18 Plus Manwha Novels & Stories

"Ah... go easy, my husband is calling." My cheeks flushed bright red as I grabbed the phone and accepted the video call. On the other end, my husband, Trevor Chambers, stared intently and began rattling off a list of instructions. He was completely unaware that just out of view, a young man's head was busy nuzzling between my thighs.

"Stop… please stop… There are too many of you. You'll break me." On the bus back to the village, three rugged men from my hometown spread my legs apart and tore a hole right through the middle of my stockings. Steve Axwell, who lived opposite, said lecherously. "Kendall, I've watched you grow up. Let me check if you've started growing hair down there yet." Under the gaze of those big, strong men, I felt a mix of ache and itch. I couldn't stop myself from getting wet. "You're this soaked, and you've never been with a man? Don't worry—today, we're going to satisfy you real good."

"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.

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.

“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.

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…

Initially, I think a little puppy wants to climb the social ladder with his good looks, but I later realize that his skills are… I blush in embarrassment when he asks me how I feel. Despite that, he doesn't let me off the hook. Instead, he keeps pushing me for an answer. "Do you like it, angel? You smell so good. You're so sweet and soft…"

“I’m right here, so why are you using a toy? Come, let me satisfy you.” Keenly aware of the blue-collar men around me on the sleeper train, lust bubbled up in me. I was sweating so badly that my lingerie was drenched. I had no choice but to satisfy myself, but someone caught me in the act. An older man pulled my blanket aside and stared lustfully at me.

“No… I can’t… Uh… My body belongs to my husband…” At the gym, I hired a personal trainer to work on my glutes. To make sure I was training my hips right, I wore a pink mini skirt with a hint of my plain white underwear peeking out from underneath. As if I wasn’t sensitive enough, the personal trainer lifted my skirt and pressed against my thighs. I felt a tingling sensation coursing through my body. The personal trainer tugged down my damp underwear. “Are you getting an itch you can’t scratch? Let me help you there.”

"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.