Obsession With Someone Novels & Stories

Bearable. And I was 32. Not getting any younger. My parents wanted me married. Settled. Responsible. Whatever that means. And frankly, she was the only woman who didn't exhaust me within five minutes. I was used to her presence. Three and a half years of working side by side did that. Having her around 24/7 would only make my work easier. Yes, it was selfish. I know it. But I'm not a saint. Never claimed to be one.

Fantasizing about fucking every inch of her, stretching her tight little holes, making her take my cock while she moaned my name like a prayer. Oh yeah. This was fucking dangerous. My jaw tightened. Fucking hell. She was an addiction, a drug-like obsession. And I have never been the type to get addicted to anything. Never been the type to care about anything. I didn’t care about her… not really. But I wanted her. And every time I saw her, that craving only fucking grew. There are two things you do with an unhealthy obsession: You either kill it or stay the hell away until it fades.

I made sure she didn’t see me, but I was desperate for just one peek at her. * * * Then I got angry at how distracted she made me, but I couldn't stop myself. I’ve become obsessed like nothing else before, and I have to have her. I have to be near her. My actions may make me seem crazy, but at this point I’m already all in. What’s a little crazy on top of it?

9Maya. I’d never been like this before. Not with anyone. Not with myself. Obsession felt like a sickness, something I couldn’t shake, something that turned my days into endless waiting, my nights into hours spent staring at the ceiling, aching and empty and full of wild, helpless want.

Jennifer, who was only a year younger than Vicky, had experienced no less than Vicky over the years. Seeing Vicky's interest in the topic, Jennifer spoke up, "Anthony's mother told me that most obsessions aren't from true emotions, but rather a person's deeply ingrained principles. Some people have a strong obsession with certain things, which may be due to experiencing something profound that contradicts their beliefs."

Do my hands and lips remind her of another? I pushed myself up on an elbow. Releasing her hand, I palmed the back of her neck and pulled her up until her face was just an inch from mine. She held on to my hand as her eyelids fluttered open, and our gaze locked. I have never felt anything so magical in my entire years of existence. I have had my share of women, too many gold diggers that I would have sworn she was one of them, but there's something about her ocean-blue eyes that drew me into their depths. I was always aware of it, but I was too stubborn to admit that I harbour such feelings for a woman who was the opposite of my type.

Or focus my gaze on your bright eyes and forget about the world. My idea to try to forget all this and leave it in the past was to sink even deeper into work. This will cause me a future problem, I'm feeling it, but I can't escape it. It has become a vicious cycle. I think about her, I work more. I see her, I work more. Furthermore, I smell you, I work harder. There is no human being in the world who can handle huge doses of stress in a row and doesn't freak out.

"Grandma, I don't mind you making friends, but this guy is trouble. Stop treating him like a friend. "He's deliberately getting close to you. With a few lies, how can you accurately judge his true intentions?" Joey's voice carried a sense of frustration. It seemed Caleb had been here for a while, snooping and digging into everything about her.

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."

“Why do you think your stalker is doing this? What's in it for harassing you?” I had asked myself that question a million times. "Destroy my life," I replied. “Who would be interested in destroying your life?” “Fernando.” Paola gave Fernando one more point. “Who came into your life before the bullying started?” “Ezra.” “Do you know someone who is obsessed with your physique?” I forced my mind to think and achieved nothing. "No one that I know of," I commented. “Are you sure it's a man?” “I don't know, I can't be sure of anything but I don't think it's a woman. I have no enemy.”