His Curvy Obsession Novels & Stories

Right away, Curtis gave a rare smile of his own back, returned King’s nod, turned his attention to a table in the corner that was getting a bit loud. “So, it looks like the last one of you determined single-guy types has taken himself off the market,” Tessa said to King. “First Jax and Sarah, then you and Naomi, then Dillon and Maria.” She turned to Aidan. “Then you and Gabi, then Mac and Mirrie, now Curtis and me. It’s too big of a loss to the hot man pool around this place. The women of Curves are weeping rivers, I tell you. The woman’s bathroom floor is awash with tears, to the point that you need rain boots to wade through it.”

“Focus. Don’t let impatience ruin your observation.” “I’m fine,” I snapped, though my voice was quieter than I intended. “I just need this done correctly.” He smirked, clearly enjoying the friction. “Of course. But be careful. Tension can lead to mistakes. Not that I expect one from you.” I ignored the comment and continued. My files were positioned carefully, some partially open, some slightly misaligned. I had memorized the exact order of each stack, knowing exactly how they should look if untouched. The staff member lingered, circling near my desk, pretending to check other documents. My stomach tightened as they inched closer, fingers brushing against a deliberately misplaced folder.

“Now start talking. Every detail. Start with the beach house and end with the part where he rearranged your organs.” My cheeks burned. “Dawn!” “What? I support women. Now spill.” I sighed, twisting a loose curl. “It was… intense. And sweet. And confusing. And I felt…” “Safe?” she finished softly. I swallowed. “Yeah.” There was a pause before she spoke again. “So, Noah Frost. Billionaire. Gorgeous. Gives you earth-shattering orgasms. The dream guy of half the city. But what about the complication?” I frowned. “What complication?”

Meanwhile, Kyle’s moans grew louder, more desperate, as I held him there on the brink. As Kyle's hand kept working our cocks with that slow, torturous rhythm, I felt a surge of wicked curiosity hit me—we were both so flexible from all the contortions we'd put ourselves through, and in the cramped space of the car, it hit me like a bolt: why not take it further? “Look at us, both so goddamn flexible,” I rasped, my eyes locking onto his, a devilish grin spreading as I saw the same idea spark in his gaze, his breath hitching with excitement.

His cum filling me up while he calls me his filthy toy. The fantasy made me edge harder. I was so close when my boss called me into his office. “Lila, quick review,” he said, closing the door. I sat across from him, legs crossed tightly, the toy still buzzing. Dan texted: Don’t you dare turn it off. Edge for me. Mr. Reynolds leaned forward. “You’ve been performing exceptionally well. But you seem… distracted. Everything alright with your fiancé?” The word “fiancé” combined with the toy and thoughts of Dan pushed me dangerously close. I shifted in my seat, trying to stay composed while my pussy clenched and fluttered.

And then he pulled away. “I wouldn’t act like this if he wasn’t your ex-boyfriend,” he said firmly. I shook my head and lightly smacked his forehead. “You’re becoming a sadist, Ms. Montessori. Should I add another rule?” I raised a brow, crossing my arms. “What exactly do you do for a living?” He looked at me, confused by the sudden question. “Chief Executive Officer of Lee Empire. Problem?” I smirked and pinched his ear. “I thought you became a writer,” I said dryly. “You seem to know more about drama than I do.”

To anything that would help me drown out his voice echoing in my head. “You’re pathetic.” That one stuck. It played on loop like a curse. Because I knew he was right. Maybe this obsession I had with him—this reckless, spiraling need to have him—wasn’t desire. Maybe it was a sickness. One that consumed every part of me until I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I tried to remember what happened after the club. There were pieces, scattered like broken glass. Laughter. Loud music. A drink too many. A face—his face?

And the yoga studio, once a place of calm, had become the crucible in which desire, slow and deliberate, had claimed me entirely. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I traced her presence in my mind, memorized the subtle curve of her fingers, the brush of her hair, the warmth of her breath… and now the thick thrust of her strap-on, the buzz of her vibrator, the delicious fullness of that plug. The obsession had taken root, deep and unshakable, and I knew, with a certainty that thrilled and terrified me, that nothing—not distance, not reason, not propriety—could undo it.

Inside, they stripped completely, their bodies a feast—auburn’s lean muscles, curvy’s full hips—and pushed me onto a fur rug by the fireplace. The auburn one straddled my hips, grinding her wet pussy against mine, our clits rubbing in a delicious friction. “Fuck, you feel good,” she moaned, leaning down to suck my tits, biting my nipples until I cried out. The curvy one knelt behind, spreading my ass, her tongue diving into my hole, rimming me with slow, deliberate strokes.

He was sure not going to miss out on this. Curtis did not know why he did what he did to Mirabel but he found out that he could not stay away from her. He kept wanting her, not just as a friend but a lover. His body reacted violently whenever he thought if her. He had alot of girls in the neighbourhood who even beg him to take them and he had been doing just that thinking that it would help him forget Mirabel but no. They were not doing the job he thought being with them would do. Nothing else seem to be able to cure him if his obsession with Mirabel except to make love to the object if his obsession.