I Keep Craving Craving Novels & Stories

It was like she had multiple lives and I wasn’t privy to them. Me: Anna, could you bring in some snacks and drinks for me and the twins? We are going to be doing some research in my office. Anna: Of course, are you wanting anything special? Me: No. Just bring us things every so often, or check-in to see if we need anything. Me: Oh wait. Actually, could you bring in some strawberry ice cream and barbeque chips? Anna: Okay, will do Luna. That was perhaps the weirdest craving I have had ever. Yet the salty tangy chip dipped into strawberry ice cream sounded amazing right now. The thought of my cravings had me thinking about Caleb and how he ended up liking the last craving I had with my lunch m

She's mine and I am hers. "Damn! What's happening to me? Why am I craving for foods that I don't usually eat, like lechon? When I saw Amberine eating in the living room, I immediately salivated. I really want it now, right now." "Bullshit! I look like a starving person with this craving for lechon. Did I eat something that triggered these sweet cravings that I'm experiencing now? Damn it! I even threw up earlier, that's why I went home early because I didn't feel well."

Yet, alongside this craving, there is an undeniable longing for something sweet, a sugary indulgence to balance the intensity of my desires. My eyes dart around the store, scanning the shelves filled with various products. I can feel the excitement building within me as I search for the perfect combination of flavors and textures. The choices seem endless, but none of them seem to satisfy the unique cravings that have taken hold of me. As I continue my quest, a sense of discomfort begins to intensify. The tightness in my skin feels suffocating, as if my body is rebelling against its boundaries. An incessant itch lingers beneath the surface, tempting me to scratch and claw at my own flesh. Th

All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire. —Edgar Allan poe DARIUS Some presences choke you like smoke, but hers,hers lit me on fire. And I hadn’t burned in years. “Again,” I yelled at the men sprinting across the field. Their strides had slowed, a clear contrast of the burst of energy they started with. I pushed them harder than usual, not out of discipline, but because I needed the noise to drown out the chaos in my chest.

“I love you… I need you.” I moved down to his lap, straddling him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissed him. I broke away, moving along his jaw, kissing my way to his chin. My mouth left hot, wet trails along his cool skin, and I felt his body respond, as his hands gripped me to him, and he moaned. I moved my mouth to his ear, whispering into it, as I could feel him harden. “Fuck me Rhayden. I don’t want you to make love. I can get love from Abe. I need feral, rough, crazy—make me scream.”

I have a boring and no social life. I get the pads that I use and some ice cream that I instantly want. I am running low on money and I know I have to pay the bills and rent but I really can’t resist taking it. I try ignoring it twice when I go to pay for my pads but go back for it until I just decide to take it. Screw bills and rent. I really want an ice cream right now. “Oh My. You finally took it.” The middle aged woman gives me an amused laugh. I can’t help but blush at how stupid I might have seemed like. “No need to be embarrassed dear. Cravings are normal for pregnancies." WHAT!

Clar was practicing yoga late at night when she suddenly felt an overwhelming hunger. The emptiness in her stomach was impossible to ignore, and she couldn't help but imagine various delicious dishes: "I really crave sweet and sour potatoes, braised pork, mapo tofu, and snail noodles..." This intense longing was clearly driven by her extended period without food.

It hurt to hold, but she didn’t let it go. She began to write that night—not to him, not to anyone, but to herself. Small sentences. Simple truths. My breath is mine. My body remembers more than his touch. My craving is a symptom, not a bond. She wrote until her hand cramped. And when she finally stopped, she realized she was breathing on her own again—shallow, uneven, but hers. The craving didn’t vanish, but it changed shape. It no longer felt like devotion. It felt like hunger—one she could starve if she chose to.

Again. "I– Uh... I..." Thankfully, Alexander saves me from the embarrassment and grabs the back of my head as he closes his lips over mine, giving me something else for my heart to skip over. I hum to the familiar sweet taste of him and open my mouth for him to slide his tongue in as his leg brushes against mine, asking for permission. I immediately take the hint and spread my legs, letting him sip his through. I lift my hands to his shoulders, slowly sneaking my way to the end of his curls as his tongue wrestles with me, lips softening against mine and every contact sends sparks of pleasure through me. Not enough. It's never enough. I just want more. Crave more. Need more.

My mind suddenly went blank, and all I could do was stare at the gate meters away from the mansion. I should go out and unwind. I have to clear my thoughts today. Everything has become too heavy inside. I should forget about it. That’s it! I should invite Macey for a coffee date. “Macey?” I called out. “Let’s go to Times Square. Let’s have a coffee and call out to our friends to come over. It’s on me. “ “Oh yeah!” Macey answered. “You should relax, wait up! I’ll invite Camille and others to join our call. “