Addicted After All Read Online Novels & Stories

“Every hole. Every time we want.” Rico groaned as I stroked him faster. “Boss’s daughter is our dirty little fuck toy now.” I came hard, screaming around Jax’s cock as my pussy clamped down on Marcus. My whole body shook, juices running down his balls. They didn’t stop. They kept using me, switching positions, passing me around like a toy. By the time the first load of cum shot down my throat from Jax, I already knew I was addicted. This was just the beginning.

Security wasn't needed if anyone made a wrong move he wouldn't think twice about killing them on the spot. Jack waited until the crowd at the stage died down. He wanted to tip her. After all he owed her that much even if she never spoke to him again. He dug in his pockets to see what he had on him. Jack found the hundred dollar bill that he set aside. He was going to use this money to aid his habit during the work week. "Damn it!" he scuffed. It would come down to this wouldn't it. He left her side to feed the beast within but never felt satisfied. The beasts hunger grew with every passing week and it never was enough. He was faced with the same decision that tore them apart. Be addicted or

“Yeah, she is. Absolutely.” THE END. HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE STORY AND PLEASE LEAVE A FEEDBACK. NEVER FORGET LOVE CAN BE BORN OUT OF AN ADDICTION.

i hear the door barricaded and his footsteps growing near me and i close my eyes in fear, ready to be raped by this god again. i hear his shorts drop between his tanned, hair-speckled legs, he slaps his monster cock in his hand, the thick clap it emanates makes me feel it inside me already. i am ready. when you are first violated, you will want nothing more than to leave… to cry and scream… but after; you become addicted. addicted to the state of pain your aggressor inflicts upon you. addicted to the warmth of the cock ravaging your guts. addicted to the feeling of your cum-flooded insides. i will never be the man i once was; and i dont want to be ever again…

No illusions of silk sheets or morning coffee. Killian doesn't call. Doesn't text. Why would he? I'm his monthly methadone, not his girlfriend. The scent of that morning coffee haunts me sometimes, popping up like a jump scare. I squash it flat, like grinding out a cigarette under my heel. Mistake. I chew on the word until it's flavorless pulp, leaving just the bitter aftertaste. It's a slow afternoon at the coffee shop, the kind where time stretches like cheap taffy. Lunch rush fizzled out, leaving a handful of laptop zombies in the corners, clacking away at god-knows-what.

She was totally addicted, totally surrendered, totally his. The addiction had a name: Ashan. The End.

I bet you’re wondering, how did I end up in a room with a bunch of strangers, living out my fantasy? Well, after the incident with Mark, I had flown back to grad school, hoping to put everything behind me. It only took a couple of days till I was squeezing my thighs together in search of pleasure. It got so bad that I stumbled into a bar, drank for the first time, got drunk and went home with a stranger. The guilt of breaking my promise to Mark had eaten me alive, even worse, It was nothing like I hoped it would be. I searched the internet for help on how to read myself of the curse.

Came. He filled her ass. Made her walk home with his cum leaking out. The fourth session, he fucked her in his car — parked behind the library, windows fogged. She rode him. He came inside her. Held her down. Whispered, “You are mine now.” She believed him. By week eight, she was addicted. Skipped classes to meet him. Lied to Daniel. Lied to herself. He started fucking her in riskier places. His office with the door unlocked.

It was soft, reddish, and wet. I eagerly licked it and took in the aroma. This is how she smells and tastes. The taste was so good and the addiction so strong that I couldn't stop thinking about her. "Oohh, Aki, aahh," she muttered as I ate her moist front. I began to lick and suck the juice coming from that area, the place where I would have come from if we were related. Thankfully, that was not the case. I would certainly lose my mind if I could never have her or love her. I'd rather die than not be able to see her as I do now.

Not that I should, he's my boss, but it would be great if he wasn't such an inappropate jackass sometimes. I worked late and by 8PM was in bed completely naked and anticipating some steamy messages. Can someone get addicted to it? Or fall for someone over the internet? That's crazy, right?