R 18 Novels

"Ah… Mr. Carter, my legs can't spread any further…" My dance instructor, Cameron Carter, is in the middle of correcting my posture in the dance studio. He grabs me by my inner thighs while pressing on them forcefully. His actions drive my ticklishness to its peak. At the same time, I'm so acutely sensitive that I get wet instantly, soon drenching Cameron's hands with my juices.

“Sir, I beg you to let me go! Don’t touch me! No!” My voice broke into sobs. The stranger forced me into an uncomfortable position. I wanted to fight back, but he was too strong. Out of shame and confusion, I did everything I could to free myself from his grasp. However, the more I fought back, the more unsettled I became. Eventually, I lost my rationality.

My boss, who made me work overtime every single day, finally got what was coming to him. Somehow, he got connected to my new keyboard. It was like he was synced to it. His face flushed red, his eyes brimming with tears. "Don't type anymore," he begged. I just smiled and nudged the mouse. "Don't move the mouse either!" 'Do you expect me to just stop because you said so? Wouldn't that make me look pathetic?' I thought to myself. I kept working until midnight. Just as I was about to leave, I glanced down. The carpet at my boss's feet was soaked through. I figured he must have knocked over his glass of water.

I’ve always been someone with a strong, restless libido I can’t quite explain. I’ve never gone to a doctor about it, but I know myself well enough to realize it’s something that comes and goes in waves, especially when I'm ovulating. During that time of the month, I'd need to do it two to three times a day or my body would feel extremely uncomfortable. Normally, my tall, broad-shouldered husband would be the one to ease that ache and fill the emptiness in me. However, lately he’s been impossibly busy, away on business trips for weeks at a time…

"Please, stop pushing. I can't take this anymore." The concert venue is packed tight. A man behind me keeps pressing into my backside. I'm wearing a mini skirt today with a thong underneath, and it only makes the situation worse. He lifts my skirt and presses himself against my hips. As the atmosphere heats up, someone in front of me slams into me, and I stumble back a step. My body stiffens as I feel like something just slid inside me.

"Peter, should I go faster?" I was on my knees on the yoga mat, leaning forward, my hips moving in sharp, rapid motions. Meanwhile, my hands just kept working my chest, squeezing and rubbing. Behind me, the rest of the class just watched, their eyes fixed on the way my body moved. "Not bad. Keep that pace. Now let's move on to some hands-on practice." As soon as the instructor said that, he pulled off his pants and positioned himself beneath me.

No one knew that I was a sex addict until the company's team building exercise. I had forgotten to bring my medicine along for that night and was assigned to a tent with a male colleague. I was in tears as I climaxed right before his eyes, and now that there was no turning back, my impulses spiralled further away from control…

"I didn't mean to…" All I had done was catch the scent of my classmate's mother's stockings, and that alone was enough for her to drag me into a room and punish me for it. What terrified me even more was this. Somehow, unbelievably, my classmate was about to start calling me Dad.

After going bankrupt, I was given away as a gift by my former nemesis, Colt Reyes. My former lover, Emerson Snyder, the one I had played with the most ruthlessly before, now traced his fingers along my face, his hands roaming every inch of my body. "You sure had a lot of lovers," he said. I provoked him defiantly, telling him he was the most despicable among all my lovers. He gave my face a light pat, his suggestive tone dripping with amusement. "That's okay. Now you only need to serve me."

"Sir, do I need to take off my pants just to go through the bone-setting therapy?" With flushed cheeks, I lie on the massaging bed. Henry Irwin, a therapist with an eight-pack, is tugging down my yoga pants as we speak. "If you want to have the best effects, you can't wear pants at all." Henry grips the hem of my pants before tugging them downward slightly. I quickly grab his hand. "I don't think that's a good idea!" The truth is, I'm already flooding down there. I'm worried that he might see how wet I am when he takes off my pants.