Fascination Short Stories & Novels

"Mmm… No… You can't touch this part…" In the car dealership, my client drives around in his new car with his right hand resting on my thick and supple thigh. Slowly, he begins hiking my miniskirt upward. I'm a beautiful saleswoman working in the shop. Now I'm wearing a pair of crotchless black stockings and a short pencil skirt. The catch is, I'm going commando beneath my skirt. Truthfully speaking, I'm already flooding down there thanks to the client's touch…

"Mr. Harrison, this new toy has incredible suction skills. I guarantee it can fix your problem." Never in my wildest dreams would I expect that my husband would make me disguise myself as a sex doll to help treat his boss' impotence, all just to secure a promotion and a raise for himself.

Since I moved into this apartment, I kept dreaming about a man every time I fell asleep. The man told me he was my husband. However, I had only just started college. When I woke up, my lower back ached, and my body felt sore. My neighbor was a psychologist, and he prescribed some medication to help me sleep. Unfortunately, the dreams became even more real. One night, the man leaned close to my ear and whispered, “You can’t escape me.”

For the sake of my happiness with my boyfriend, I decided to go to the hospital to treat my congenital narrowness. But the attending physician turned out to be my boyfriend's friend—and the treatment plan itself made my face flush and my heart race. "During the course of treatment, there will be a great deal of intimate physical contact. That's unavoidable," he said. "For example, kissing, touching, and…"

"No... No, you can't..." The patient says his desire is a little too strong and wants me to use my body to help him for a medical checkup. He then makes me lose myself in the moment in just a few moves...

"S-Stop it! You guys are far too big for me! I can't handle you at all!" In the dark slums, a few impoverished men have me lifted in mid-air. I can feel four pairs of rough, callused hands parting my slender legs, revealing my panties. "And here you are, pretending to be pure and innocent! Look at how wet you are right now! You must be yearning for our touch, right?" After that, the men rip off my damp panties before pinning me down…

"Please… stop pushing. I can't move." The concert crowd was packed and restless, bodies pressed tightly together. I found myself too close to the girl in front of me. She wore a short skirt that brushed against me every time the crowd surged. What caught my attention was how close we were: the faint warmth of her body through the thin fabric made my pulse quicken. For a brief moment, I thought I felt her react too, as if she sensed the same strange tension hanging between us.

Lately I've been in a bad mood, so my friend suggests that I see a traditional medicine practitioner. But I dare not do that, for I'm addicted to carnal pleasure. Rumors have it that a traditional medicine practitioner can easily tell what my addiction is. Unfortunately, my body keeps going through changes I can't explain, so I can only head toward a clinic on my own. As expected, the way the practitioner looks at me shifts instantly. "You've been longing to get screwed out of your brains, right?" He pins me on the desk before tugging off my damp panties…

"Ah… Slow down… My husband hasn't even ended the call yet…" I slump on the floor with my butt raised high. As I listen to my husband's instructions, I continue to shift positions every now and then. Meanwhile, the gym trainer has one hand latching onto my hip while smacking my butt heavily with the other. Under my husband's instructions, he thrusts forward heavily…

"Hank, there's something hard down there pushing into me." On the driving school car, I was teaching my goddaughter how to drive by letting her sit on my lap, my hands over hers on the wheel. But right after we started, the engine stalled, and the whole car jerked hard. Her round hips settled deep into my thighs. To make things even more intense, she was wearing nothing but a skirt that barely covered her.

I was a woman with a strong appetite for intimacy. After a car accident, however, my husband couldn't get it up anymore…

After I became mentally challenged, my godmother, Fenelle Porter, took care of me personally. She not only massaged me and helped me exercise, but she also never resisted my touch. My godfather, Sam Porter, took advantage of my situation and was always intimate with Fenelle in front of me. Little did they know that I had already recovered. While Fenelle and Sam were video chatting, and she was using toys to pleasure herself during the video call, I put myself into her. Sam was completely unaware all along.

"Don't move!" Coming home late from work, I was sneaking a shower in the shared bathroom of my rental when a warm body suddenly pressed up against me. His rough palm clamped over my mouth, pinning me against the cold tile. He held me there against the damp wall, his skin burning hot against my back as he let out a low, gravelly threat. "My guys are right outside. Just try and scream." Instead of panicking, I leaned back into him, shifting slightly. I tilted my head back and breathed softly into his ear. “So… you want everyone hear? I don't mind… we can give it a try.”

My Valenese neighbor dressed like a temptress—curves in all the right places, a delicate body topped with a pair of full, heavy breasts. Her name was Ayame. When she came by that evening to ask my husband to fix her computer, I heard the unmistakable sounds of pleasure drifting from the other room. "Wanna try my new tongue stud? Consider it your payment for the repair." Then came my husband's moans of pure, shameless delight. I couldn't help but feel jealous. It had been so long since he'd sounded that happy with me. As I listened, my hand slid slowly beneath the waistband of my pants. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. I'd heard that Ayame's husband had a full ring of piercings down below. I'd been craving a taste for ages. If Ayame could seduce my husband, then I'd take my own turn sampling those piercings.

My landlady, Irene Hogan, is a divorced woman who still oozes sex appeal for someone her age. Her daughter, Meredith Lowe, is extremely blessed when it comes to her feminine assets. We live under the same roof. One stormy night, as I lie in my bed, I take out the pair of pink panties belonging to Meredith so that I can have fun jerking off to it. To my shock, Meredith opens the door to my room immediately. She just stares at me while clad in a pair of thin pajamas. For a moment, I'm shocked beyond my wits, thinking that Meredith has caught me red-handed for stealing her panties. But she tells me, "Mr. Melton, the storm is really scary tonight. My mom's not home at the moment, so can I spend the night with you here?" As I stare at the tiny contours in her pajama pants, I realize that I don't need Meredith's panties at all. So, I flip open my covers. "Come sleep with me on my bed, Meredith."

No one knew that I was a sex addict until the company's team building exercise. I had forgotten to bring my medicine along for that night and was assigned to a tent with a male colleague. I was in tears as I climaxed right before his eyes, and now that there was no turning back, my impulses spiralled further away from control…

I've been pent up for far so long that my hormones are going out of balance. So, I decide to visit a massage parlor that my best friend has recommended to me, hoping that I can completely get rid of the sense of emptiness that's inside me. When the young and well-built masseuse begins caressing me with his scalding palms, I feel the flames of lust burning brighter within me to the point they are about to swallow my rationality whole…

"Doctor, have you finished the examination? I can't hold on any longer," I say as I lie on the examination table in the college clinic. A screen completely blocks my view. The examination instrument pokes a few inches deeper into me. I try my best to suppress it, but a whimper escapes me. "No!" The doctor remains silent and merely adjusts the machine so that my legs are lifted higher.

"Mmm… With my husband away, his little brother comes to play with me… You two are really… ahhh…" After my brother finished and left the room, my sister-in-law lay on the bed, fast asleep and completely defenseless. I could not hold back anymore. I reached out and touched her. To my surprise, she woke up from my touch… yet instead of pushing me away, she pulled me into her arms, willingly letting me leave my marks all over her soft body. Lost in the heat of the moment, I looked up–and saw my brother’s figure standing right there.

"What's that bulge? It looks different from mine." My eighteen-year-old neighbor, sweet but simple, stared curiously at the place between my legs, a hungry glint in her eyes. I played dumb. "Why don't you show me what yours looks like?" To my surprise, without the slightest hesitation, she suddenly tugged off her little white skirt, revealing a smooth, bare patch of skin. "See? Right here—it's totally flat. There's nothing at all."