friends who later pushed me to make the succubus asexual, and the same friends that inspired the name of said succubus. They’re to blame.

Frontend Development

Frontend Development

Rose was, well, a hot mess. She’d been with Carey for the last five or so years, and today was the end of that. The breakup wasn’t pretty, well, at least Rose didn’t take it all that well. Carey had wanted someone exciting, spontaneous, and that was decidedly not something Rose could offer. As far as lesbian romances go, this was about par for the course.

Whispers

Whispers

The night air was warm and humid as I stood in the line to get into Southern Nights. There was just the one lesbian bar in town, and Kayla was determined to have me patronize the establishment post-haste. I’d had a rather ugly break up recently, and she was just trying to help. I’ve never been one for clubs or bars; just not my idea of fun, but it made her so very excited and that joy is somewhat contagious.