Male POV Ambiguous Short Stories & Novels

The boss's wife, Irene Peters, was insanely hot. She would often just stretch out her soft, stockinged feet and sway them in front of me. I couldn't help myself and snapped a quick photo. Then I ducked into the restroom, staring at it while pleasuring myself. I was halfway through when the door suddenly swung open. Irene stood there, staring at me with her eyes wide. "Wow, how are you that big? And what were you doing, taking pictures of me?" I jumped, scrambling to pull my pants back up. But instead of getting mad, she looked almost amused. "You're done for. I'm telling Fabian." A minute later, my boss, Fabian Peters, showed up. I braced myself, expecting to get chewed out or fired on the spot. Instead, he stuffed a wad of cash into my hand. "My wife hasn't been able to get pregnant," he said. "You're well-built. Help me out."

"W-Well, that part is very dry. When I'm doing it with someone else, it's very dry, chapped, and it hurts a lot too. I can never get it to lube up even after a long time…" I gaze at Audrey Lawson, whose beautiful face has gone red from embarrassment. Then, I glance at her smoking hot body. After gulping quietly, I tell her with a smile, "Ms. Lawson, your problem seems a little complicated. I dare not give a verdict right away… "Why don't you go behind the curtains right now? I'll use a device to check what the problem exactly is. "Ah, and by the way, remember to take off your pants."

"Doctor, hurry up and examine me." Inside the consultation room, a stunning woman was laying face down on the bed. She raised her hips toward me and asked me to examine her condition, but I wasn't a doctor. Just as I was about to refuse, she pulled down her pants to reveal her fair, smooth back. Who could possibly resist that?

"Dude, let me see whose is bigger. Yours or my boyfriend's." On a truck along the Sicherian-Timbre Highway, a couple hitched a ride from me. The lady, Jean Shelley, was dressed provocatively. I couldn't help getting aroused, pitching a tent. Unexpectedly, Jean was very open-minded. She actually wanted to use her hand to measure how big I was. What made my blood race even more was that her boyfriend, Ray Brook, wanted her to use her body to pay for the ride.

On a packed bus heading toward a college, bodies were pressed together so tightly it was hard to move. I deliberately leaned against a delicate, sweet-looking freshman. She was wearing a short plaid skirt. I hitched the fabric up and pressed myself against her curvy hip. What caught me off guard was her underwear. There was a small hole worn into the fabric, as if she were already overcome. Just as I was about to lose control, I pulled back at the last second. However, she held me there tightly and said, “Mister, don’t stop. Keep going.”

"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.

"Mr. Warden, what's that fun-looking toy you've hidden away in your pants? Pull it out and let us take a look!" When I'm in the middle of making my rounds around the factory's female dormitory, a few young women try to reach for my crotch. Anger floods my senses immediately. At the same time, my body goes rigid from shock. Not only are the women not afraid of me, but they are also eager to witness the physical change of my body. In fact, they want me to pull my manhood out of the zipper just to show them my actual size. In that case, don't blame me for being so straightforward.

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.

"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."

I had been diagnosed with a structural abnormality. The doctor had told me my condition was extremely rare, the kind that had no cure. It was not exactly dangerous. I was just… different from other men in that regard. More intense. Far beyond normal. It had been a constant problem. Every time I brought a woman home, things fell apart the moment clothes started coming off. One look at me, and they panicked and ran like they had seen something they could not handle. My good buddy Gavin Cobb knew how long I had been going without, and he finally decided to help. He told me about a cycling club and suggested I check it out. At first, I did not take it seriously. Riding bikes? What was supposed to be exciting about that? Then he said, "You're underestimating it. The club was full of women. You'd ride up into the mountains at night, and once it was dark, no one could see anything. That was your opportunity. Make them feel good, and they wouldn't push you away. After that, your life would be easy." The idea got to me immediately. I did not think twice. I agreed on the spot.

