Intimate Obsessions Novels & Stories

I continue. "I don’t know," he responds after a long pause. "I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me lately, but every time I look at you, I want to monopolize you. The thought of you being with another man drives me crazy. You’re on my mind all the damn time, even if I don’t want you there, and when I tell myself I’ll just forget you, I can’t. What the hell would you even call this? Obsession? Infatuation? Would it be like? It’s all new to me."

She spat into her palm, kept her eyes locked on mine, and started stroking him slow and wet. Ethan let out a low moan. “Oh fuck… yeah.” She worked him like that for a while, then leaned in and took him into her mouth. No hesitation. Deep, steady, one hand still wrapped around the base. Ethan’s head fell back. The sounds he made were louder than anything I’d heard from him in years. Moans and broken groans that didn’t sound like my husband. He had never been like this with me. I stood there frozen, watching another woman suck my husband while he openly enjoyed it. The rim job across the room kept going. Someone else came somewhere behind me. The red light made everything look hotter and dirti

"Your hatred is the fuel for my obsession. The more you despise me, the more I crave to break you—until you have nothing left but my name on your lips when you finally reach your breaking point." He didn't want my soul; he wanted my absolute submission. My mind rebelled, screaming at me to push him away, to find a weapon, to run—but my body was betraying me. The proximity of him was like a narcotic, a lethal, addictive pull that made my knees feel like water. I hated how much I wanted him to stop, yet simultaneously, I craved this ruin. I craved the intensity because, in a world where I had been discarded and killed, his obsession—however toxic—was the only thing that felt real.

I stroked faster, harder, the image of her on her knees, her eyes wide with worship, superimposed over the picture of her in the towel on my laptop screen. And finally, I came hard, a guttural cry tearing from my chest as I spilled myself all over my hand and my expensive trousers. It was a violent, shuddering release, but it brought no peace. No satisfaction. Only obsession. I sat there for a long moment, the evidence of my depravity cooling on my skin, the screen still glowing with her image. I stood up, my body thrumming with a restless, predatory energy. I began to pace the length of my office. I tried to focus.

It never ends well. Obsession is lethal. It creeps in quietly, wrapping itself around you like comfort, but it suffocates in the end. It erases who you were and replaces it with hunger. If I stay, the person I am will disappear, replaced by someone who longs for a violent man, a sadistic killer. Obsession has never been a good trait, and this one terrifies me more than he ever could. More than what happened earlier tonight. Being locked in that office was horrifying, but this is worse. This feels like addiction, deep and consuming.

he whispered, his fingers tracing the curve of her ass. Anya laughed softly, her body still tingling, knowing this was only the start of her dirty obsession, a spiral of lust that would consume her entirely. She dressed slowly, leaving the motel with weak legs and a belly full of cum, returning home where Pedro was sleeping, unaware of everything. But in the car, she touched herself again, reliving every moment, cumming one last time before arriving, the taste of cigarettes and sex on her mouth. The obsession only grew, and she could hardly wait for the next encounter.

My whole body shaking as I groaned into her panties, not stopping until I’d milked every drop out of my cock. When it was over, I sagged into the chair, sweaty, breathless and staring at the mess I’d made. For the third time today. It would be the umpteenth orgasm. I had just been thinking about my obsession. I knew deep down that it wasn’t healthy, but fuck it, I was beyond caring about it. After cleaning up, I grabbed my phone and typed, Dex: r u up for 1 more session? Dex: wont take $ this time.

“I… I don’t want you to stop. Not ever.” His hands went to my waist, pulling me close. “Good,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine. “Because I’m obsessed with you. Completely. And I will show you exactly what that obsession means tonight.” Back at the penthouse, we didn’t wait. Every kiss, every touch, every whisper became a battle of possession and surrender. Sebastian’s hands memorized me, claimed me, burned into me with the intensity of his obsession. I responded in kind, trembling under his control, craving every moment, every edge of danger and desire.

You know ever since I returned to New York I've felt something was missing like I know the feeling but still couldn't put it into words. Desire, need, obsession, yearning, or just someone's touch, I always find myself craving for lust. I'm not a romantic person trust me and this craving is not romance; it's intimacy that is taking a toll on me. Idk if it's me being sore for a year now or just a random sexual desire but pushing Leonard on the ground and sitting on top of him is doing stuff to me. I've been controlling myself for so long but our positioning is pointing to facts that my so-called body is hypnotized by him.

The idea of being consumed by someone else, of losing himself in the depths of his emotions, unsettled him. In an attempt to quell his obsession, he contemplated the notion of repeated intimacy. He believed that by satisfying his desires repeatedly, the intensity of his longing for Ava would eventually fade away. It was a strategy he had employed in the past, believing that physical pleasure could provide temporary relief from emotional entanglements. Yet, even as he entertained this idea, a voice deep within him resisted. He couldn't dismiss the connection they shared as mere physical attraction. It went beyond the realm of physical pleasure. Ava had awakened something within him that he co