Novel & Cerita Dirty Imagines

I explain. “Calm down, come with me,” Dennis says as he notices one of the maids coming. He walks into my room, and I follow behind, shutting the door behind me. “You were saying,” Dennis continues. “I don't know if I am going crazy or letting things get to me, but I see images. Real images of Caspian,” I say. “What?” Dennis asks. “They seem so real, and they feel real,” I say, lifting the hands of my shirt to reveal scratch marks from claws.

"Don't look down, Kaima! Look at me!" But I couldn't help it. Below us, the "Trash Bin" of the server was a swirling vortex of discarded ideas. I saw half-finished cities, broken faces of people who had never been named, and scraps of dialogue that floated like dead leaves in a pond. And standing on a platform of pure black shadow, looking up at us with those dead, gray eyes, was the Other Kaima.

I ask, my tone soft. “There’s a voice in my head, pà.” He cries, his voice shaking with sorrow and fear. “It sings deadly songs to me, always pushing me into a state of numbness. And then I start to imagine things, dirty things.” I nod my head in understanding, because I truly understand the feeling—I understand his situation perfectly. I myself struggled with such imaginations for years. “Dirty imaginations like watching life leave a person’s eyes and being responsible for it?” I question. “And you’ve become so obsessed with the idea of being capable of causing so much damage to a person? You obsess over the look on a person’s face when you hunt them down and take life from them?”

Hence, before the meeting, Darryl secretly took the chance to produce an Imaginative Image Pill. The Imaginative Image Pill was an elixir that could transform an ugly person into a pretty or handsome person. When Lily got poisoned by the Sect Master of Incandescent Sect, Matteo, she became so ugly that she wanted to end her life. To cure her face, Darryl had roamed through the entire Nine Mainland.

So what if they’d gone through a few things last night… and now she knew a few things… But as soon as she sat down and saw him bathed in morning light, so cool and restrained, her mind betrayed her—immediately flashing to him in that half-open black robe, his body full of heat and desire… Worst of all, her imagination added in the part where he was alone in the bathroom, groaning— Oh, God. Candice squeezed her eyes shut like she was going crazy. She swore it wasn’t on purpose. She was an adult woman, okay? Those images just forced themselves into her head. She didn’t want to think this way. Please forgive her!

The whites yellowed and streaked with crimson where the veins had ruptured. He opened his eyes swiftly, his skin draining of colour. The woman was watching, barely noticing the vile images that had started appearing. The contorted faces of children, their tears reflecting their knowledge of their impending death. One after the other...a litany of sin that Nathaniel carried and repented of each day. But as the smoke blurred the vision, she leaned forward, peering deep into the fire. A smile tugged at her thin lips before she sat back and slapped her hand on the ground beside her.

Maja was his big brother Nick fuck doll, because of her skin color and her race she was bullied. His brother saves her from her depressive stage, in exchange, she became his all time fuck doll. She has history and tendencies and behind her "I can't break a glass type of personality" is a submissive. He was able to record her exhibitions so many times. Most of it are erotically thrilling, yes she give that thrilling feeling when she starts to do her thing.

But she was all I had… the only person who looked at me like I wasn't invisible, like I mattered. I set the phone against the soap dish and stepped back into the low light of the bathroom lamp. Shirt already off. I tilted my jaw the way I'd seen models do it and felt ridiculous… I wasn't sexy, I was a broke kid with a healing split lip and ribs that ached when I breathed too deeply. But she had asked. I took three photos, deleted the first two, and kept the third. My collarbone caught the light and my eyes looked darker than usual. Not sexy, exactly, but something.

We go upstairs, walk through hallways, open doors we definitely shouldn’t be opening, laughing a little at first like it’s a game, like there’s nothing serious behind any of this. We reach a door at the end of the hallway, closed, and Sofi stops beside me, hesitating just enough for me to notice, but I can’t stop, not now, so I reach for the handle and open it without thinking. And there he is. Mateo, against the bed, with a girl, his hand slipped between her legs, his mouth on hers, both of them completely absorbed, like nothing else exists, like the world isn’t about to crash down around them.

Damion slides on a pair of Dior sunglasses, instantly transforming into the human embodiment of cool, calm, and criminally unfair. Me? I’m a disaster. A walking, breathing, internally screaming hot mess. He’s still bare-chested. Focused on the road. Jaw set. Shoulders broad. Skin still flushed from the chaos we left behind. His profile is … obscene. My fingers itch to trace the sharp line of his jaw. He hasn’t shaved, and the thought of dragging my tongue across that stubble hits me out of nowhere. I imagine how rough it would feel against my lips. Hell. I’m a virginal slut. Pull it together.