Ambiguous

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…

"Please, stop pushing. I can't take this anymore." The concert venue is packed tight. A man behind me keeps pressing into my backside. I'm wearing a mini skirt today with a thong underneath, and it only makes the situation worse. He lifts my skirt and presses himself against my hips. As the atmosphere heats up, someone in front of me slams into me, and I stumble back a step. My body stiffens as I feel like something just slid inside me.

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 stumbled upon my neighbor Henry and his girlfriend in the middle of something awkward. My face immediately flushed bright red, now that I had just turned eighteen. With my parents away on a business trip, they had asked Henry to keep an eye on me. But in the dead of night, I discovered him involved in something... something too awkward to mention.

“Ngh... Stop touching me like that...” I found myself squeezed against a burly man during a trip. Being naturally sensitive, his touch was overwhelmingly stimulating. I could not help but tremble and pant beside him. However, I never expected that halfway through the journey, he would eagerly lift me onto his lap. “The seat’s so hard. Your butt must be sore. Let me give you a proper massage!” By the end of the trip, he had taken everything from me...

I had always confused my husband and his twin brother because they were identical twins. Once, I mistook my husband’s brother for him and made a terrible mistake, which I wish I could take back. But then my husband told me that his brother died three years ago. So who was the one I had seen last night?

After my breakup, my best friend encouraged me to join a cycling club. I quickly came to realize that this was no ordinary cycling group. To my shock, I stumbled upon my friend, caught up in a moment on her bike, doing something that went far beyond anything I'd anticipated. Surprisingly, instead of running away, a thrill of anticipation flickered within me. Because, truthfully… I'd been waiting for a moment like this for a long time.

I received an order to feed someone's dogs at home. But when I opened the door, what greeted me wasn't a hungry pet—it was the campus belle herself. She stuck out her tongue, a glint of metal from her tongue piercing catching the light, and said, "I'm starving…"

I always thought if I just held on a little longer, I could still keep this family together. But my mate Ethan and my brother William poured all their favoritism onto Ava and her mother, and left me nothing but coldness and humiliation. They could even look me in the eye and say, “She’s your sister too,” like that was enough to make me bless them. That night, I did something so insane it bordered on self-destruction: I dragged my suitcase out the door and let the house that held all my memories get swallowed by flames. The news exploded, our villa became ruins. The security footage showed “no one leaves,” and the police made a preliminary judgment that the person inside was “highly likely deceased.” Ethan didn’t believe it. Not until he and William were handed that bag of belongings at the police station, a diamond, a Blood Moonstone, the things I treasured most, did they finally understand: I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was really, truly done with them. Too bad. It was already too late.

"Ah… Mr. Carter, my legs can't spread any further…" My dance instructor, Cameron Carter, is in the middle of correcting my posture in the dance studio. He grabs me by my inner thighs while pressing on them forcefully. His actions drive my ticklishness to its peak. At the same time, I'm so acutely sensitive that I get wet instantly, soon drenching Cameron's hands with my juices.