Fanfic Prompts Novelas e Histórias

I stared at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above me, my heart still hammering between my legs. Four days until I see Marcus. I sighed, stretching lazily to pick up my phone. I clicked on stop and then scrolled to daddy in my contacts and hit send. “I can't wait to have that big dick of yours inside of me daddy…see you soon.” Then I flopped back, still leaking. A nagging urge pulled me to check my chats, but tiredness took over. Sleep crept in while Marcus filled my thoughts. A part of me wished the chats had won.

This unexpected encounter had awakened a side of him that he never knew existed, fueling his darkest fantasies and leaving him yearning for more. Aiden observed the scene before him, captivated by the sight of the beautiful woman getting fucked by the two brothers. His imagination sparked, and he found himself drawn into the fantasy, yearning to be the one pleasuring her. He envisioned himself intimately entwined with her, his desire intensifying as he imagined his own hands caressing her delicate features, exploring her tender lips, and savoring her. He wished it was his cock that fucking her little mouth, tight pussy and asshole.

Lucas was noting five fantasies on separate sheets of paper. -Suck a dick in 5 minutes. -Perform the lap dance without getting a boner. -Reached for your breasts and sucked one of their tips. -Begin to finger yourself without complaining. -Become a cowgirl. He desired to add more, but five fantasies are already sufficient, and he doubts that Ryleigh could complete them all. Therefore, he must still provide punishment if she fails. He rolled the paper and placed it in a little box before going downstairs for coffee.

I check the inbox again and there it is already opened. Subject: Hot—For Your Eyes Only. I don’t need to guess. Gabby warned me that something was coming. I glance around the office to make sure I’m alone before clicking it. Images load onto the screen. All of Damian and Sophia. Kissing. Touching. All over each other. Gabby told me it was staged, and she told me Damian was drugged but I can’t stop the aching thought that hits me like a punch to the chest: That should be me in his arms.

A Climactic Encounter. Exploring the depths of pleasure and connection in a moment of intense passion. . A smirk formed on Frank’s lips as he turned towards me, catching me staring. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, but I couldn't deny the desire that burnt within me. I desired to touch him, to feel his wonderful cock beneath my fingertips. I knew I had to act on it before the moment slipped away. Embracing my boldness, I closed the distance between us, ready to fulfil the fantasy that had taken root in my mind.

with articles and photos of themselves. In one area was a Fantasy posting board. It had pages of computer paper stuck up there in several categories. Each page had a brief— or sometimes really detailed fantasy— and then a person’s name at the bottom. Most of them had either a photo or a phone number as well. It was obvious that if you read a fantasy that really turned you on, these folks were inviting you to drop them a line— perhaps to enact that same fantasy. There were several that only increased the hardness of my cock that was straining against my shorts. And Carrie wasn’t helping matters at all with her bust pressed against my back. She was looking over my shoulder at the same wall and

I melted into the kiss, tasting the wine and the passion and the promise of many more nights exactly like this one. Best drunk sex of my life.

I reply, looking down at my phone, unable to stand the scrutiny of my best friend's gaze. "Babe, you're better than Chesters." Sabrina replies, grabbing my hand and pulling me into a sitting position, "You don't want those sleazeballs all over you." "Well, my OnlyFans account hasn't taken off yet, and you and I both know that if you want to make cash quickly, Chesters is the way to go. Besides, I'm a dancer, Brin. I know how to put on a show and keep my distance from people. "

Something has changed. I don’t know how or really even when exactly, but writing and reading my fanfic isn’t doing it for me anymore. It used to be everything, all I needed, what I lived for, and obsessed over in my limited free time but now it’s not enough. I read the words, and expect to get hot and bothered and ready to touch myself as usual, and the need just isn’t there. It’s not that it doesn’t turn me on, it’s just not as exciting. What I’m now obsessed with is having Bryce and Wyatt in real life.

My fingers found my clit—already slick, already begging—and the first slow circle made my back arch so hard water sloshed over the edge. “Oh God,” I whispered, even though I knew it was the wrong name to say. I stroked faster. Two fingers sliding over and around my clit while my other hand came up to pinch my nipple the way I imagined he might. The water made everything slippery, louder. I slipped one finger inside myself, then two, curling them the way I’d done every morning for weeks. My hips rocked up to meet my hand. The fantasy took over completely—Father Chris’s voice in my ear, his breath hot against my neck, his fingers replacing mine, thicker, surer, pressing that spot that made sta