Johnny Lawrence Young Novels & Stories

On a trip to Chicily, my wife, Rosa Stone, and her first love, Jack Cud, insisted on feeding wild, starving wolves. I simply reminded them, "You might attract more hungry wolves." They turned on me, calling me a heartless monster. In the end, I was right. A pack of wolves really did show up. They circled the car, watching us hungrily. Jack was bitten by one. To my surprise, Rosa kicked me out of the car, yelling, "Jack is hurt! He needs to be taken to the hospital! Distract the wolves, I'll come back for you!" I watched them drive away, leaving me behind, surrounded by hungry wolves closing in from all sides. My heart sank. But, Rosa forgot one thing—I was a great Wolvesmith.

My girlfriend called me frantically out of the blue, saying her mother's water had broken. She begged me to take them to the hospital. But I lazily hung up the phone and turned away, buying myself an ice cream bar instead. In my previous life, her mother had also gone into labor late in life. I had risked everything to rush her to the hospital, running twelve red lights, pushing my car to the limit until the fuel gauge nearly burst. Yet, despite all that, her mother had lost the baby. Worse still, she turned around and accused me of killing the baby. My girlfriend had hated me for it, blaming me for her mother's inability to have children again. That very night, she and her shameless relatives took over my family's house, forcing my parents into such anger and despair that they ended up in the hospital. My company went bankrupt, and as if that weren't enough, I was beaten so severely that both my legs were broken. In the end, I fell into a deep depression and took my own life. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn. This time, I uncovered the secret her mother had been hiding.

"Bianca, be a good girl and spread those legs of yours. Tonight, you belong to us." During the holidays, my husband, Ernest Bowman, has lost a card game against his three childhood friends, so he decides to pay off the debt by offering me to the men. The village men have never seen a city woman as dainty and delicate as me. That's why they get turned on right away. I struggle against them violently, but I can't stop them from spreading my legs forcibly. Thanks to the strong sensations overwhelming me, I can't help but get aroused by their actions, causing my panties to get soaked. "Settle down! Slutty women like you are meant to pleasure us!" After that, someone tears my soaked panties into shreds.

“The new doll in this shop is amazing! It feels like a real human being, and it gets wet too!” In order to catch my husband in his affair, I followed him to a massage parlor and accidentally got stuck between the railings. My back was arched and anyone could see my undergarment. In the end, someone mistook me as a new toy in the shop. He started to touch my bare thighs and bottom. I struggled and wanted to tell the person that I was a real human being, but I was afraid that my husband would discover me. While I hesitated, the person behind me touched my private parts. At that moment, I moaned from the excitement. Turning wet, I got into the man’s hand.

My Valenese neighbor dressed like a temptress—curves in all the right places, a delicate body topped with a pair of full, heavy breasts. Her name was Ayame. When she came by that evening to ask my husband to fix her computer, I heard the unmistakable sounds of pleasure drifting from the other room. "Wanna try my new tongue stud? Consider it your payment for the repair." Then came my husband's moans of pure, shameless delight. I couldn't help but feel jealous. It had been so long since he'd sounded that happy with me. As I listened, my hand slid slowly beneath the waistband of my pants. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. I'd heard that Ayame's husband had a full ring of piercings down below. I'd been craving a taste for ages. If Ayame could seduce my husband, then I'd take my own turn sampling those piercings.

"Wait… sir, I can't…" While I was performing physical therapy on a patient, the vest I was wearing accidentally tore. In front of the patient's guardian, it exposed my sweat-dampened body. The man's gaze settled on the soft curves that had sprung free, his eyes dark and unreadable. When he pressed me against the mirror and made me watch my own reflection—my body left in disarray under his relentless attention—I knew then that everything was about to spiral into an uncontrollable abyss.

"Don't lick there. Not now... My husband's calling..." I answered the phone, my face burning with shame. The husband on the other end of the line had no idea his beloved wife had another man's head between her thighs at that very moment.

After I became mentally challenged, my godmother, Fenelle Porter, took care of me personally. She not only massaged me and helped me exercise, but she also never resisted my touch. My godfather, Sam Porter, took advantage of my situation and was always intimate with Fenelle in front of me. Little did they know that I had already recovered. While Fenelle and Sam were video chatting, and she was using toys to pleasure herself during the video call, I put myself into her. Sam was completely unaware all along.

In the middle of our trip, Joanna White, the female tour guide with a bombastic figure, is actually pleasuring herself in the bus when I catch her red-handed in the act. Upon realizing that it's me, Joanna admits her mistake instantly and begs me not to tell anyone about this incident. After I agree to keep it a secret, I initially think that we won't be affiliated with each other anymore. But Joanna has been trying to seduce me since then. I initially think that this is just a casual fling. But what I don't expect is the fact that my wife, Gwen Baker, actually has the audacity to deliver Joanna into our room.

My landlady, Irene Hogan, is a divorced woman who still oozes sex appeal for someone her age. Her daughter, Meredith Lowe, is extremely blessed when it comes to her feminine assets. We live under the same roof. One stormy night, as I lie in my bed, I take out the pair of pink panties belonging to Meredith so that I can have fun jerking off to it. To my shock, Meredith opens the door to my room immediately. She just stares at me while clad in a pair of thin pajamas. For a moment, I'm shocked beyond my wits, thinking that Meredith has caught me red-handed for stealing her panties. But she tells me, "Mr. Melton, the storm is really scary tonight. My mom's not home at the moment, so can I spend the night with you here?" As I stare at the tiny contours in her pajama pants, I realize that I don't need Meredith's panties at all. So, I flip open my covers. "Come sleep with me on my bed, Meredith."