"Max, I'm so itchy down there. Could you use your stick to scratch it for me?" Beneath the desk, my boss's daughter was perched on my lap, her round little bottom in the air. I was in the middle of a project meeting with my team, a whole group of them standing in front of my desk. She was driving me crazy. My hardness was itching and swelling by the second. I was about to lose it.

"Hey Jerry, that's my daughter! Where do you think you're touching?" My colleague, Jerry Steele, has had too much to drink in the bar. He's mistaken my daughter, Maya Glover, for an escort of the bar. His hand keeps roaming across her thighs. At one point, he almost reaches up her skirt to touch her. What's crazy is that Maya seems to enjoy the way Jerry touches her, based on how horny she seems. Then, I look at Jerry's daughter, Lucinda Steele. Her chest is so big that her top is about to burst from the pressure. In that case, don't blame me for what I'm about to do to your daughter, Jerry!

"Don't keep prodding me with your rod, Chase. It's itchy…" In a northeastern village, I am in bed with my wife and the rest of her family. My wife, Dakota Allen, and her younger sister, Yvette Allen, sleep on each of my sides. Yvette sleeps with her back to me, and her backside presses against the front of my body. Her body has just developed into maturity, so her round buttocks are firm and supple. They set ablaze the primal heat that stirs within me. Unbelievably, she seems to have started enjoying my prodding. Dakota is sleeping just behind me. I cannot hold it in much longer…

My mother and sister never liked me. The only son they ever truly cared about was my older brother, Lucian Vieri. Before she married me, Serafina Valcieri, the only daughter of one of the most feared syndicates in the country, was always the one who stepped in when I was cornered, mocked, or blamed for things that were never mine to carry. She never said much. She just made people back off. Then she married me. Then, not long ago, Lucian shoved me off a ski slope. I said he meant to kill me. My mother called it an accident. My sister said he had only been trying to save me. Only Serafina believed me. When I woke up in the hospital, I heard voices outside the door. “Who told you to do it like that?” Serafina said, her voice low and cold. My mother answered in a panic. “Lucian’s leukemia can’t wait. If Cassian learns the baby isn’t his, everything falls apart.” Then Serafina said the words I still can’t forget. “I chose him, and I married him for my own reasons. But Lucian still needs this child. If anything had happened to Cassian, none of you would have walked away from it.” I stood there in silence, listening to every word. The child my wife was carrying was never mine. It had been conceived through IVF to save my brother. And the marriage I had trusted from the beginning had never belonged to me alone. I had spent my whole life coming second to Lucian. I just never thought Serafina would be the one to prove it. If no one truly wanted me, then I would leave.

In the middle of our trip, Joanna White, the female tour guide with a bombastic figure, is actually pleasuring herself in the bus when I catch her red-handed in the act. Upon realizing that it's me, Joanna admits her mistake instantly and begs me not to tell anyone about this incident. After I agree to keep it a secret, I initially think that we won't be affiliated with each other anymore. But Joanna has been trying to seduce me since then. I initially think that this is just a casual fling. But what I don't expect is the fact that my wife, Gwen Baker, actually has the audacity to deliver Joanna into our room.

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."

When my wife, Anna Smith, and I went back to her hometown for the New Year’s, her male best friend, Liam Reid, barged into our bedroom. Late at night, he suddenly unbuttoned his top and exposed his bare chest. “Anna, my imaginary bosom hurts. Please massage them to make me feel better!” Anna wanted to massage his chest when I flipped the tumbler over next to our bed in frustration. Anna’s face immediately fell. She glared at me in hatred as she roared, “He’s experiencing a psychological issue due to hormonal imbalance. Do you even know science? Why is your mind in the gutter?” Liam pretended to cry as he sobbed, “Sawyer, don’t blame Anna. We’re best friends, and we’re basically sisters. “It’s my fault. If I had been born with a real bosom, I’d definitely stay away from Anna.” I looked at his fake demeanor and smirked. I did not tell them that I had obtained a wish stone, and that it allowed me to change one bodily structure. Since Liam desperately wanted to be a woman, I would make his wish come true by giving him a huge bosom. He could massage them however he wanted.