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To The Virgins To Make Much Of Time Poem

God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem

Ding~ [A message has been sent by the Gods] [Welcome chosen one to the World of Milfs for your trial to attain Godhood. Fulfill the Gods requests and obtain their approval to join us and become a God] [Fail your given request and meet your demise] Ding~ [A request has been sent by the Gods] [The God of Storms Synthia sends a request: Grope your adopted mother's buttocks till you leave marks on her ass] [The God of Music Calliope sends a request: Make your Aunt moan so loud that your neighbours can hear her sweet voice] [The God of Health Fiona sends a request: Lick of the curry that spilled on your neighbour's chest, while her husband watches tv in the room next door] [The God of Stars Noella sends a request: Blackmail your classmate's mother into sucking you off in her son's room] [The God of Wisdom Seraphina sends a request: Drink all the office lady's breast milk straight from the source, that was supposed to be for her baby] I see....So I basically have to do a bunch of naughty and perverted stuff that the Gods want to see me do with a whole lot of smoking hot milfs, for a chance to become God and save my life. What else can I say other then... WHAT KIND OF FUCKED UP JOKE IS THIS?!?! Want to know how this all came to be? Then follow our protagonist and his journey to become God by making his own Milf Harem (Warning: This novel is made by a Degenerate for Degenerates, so if you aren't into kinky stuff and prefer vanilla, then this novel isn't for you) •°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° [No NTR - No Yuri - No sharing - No system that assists the protagonist - No mind control - No blood related Incest - No drugs or potions that influence the girls - Hardcore Inseki - A lot of Netori and Stealing - Harem - Slice of Life Romance - No unnecessary Drama - A lot of fleshed out +18 scenes - Finally a very competent protagonist] [This novel is focused on Older Women and Milfs, so don't expect any younger girls unless there's a Oyakodon] [And finally I want all the interactions to feel natural and I want the readers to be invested in the characters, so the story will be fleshed out and not rushed in any way] discord.gg/9hKEN3duBw
AGodAmongMen · 4.3M Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 689.2K Views
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