Novel & Cerita Dream Of Gluttony

My stomach growled in anticipation, and I dug in with reckless abandon, savoring the flavors and textures of the dishes. I ate with a ferocity that surprised even myself, my hunger and exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the face of this culinary delight. Lyrien's voice interrupted my gluttony, ''Eat slowly, you might hurt your stomach.'' I nodded, mesmerized by the vibrant colors and warmth of the world around me. It was a beauty I had never beheld before, a stark contrast to the darkness I had known. Memories flooded my mind, transporting me back to that fateful night two years ago, when I was 18 and first discovered my inner demon.

Because Dante wasn’t even on top of me. Fuck! So it was just a fucking dream. But what kind of dream is this? Why the hell out of all possible dreams should I be dreaming about getting fucked by the one person I definitely shouldn’t want? Why? Because honestly, getting fucked by my ex-girlfriend's uncle would be the most forbidden thing I've ever done. And how much could I have been craving this sex to have dreamed about it so vividly, to the point of almost feeling like I was being penetrated? The thought had barely settled in my head when Dante’s voice rang out again from beside the bed;

His cum shot across her ass and lower back, hot and thick, joining the mess already coating her thighs. The mirror flared bright. "Trial complete. Riley. Your fantasy is next." Riley stumbled backward, shaking her head frantically. "No. No, I don't…" But the images came anyway, flooding her mind. Her deepest fantasy: being worshipped. Licked. Devoured. Every inch of her body claimed by a woman's mouth, hands, tongue. She'd dreamed of soft curves pressed against hers, of fingers buried inside her, of tasting another woman's arousal on her lips.

Phil dove and arrived in the plains of sleep, he found himself in the plains of desire and idea, a place where dreams correspond to the unconscious whim of the dreamer giving them a nice and relaxing dream. Phil traveled and sometimes looked into other people's dreams. Some of the dreams he had seen were mostly dreamers who either wanted to be rich or famous and that reflected their dreams where they were praised by many people and looked up to. While others just wanted to relax and have no problems in life, most of their dream is where they just float in a wide ocean without a care in the world or relax in a blanket of clouds. Everything in this part of the plain was filled with happiness o

It was all garbage, trinkets and worthless crap. There'd been a time when I'd dream of the burn as the liquid slid down my throat. More than anything, that's what my subconscious thought of as I slept. The slightly harsh burn was a Pavlovian trigger, signaling that release was on its way. Those dreams haunted me for more than a decade. That's not what I hungered for now. I just wanted what only my curse could give me. It would let me forget, and that's what I craved.

I mused, my thoughts a whirling tempest, "to crave the very thing we claim to abhor, to seek solace in the arms we condemn." "Perhaps," I conceded as I turned from the window, the cityscape now a blur behind me, "it is not about worth at all. Perhaps it is about the hunger that lies beneath—raw, unspoken, and utterly consuming." In the quiet of my apartment, with the day awakening beyond my door, I was left to wonder if Mr. Lombardi's appetites revealed more about him—or perhaps more about me—than either of us dared to admit.

LUST. He wanted to take it all for his use alone and maliciously deprive others. GLUTTONY. To gain everything, be it money or power. AVARICE. To waste his time in idleness. SLOTH. To explode in vicious anger. WRATH. To wish for others to fail and come to fatal harm. ENVY. To be the best of all. PRIDE. Maru relished in all these feelings and a dark divinity had shrouded his body.

I close my eyes, lost in a haze of longing and lust, the world outside fading into insignificance as I surrender to the pleasures of the flesh. But even as pleasure washes over me, I am consumed by a wave of self-loathing. I know this can never be more than a fantasy, a fleeting moment of weakness in the face of temptation. I am betraying my prince, my friend, and for what? A taste of something I can never truly have. When I am spent, I collapse back onto my bed, the weight of my guilt pressing down upon me like a leaden shroud. The echoes of my desire linger in the air, a bitter reminder of the forbidden fruit that lies just out of reach.

“Alright, what is this extremely vital thing you need to tell us? — Forma Roman, curious, as he puts an arm around the shoulders of his better half. I gasp for air and hold it in my lungs until the words begin to eAngelger from my mouth, recounting the pecuAmyr dream I had earlier today that I haven't had a chance to escape from my head, which is why I barely focused on any of my classes. “Did you see a merry turn?” Lara asks me when I get to that part, butting in and checking me out with a stitched brow and an anarchy brow. “Besides, individuals vanish in waves of green smoke,” I wake up, deciding to get to the point one last time and spare myself the irrelevant niceties. "Do you ever have

The contrast of his calloused palms on my sensitive skin made me cry out. “You've been dreaming about this?” he asked, pulling my shin up to meet his eyes. “Yes,” I gasped as his thumb circled my nipple. “What did you dream? Tell me.” “I dreamed... you'd suck them. Hard. That you'd bite them a little. That you'd make me cry out.” My tongue kept spilling every dirty fantasy I’d harbored. “That you'd then push me down, rip my robe off and just.. look at me. Look at all of me before you.. before you…”