Leg Shaking Uncontrollably Novels & Stories

That made it a lot harder to feel bad about making assumptions. “I have Hensley’s,” I said, forcing myself to put the words together slowly and carefully. “It’s mostly my vision. I do have occasional seizures, but no grand mal so far. Myoclonic jerks—my legs start misbehaving, basically. Or I go a little fuzzy, but I don’t pass out completely. Except for once, and that still was only a partial seizure. My doctor says I’m not at risk for any of the more serious symptoms.”

Whiskey pooled on the marble floor, soaking into the rug I had decorating the door in my room. What the— I stared at my hand to see it was shaking. And this time, not only my hand was shaking. My whole body was shaking. What the hell? I tried to stand, but my legs buckled. I caught myself on the arm of the chair, pushing myself up again. But the room tilted and I staggered toward the bed, my feet dragging as my limbs felt as heavy as stone. I didn't make completely make it. My knees gave out, making me collapse onto the edge of the mattress. My body was limp and my head was apinning.

Lyla asked I could tell that she was lost, and she didn't understand what I was saying. It sounded strange, but I knew what I felt; I was one hundred per cent certain that it wasn't me controlling my legs. "I think you took control over my legs Lyla" Lyla started laughing loudly and irritatingly, as if to say, "What nonsense are you talking about?" I would have punched her in the face if only her body weren’t connected to mine. "Took control over your legs?!..." she paused for a moment

Her hands clasped around my wrists “What’re you doing? You need to rest—“ I shook my head in disbelief, feeling a rush of dizziness and queasiness overpower me, as if I had been abruptly thrown into the depths of an unsteady ship amidst a raging storm. With cautious steps, I gingerly planted my foot onto the cold, hard floor, hoping to ground myself, but unfortunately, the overpowering wave of nausea seemed relentless in its pursuit of my weakened state. My legs, now as feeble as a newbor’s, began to waver uncontrollably, threatening to give way beneath me and send me sprawling to the ground.

My hands began to shake, and I saw a faint glow emanating from my palms. "I can't," I gasped, suddenly terrified. "Lucas, I can't control it." His eyes widened. "Try. Focus on something else, anything else." I tried. I really did. But the power had a will of its own, and it wanted out. Pain shot through my chest, so sudden and severe that I cried out. My knees buckled, and the world tilted sideways. Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground. Lucas pulled me against his chest, his voice low and urgent in my ear.

My limbs are shaking badly, and my feet are on fire from running in heels. I hear one shout to the other about doubling back; knowing he will come this way only sends me into a terror fuelled frenzy. I start frantically looking around for somewhere else to go. They are too close, and I’m too exposed. I have nothing to defend myself with and everything in me is shaking and stammering with dread and I need to get away.

That’s what you get for being so greedy. Your legs are jerking uncontrollably now—thighs quivering, knees locking, toes pointed hard like you’re being electrocuted by your own orgasm. Every muscle in your lower body is shaking, trembling, giving out completely. You can’t hold them open anymore; they collapse inward, then flop open again as another pulse hits. Don’t stop until your legs give out completely and you collapse, trembling, spent, dripping. That’s my girl. Look at what you just did to yourself.

Heat rushes to my head and I lose my rhythm. My legs shake. I stop moving all together. So close, I feel dizzy with the intensity of it. Linc notices and he stops thrusting softly in and out, he switches the tempo. He flexes both fingers in a come hither motion, directly against my g-spot inside of me and my entire body quakes in preparation, I lose all inhibition, my back almost touching the backrest of the passenger's seat.

He remained directly in front of her, close enough that she could see the faint shift of breath beneath his ribs, close enough that the air between them felt shared rather than separate. Then, without warning or explanation, he bent his knees slightly and began to shake. Not violently, not theatrically, but with an exaggerated thoroughness that moved from the ground up. His boots shifted against the stone as he loosened his legs first, a visible tremor travelling up through his thighs and into his hips, then rolling through his torso in a loose ripple that made his shoulders bounce unevenly before it climbed into his arms, which he let dangle and flick as though trying to dislodge something

My legs started shaking uncontrollably. “Oh god…” I whimpered, my full breasts bouncing slightly with every shiver. He slipped one thick finger inside me. I was so tight, but so incredibly wet that it slid in easily, stretching me in the most delicious way. He pumped it slowly, curling it just right, then added a second finger. His thumb kept rubbing my clit in firm circles. “You’re soaking my hand, baby,” he whispered hotly against my ear. “Such a good girl. So tight and wet for your uncle.”