Novel & Cerita Fanfiction Stories

THEMES: Dark and Intense, Incubus- X- Human, Demon- X- Human, Filthy tone, Accidental demon summoning, Memory reading, Blackmail pre plot, Risky fuck, Public setting, Fucking in a Library, Aftercare, Revenge, Spell Gone Wrong, Spell circle, Trapped in a Spell circle rune. KINKS: Hand jobs for horns, Double cocks, Hand job for double cocks, Blow job, Vibrating Balls, Praise Kink, 4 in one Dom (Gentle, Firm, Strict and Service Dom), 2 in one Sub (Willing and Bratty Sub), Dirty Talk, Oral sex, Teasing and Edging, Rough sex, Firm Dominance, Multiple Orgasms, Hair pulling, Orgasm control, Choking, Biting and Marking, Clawing, Double Penetration, Service with Tail, Tail play. KIRA'S POV

“Honey you and I know you’ve had it bad for the past year. And trust me, your emotions flying around is pent up frustration due to lack of sex! You really need to get your back blown out like he said.” “God.. Lisa!” “And dear Nathan! Bless him. He is such an understanding and good man. He loves you and cares about your well-being. I have never seen any man that considerate. He wants you to do it Rene.. He wants you to get over this” “Lisa…” “And please Rene don’t pretend you weren't just fingering yourself last night with p**n sounds all over your room” My eyes widened. “Lisa!” I almost screamed, embarrassed. “You.. You heard?”

Janice was tired of this. Every afternoon she curled up on the couch with her tablet, devouring filthy stories about women who got fucked the way they truly needed — rough, hungry, shameless. Her hand would slip into her panties, fingers frantically rubbing her swollen clit until she came in quick, disappointing waves. It was never enough. Months ago, her husband had made sure of that. He’d discovered her small stash of toys and exploded. “What kind of wife needs that shit?” he’d yelled. “Are you saying I don’t satisfy you?”

A/N In case you have a fantasy you want me to pen down, just comment on it, and I'll pick the new stories from it.

I slipped my hand inside my panties and touched myself directly, gasping at how wet and slippery I had become. I imagined him pushing me gently against his desk, lifting my skirt, and sliding his hand between my legs. In my fantasy, his fingers were veiny and muscular as they explored me, rubbing my clit and then pushing slowly inside me. “Oh…” I whispered, my hips rocking against my own hand. I pushed one finger inside myself, then two, pumping them slowly while my thumb continued rubbing my clit. The fantasy became more vivid. I saw Mr. Blackwood unbuckling his belt, pulling out his thick cock, and rubbing the head against my virgin entrance.

Anna's POV I was lying on my bed, heart pounding, pussy already wet. I had been chatting with him for weeks. My sexy online buddy. The one who made me feel like a dirty little slut even though I was still a virgin. I wanted this so bad. I wanted to finally feel what real sex was like.

Camila stepped inside carefully— And froze. The entire room was filled with paintings. Hundreds of them. Every wall. Every corner. Every canvas. All of them painted the same woman. A beautiful blonde girl with large green eyes. Some paintings showed her smiling. Others laughing. Crying. Sleeping. Dancing. There were so many emotions trapped inside each piece that Camila’s chest immediately tightened. Love. Obsession. Heartbreak. Grief. Every single painting screamed pain. Mateo remained near the doorway silently while Camila slowly walked deeper into the room.

Tonight, though, it was doing something else entirely, making her pulse race with a mix of nerves and wicked excitement. She’d found the messages two nights ago while Mark was in the shower. His phone buzzed on the nightstand; she glanced, saw a p**n forum notification, clicked through out of idle curiosity. Threads upon threads: “Watching my wife get fucked by a stranger,” “Cuckold cleanup,” “Wife’s first BBC.” Her stomach flipped, not with disgust, but with a dark, thrilling recognition. Mark had never said a word. Never hinted. But the timestamps lined up with nights he’d begged her to describe fantasies while he jerked off, always circling back to “what if someone else touched you?”

Sarah had texted Daniel an hour earlier: “Pick up milk, bread, and whatever else we need. Ethan’s tagging along—he needs stuff for his new apartment.” That was the official story. The real story started three months ago in the guest bedroom after too much wine at Sarah’s birthday dinner. A late-night kitchen raid turned into hands under shirts, mouths crashing together in the dark pantry while Sarah slept upstairs. Since then it had been stolen moments—quick handjobs in the garage, blowjobs in Ethan’s car in the driveway, once even a frantic fuck on the laundry room floor while Sarah was at yoga. Never enough. Never safe. Always hungry.

“Good. Because I have darker plans for you, little pet. One day I’ll share you. Let my most trusted men watch while I breed you. Maybe even let them taste what’s mine… if you beg nicely.” The filthy promise sent a fresh wave of arousal through her body. Aliyah was scared. She was addicted. And she was starting to realize she didn’t want this month to ever end. She wanted to keep begging for the Wicked.