Obsession Clothes Novels & Stories

"We can't, Nick. You don't know the kind of man my father is. My internship will be cancelled. I'll never get to step outside. You'll never see me again." Nick turns quiet, and I know he's reconsidering. "Then I guess we won't tell him." He says finally. "I'm not letting you go so easily." His words warm my heart, making me smile. "So this is between us." I say. "Besides, I want to know what he wants. Like, why has he made me his target? Who is he? What does he want from me?" "Things like this stem from obsession." Nick answers in a strange voice. "I think he's obsessed with you for certain reasons. We just need to find out why."

"I need to buy the latest 'VJ' bag that just came out. You know it's my favourite brand. And there's a dress that really caught my fancy at that clothes store we visited last month. It's still available. It's designed by the legendary Peony herself. I want to be the one wearing it!" Roberto felt a headache coming on, resisting the urge to facepalm, "Most of the clothes you bought last month, you haven't finished wearing them. And I bought you a bag last month as well. You know how the company is at the moment. I can't casually throw away that kind of money on trivial things," "Roberto, did you just say trivial? I had boasted, no, I had sworn to my friends that I would be wearing a Peony crea

The room was stunning, decorated in rich colors and textures. A large bed dominated the space, with luxurious linens and an array of pillows that seemed to invite relaxation. A massive walk-in closet stood to one side, its doors slightly ajar. I hadn’t paid attention or noticed this other wardrobe before, when I’d looked into the empty closet earlier. Curiosity stirred within me as I walked over, peering inside. What awaited me was nothing short of overwhelming. The closet was filled with a vast array of clothing—everything from casual wear to elegant dresses and, yes, seductive pieces that made my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

The girl explains. “I'm a little anxious, I don't have the patience for so many clothes...” So I'm going to wear a swimsuit, tights, boots, and everything, I want to have sex and not wear so many clothes, of course, some women have patience and can handle it. to look sexy, but the thought of taking off all your clothes makes you lazy.

“That means rich, powerful people in designer everything. You can’t just show up looking like you threw on something from the back of your closet.” I rolled my eyes but stayed silent. She wasn’t wrong, and deep down, I knew she was doing this to make me feel less anxious. Jessica had dragged me to one of the fanciest boutiques in the city. The kind of place where they handed you champagne as soon as you walked in and sales associates hovered, ready to cater to your every whim. “Jess, this is too much,” I whispered, feeling out of place. “Trust me, it’s not,” she said, already flipping through racks of gowns. “We’re doing this right.”

“That’s insane. Have it sent back. I won't be wearing it.” Regina smiled. “I know you are thinking, ‘Why would anyone spend millions on something they’ll only wear once? It would interest you to know that wearing an outfit once did not just apply to your wedding dress, we actually don’t repeat clothes for special occassions, so we rock every piece of clothing to the last drop because it’s the last time we would wear them” Tessa narrowed her eyes. “Stop trying to read my mind. You will loose your way, and why cant I repeat my clothes? What if I like to repeat my clothes”

The kind of dress that would make her look like she belonged at Rodrigo's table. Elena's hands trembled as she pulled it from the bag. She should refuse. Should put on her jeans and t-shirt and walk downstairs exactly as she was, just to spite him. But God, it was beautiful. And she hadn't worn anything beautiful since she got kidnapped. Before she could talk herself out of it, Elena stripped off her clothes took her bath and stepped into the dress. It slid over her skin like water, cool and perfect. She zipped it up and turned to the mirror.

I am aching for her. I spend my day trying not to think about her sexy body and her huge tits. I have always been obsessed with tits. She let me suckle her as long as I wanted. I want to just hold her tit in my mouth while I fuck her pussy. I have to stop thinking about her while I am at work. I cannot have a hard cock while I am standing by the pool, passing out towels. I have never been this happy to see the next shift coming to relieve me. I want to go back to her. I want to dive into her and stay there forever. I need to touch her. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Damn, I didn't ask to play! I am stashed behind the kitchen curtains, and I watch the show, and I like what I see. A beautiful woman that beauty has not left by the side of the road. She is wearing a yellow dress. Excess of coquetry? Need to be seen and admired over and over again? It seems like it is working just fine. I see her. She reminds me of femininity, and chills run through down my spine without being able to refrain them. They go too fast for me, just like my thoughts. I find it hard to focus on anything other than this woman. I do not know her. She doesn't see me from the top of the third floor, and yet I spy on her like a teenager would observe a classmate from the corner of his

"Angel, can you hurry up. You know how much I hate this shopping shit." Dalton said as I tried on my eight outfits in the store. Ever since we became rich. I tend to live up to that fact. I've become this shell of a woman with a bad attitude. "Well if you would trust me to go on my own. Maybe you wouldn't have to go through this shit, darling." I hissed out. He got up and handed the credit card over to the woman.