Skinny Jeans Bulge Novels & Stories

“I’m—“ My breath catch as my eyes darted between the bulge in his pants and his dark stare. “I’m not interested.” I said, turning on my heels and walking towards the door. With bated breath, I hoped he’d grab me from behind as I approached the door, my chest tightening in anticipation. ……………………………………………… One drunken night. One shattered heart. One man she never planned to want. Irene Reynolds loves the thrill of the chase but the man who tempts her most, Damian Russo refuses to play along. He’s controlled. Unyielding. Off-limits in all the ways that matter. As desire dares duty and sparks fly, the question isn’t who will chase whom… It’s who will break first. And when Damian finally lets her win, will Irene be satisfied with the chase or will she want everything else he offers her after?

Warning! 18 and above, contains explicit sexual content to invade your lustful desires. This is unfiltered, it is forbidden, it’s stories that will keep you up at night. ****************** “Ever had sex before?” he asks as he begins to take off his pants. There’s a huge bulge in his boxer already. “Ye..yes,” I stutter. He closes the distance between us and grabs my right boob in his palm. “Good, cause i’m going to fuck your little cunt till you beg me to stop.” I clench my thighs to ease the ache building up down there. “Bend over, princess.” ************************* This collection of erotica contains BDSM, REVERSE HAREM, SEXUAL TERMS YOU DIDN'T KNOW EVEN EXISTED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED This is a collection of every lustful desire you've ever had. Grab a wine and a pleasure toy, YOU WILL NEED IT!

My roommate sets me up. She deliberately forces me into a death-trap survival game. As I shut my eyes and wait for death to take me, I realize that the game's bosses can read my mind. "Look at the blood spurting from this baby doll's neck. It's like a fountain of pee." The baby doll is baffled. It's about to launch its ultimate move, but it falters. "Man, look at how this guy is still sweeping the streets when he's so old. Does he not have a pension?" The old man is about to swallow me whole, but he suddenly gets a heart attack. An ambulance takes him away. "Oh, so this is the amusement park's owner. Oh, dear god, he's handsome, albeit a little skinny. I can send him flying with a kick!" The handsome owner's expression darkens. He instantly takes off his shirt to reveal his washboard abs. "Do you still think I'm skinny?"

"What are you doing Sebestian?" "What does it feels like I am doing" Sebestian whispered back while he let his fingers boldly strike over the quickly bulge in Allen pants. "Please stop, we can't do this here, and and you don't me as your omega so stop touching me" Allen whispered back, trying to sound firm but his hips jerking up to seek friction betrayed him and Sebestian just smiled smugly at him. "Even if I don't want you baby, but it doesn't matter you have right to flirt with anyone. Remember you are mine, only mine". Or the one where Sebestian can't keep his hands off of Allen, even he don't want him or Sebestian still behave like he own Allen, even he don't want him.

“Why does he always look so dirty?” Amara says making a face. I turn and look in the direction she’s facing and my heart beats faster. Leo is walking across the school parking lot to the school entrance. Leo has his down, he is a pair of jeans that are weathered. He paired it with a long white T-shirt and hoodie. I don’t see any dirt on him but maybe Amara has extra-ray vision. Maybe she can see something we don’t. “He doesn’t look dirty” Gea says and giggles. I want to say exactly but I don’t, whenever we talk about boys it always ends up in a fight. And I don’t want to fight today, we have tests today and I need good vibes only.

My sister gets into an accident and needs an emergency blood transfusion when I'm six months pregnant. After a round of tests, my blood is the only suitable one. I'm exhausted and too skinny after being tormented by morning sickness. I have to say no. However, my family forces me to do it. I have no strength to resist; I can only beg my husband for help. To my devastation, he stands by and watches me coldly. "It's fine for you to donate some blood since you're so healthy. Queenie isn't the same as you—she has a bright future ahead, so we can't let anything affect that." I pass out after the blood donation. The first thing I do when I wake up is make an appointment for an abortion.

My African American Mom married a rich Japanese man. As I moved the skeleton of my new bed next to the window, I felt a gaze focused on me. Outside my window, was the house next door. The house shape was similar to ours, so it also had a window facing mine at the same level. Standing there on the other side was a skinny Japanese boy. As soon as I laid eyes on him, he stiffened, then shyly smiled and waved. His hair was all over the place, seeing him in his tanktop I thought to myself that he must've just rolled out of bed. But wasn't it the afternoon already? The boy says something but of course I can't hear him with my window closed so I slide it open. "Eto....hi." He tried in English. If someone were to tell me later I'd come to care about him deeply, I'd find that hard to believe. For as long as I could remember I've always felt empty. And that emptiness, I hid on instinct.

She had her whole junior year mapped out. Volleyball. Late nights with her friends. Maybe telling her brother's best friend the thing she's been not-saying for two years. Then her left leg started hurting and a Tuesday trip to the ER rewrote everything. Sloane Deshazo, sixteen, has spent her whole life being easy to love. No drama, no needs, no complications. Ewing Sarcoma, stage 2, doesn't care about any of that. And neither, it turns out, does Chandler Pavelka, who keeps showing up without being asked, in yesterday's jeans and an inside-out hoodie, like staying is the most obvious thing in the world. Sloane knows how to fight. She's learning, slower, how to let someone stay. But remission isn't guaranteed, and some days the scariest thing isn't the diagnosis. It's wanting something this much.

My best friend, Yvonne Greene, has a very masculine boyfriend named Clyde Carroll. So much so that I can see his huge bulge through his trousers. One night, when I am trying to relieve myself while fantasizing about him, Yvonne suddenly comes over with tears running down her cheeks. "Michelle, please help my fiancé out. He seems to have undergone another growth spurt down there. I can't withstand his tormenting anymore." Upon hearing that, I instantly get wet. Clyde is already huge to begin with. What kind of inhuman size has he grown into after getting even bigger? I purposely dress myself in a very low-cut top and a micro skirt with crotchless tights before showing up at Clyde's place. "I heard you're very robust. Let me take a look and see how big you are."

The Horror Game invaded the world. Real players entered the game, and their every move would be broadcast live. My adopted son shoved me—an eighty-eight-year-old woman—straight into a deadly dungeon to save his own skin. One of the comments in the live stream predicted: [What? They’re tossing in such an elderly woman? No way she’s gonna survive the first night!] On the first night, a frost-bitten ghost exhaled icy breath in my face. I shrugged off my thick floral coat, feeling sorry for her. “You poor thing! You must be freezing. Listen to me and bundle up quickly!” The second night, a starving ghost lunged at me with blood dripping down his chin. I sniffed the air, then found a jar of pickled cabbage. “Look at how skinny you are! Come on, let me get you something hot to eat.” On the final day, the last surviving players tied me up, desperate to steal the one ticket to escape. However, before they could touch me, every ghost in the dungeon came storming out, cleavers and rolling pins in hand. “Touch her, and you’re dead meat!”