Dirty Imagines Novels & Stories

Draining all hope and imagination out of me. Holy fuck! What if he doesn't love me? “I should get going.” With a serious face, I said to him and walked away. As I made my way to Ander apartment, my mind was filled with dirty imagination. Dirty fantasy that let me go wild. “Pin me to the wall. Alpha.” “Please fuck me. I want your dick.” “Go harder. Suck my nipples. Lick my p**sy.* That thought alone was driving me crazy. Making my nipples hard. The sensation, my imagination all crashed away the moment I entered the sitting room and founded Ander.

I concentrated harder, willing the features of my imaginary mate to become clearer. As I visualized him, his eyes emerged as a striking shade of blue-gray, accompanied by a charming smile that made my heart flutter. A smile crept onto my face as I pictured this idealized mate, feeling a sense of comfort in his imagined presence. With each passing moment, the details of his face sharpened, until suddenly, the guy inside my head looked remarkably familiar.

Many even sparked a level of curiosity within me that I didn't even know existed until recently. Jimmy and I had been dating about six months when he caught me one night reading a story and masturbating in front of my computer, he became quite upset. Really, I don't get the big deal since I'd caught him many a time jerking off to assorted porno videos he has watched, but all the same, he was quite upset. Now, Jimmy's a handsome guy, standing just under 6' tall, with shaggy brownish-blonde hair, brown eyes, and a fairly muscular build. Many girls found him attractive, and physically, he is. Everyone said we made a good couple; I'm petite, with strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, and plenty of

“How do we test that?” “Easy, you have a spoon, still hungry?” He points at the spoon then crosses his arms, as if waiting for something to happen. I sigh, then attempt to concentrate on my hand. For a few moments nothing happens, but then I’m starting to see an image in my mind. It’s not physically in my hand, but I’m starting to see a bowl of cereal. In my head I told myself I wanted a different kind of breakfast food. I’m starting to see bacon and eggs in my head, as I blink I realize my hand is burning, and I drop a very hot plate of sizzling bacon and fried eggs. I stand in a rush – clutching my hands together to defuse the burning sensation. Axel grabs his messy hair with both hands.

This fashion store is far bigger than Tanya's, which is ranked the biggest in San Francisco, but not anymore, this one in my imagination is far bigger and more beautiful than Tanya's. I finally brought my head down and wondered why all these people were in her imagination. I sniffed and realised my cheeks were wet. I have been crying. Damian doesn't cry in her imagination or dreams. I turned to him and saw Emily was now standing beside him, her hands still in her back. It's unlike her to have her hands behind her back. "Damian, what... what is going on? Is this a dream?" I asked. Damian shook his head "It's not a dream babe"

Renee I couldn’t even bring myself to look at the table again. Every time my gaze slipped, I caught another glimpse of the photos. They were so explicit it made my stomach turn. My skin crawled under my clothes. I’d never worn anything more revealing than a modest one-piece swimsuit with a wrap in this life or the past one, much less what those fake images suggested. It didn’t matter that they weren’t real. It didn’t matter that they were obviously manipulated. The damage was already done, and I knew so many wouldn’t care. What had Dominic's said? I was basically a rogue, having broken away from Frostborne? I gripped the edges of my chair to keep my hands from shaking.

He paused, unable to speak further. “A what?” I asked, my heart racing, my blood boiling. “We found a sex toy with Shimma’s facial picture on it. Same hair. Same everything. It’s... well, it’s a graphic manifestation of his delusions.” My heart raced, pounding in my chest like a drum. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. This wasn’t just a fixation; it was a terrifying embodiment of his madness. The thought of Shimma, my love, being reduced to a mere object twisted my gut. Like, what the fuck?!

She laid between Duskins legs with Alo in front of her and Farrell in the back. This was just what she needed but as she closed her eyes she could have sworn she saw someone staring back at her from the library corner of their room. No matter how much she tried to stay awake or alert her mates she couldn’t. Darkness soon overtook her as Esime stood in the corner using some of the darkest and deadliest magic known to demons. She had to make sure that the pup or one of the pups was a girl, if they could get a girl from Ife’s bloodline to raise and let Jacob claim their plan would still work.

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"No, I mean after the other really weird mystical gangbang you've had recently." Shamira gave the girl a frown. "Sarcasm doesn't become you." The she grinned and said, "I'm actually doing fine." "That was some weird shit. You fantasize about that stuff a lot?" Shamira shook her head. "I hadn't thought about that in a long time," she admitted. "I remember seeing this really creepy japanime flick called 'Curse of the Overfiend' or something like that once. I hated that none of the girls in those movies actually consent, but --" She paused. "This is going to sound sick, but the whole thing with tentacles . . . this unstoppable thing that just fucked you until you couldn't take it anymore just g