La Guerrera Capitulo 18 Novels & Stories

"S-Stop it! You guys are far too big for me! I can't handle you at all!" In the dark slums, a few impoverished men have me lifted in mid-air. I can feel four pairs of rough, callused hands parting my slender legs, revealing my panties. "And here you are, pretending to be pure and innocent! Look at how wet you are right now! You must be yearning for our touch, right?" After that, the men rip off my damp panties before pinning me down…

During the party, my blind date brushed his hand against my thigh under the table. There were people passing by us, so I had to push down my desire. He had sun-kissed skin, and his body was hard and muscular. Later, in the car on the way home, he asked me if I wanted to…

My husband has an identical twin brother. Forget me. Their own parents can't tell them apart. Three years of marriage, and Logan has been perfect. Devoted, patient, bends over backwards for me. I could not name a single real flaw in that man. Except one. He and his brother like to swap lives, just to see if anyone notices. And the day I figured that out, I was already sitting on his brother's lap, two minutes from crossing a line I could not uncross.

When Frank Zelhar, my best friend’s father, taught me how to drive, he told me to sit in his lap while he instructed me. Since the road was bumpy, I kept jolting on his body, and I could sense a hot, hard thing behind me. As I moved, it poked against me. He touched me on the pretext of helping me hone my willpower. When he touched my most intimate parts, I could feel a wetness coming from within me, and I knew that things were about to get out of control.

"Doctor, have you finished the examination? I can't hold on any longer," I say as I lie on the examination table in the college clinic. A screen completely blocks my view. The examination instrument pokes a few inches deeper into me. I try my best to suppress it, but a whimper escapes me. "No!" The doctor remains silent and merely adjusts the machine so that my legs are lifted higher.

At midnight, I accidentally stumble upon the boss' daughter, Julianne Carter, pleasuring herself in the dimly-lit adult store. Her eyes are blindfolded, and her legs are spread on a special chair, where they are propped up on the arms. At the moment, she's cruising through the waves of pleasure uncontrollably. But when the chair malfunctions, Julianne is unable to free herself from the restraints no matter how hard she tries. That's when she starts calling for help. "Please… Please help me…" But I crouch down instead, allowing my fingers to glide across her thighs, past her calves, and back to her inner thighs. "Don't move. This chair's mechanisms are very complex. I need to study them thoroughly and slowly." "P-Please… hurry up…" I watch as Julianne's expression shifts from embarrassment to yearning. She finally stops struggling against the restraints when she breaks down from all the overwhelming sensations. "Give it to me… Please give everything to me…" Just as I'm about to yield, I hear the sounds of the boss, George Carter, opening the door coming from the outside. So, I quickly wheel Julianne into a nearby storeroom. That's where I see hyper-realistic molds that look exactly like Julianne.

"Stop it, Dad! I'm your daughter-in-law!" Ever since my husband fails to get his willy up due to an accident, I keep bawling my eyes in the middle of the night. My father-in-law, Anthony Clarke, climbs into my bed at midnight out of sympathy toward me. "Natalie, you'll only hurt yourself if you keep using those toys. Here, let me help you." After that, he lifts my legs roughly.

"Kiara Hart, did you secretly hide some fresh milk? Hand it over now!" My boyfriend's younger brother, Matthew Chambers, pinned me against the wall and ran his hands over me, searching everywhere. He had no idea that the sweet scent was not milk, but...

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.