Fantasies Fulfilled Novels & Stories

“Start by confessing, Tyler. Tell us about your crush. In detail. We want to hear how you think about me when you’re at your desk.” My face burned. “Priya… you’re incredible. Your curves, those full breasts, wide hips, thick thighs… even your short wavy hair drives me crazy. Every time you lean over my desk, I get hard. I’ve jerked off thinking about you.” Priya laughed, a low, throaty sound. “Mmm, honest boy. Keep going. What else?” “I… I’ve fantasized about all of you,” I admitted, my voice shaky. “Group stuff. Orgy. I've fantasised about being used instead of intentional consensual fuck. I've fantasied about completely letting go.”

I ran my hands over his gorgeously, muscled ass, while savoring the musky arousal on my tongue. Then his moans grew, becoming more urgent, and vibrating through my whole body. I felt the shaft swell just before it painted my tongue with hot, creamy warmth. Filling my tongue...filling my fantasies with his manly essence, our moans merged into a chorus of man-on-man ecstasy. "Ahhhh...ahhhh...fuckkkkkkkkkkkkk!" When he finished, I gripped his big, wet dick and grinned, "So how often do you fantasize about me? Do you jack off to the fantasies?"

My wife loved having me suck and lick her freshly fucked pussy clean. Tonight, she asked me if I had any new fantasies. I have for years fantasized about watching my gorgeous wife being fucked by at least 2 other men while I watched. I also loved thinking about my sexy wife having sex with another sexy woman. My wife, Kim, knew of these fantasies and loved to tease and taunt me by talking about it – many times at inappropriate times. While out in public, we would see an attractive woman, Kim would notice me looking at her and then would whisper, "I'll bet you'd like to see me suck her big tits!" She would give a sexy, little grin and my cock would immediately stiffen in my pants.

Her nymph trait had her on edge, her body craving more, the fantasy so vivid she could almost feel their cocks inside her, stretching her, claiming her. The dream shifted again, Delilah on her knees now, sucking Eli's cock while Zeke took her from behind and Damien played with her nipples. "You're our slut," they chanted in her mind, the words degrading and arousing. She curled her fingers inside herself, hitting that sweet spot as her other hand squeezed her breast, pinching the nipple until it hurt. "Yes, mark me—make me yours," she begged in her fantasy, her real body shaking as an orgasm built. The room smelled of her arousal, a heady scent that filled the air as she fucked herself harde

About what people would think if they saw me now — sucking cock under a table and touching myself to get off. I let myself fully let go and delve into my fantasies, embracing every slutty thought. Axel’s cock stiffens and then starts to twitch. Hot cum gushes in my mouth and I moan against his cock as I drink him in. I slip a finger into my cunt, imagining it’s his cock. I press down harder on my button and a surge of euphoria fills my body like a hot air balloon. It grows, grows, grows, and then …it pops.

“Like… what kind? Praise or Fifty Shades?” He smiled. “Never read either of them. I want someone to please. With pain. With pleasure. Safely. Consensually. Not at your place. Not at mine. Neutral ground. A place called Fantasies.” I licked my lips. He made it sound tempting. I wasn’t that kind of woman. At least I didn't think I was. “That’s a very generous offer, but—”

After a short minute she contracted around me and released her cum. My thrusts became sloppy, and I spilled myself in her. I rolled off of her and on the bed next to her. She told me she had a fantasy to get fucked in her sleep and I was happy to oblige. I would fuck her all day and night if she’d let me. Hell, if she was a vampire that fantasy could come true. We wouldn’t ever need to sleep, and we’d never be tired.

Willingly stepping into my web, ready to be devoured. I stroked faster, the words fueling the fire, imagining her arrival: at my door in a trench coat, nothing underneath as I'd instruct, her body bare and waiting. I'd rip it open, slam her against the wall, and make every fantasy real—her mouth, her pussy, all mine in a night of sinful excess. The thought pushed me over the edge: I came hard, ropes of hot cum arcing onto my shirt and abs, my roar echoing in the empty penthouse like a promise of what's to come.

I moved to suck him, but he flipped me, and, god-damn it, I needed to get fuck hard at that moment. While I was on my back with my legs spread out, I guided him in. Into my cunt and I watched my tits bounce as he slammed deeply, filling me again. Afterward, I sucked him clean with my mouth. He whispered we'd meet on Tuesday too. He was 'working on my fantasies.' Driving home and collared in spirit, I knew: I was his fuck toy. ****** The days after that Thursday dragged on endlessly. Work, home, routine smiles with David... all shadowed by anticipation. What did "working on my fantasies" mean? He'd never elaborated, just that sly promise as we dressed. Tuesday couldn't come soon enough.

Our passion intertwines like a complex dance, each movement perfectly synchronized, each touch sending shivers down our spines. In the depths of our desire, we reach climax repeatedly, our bodies becoming one in a symphony of pleasure. It is a euphoric experience, a culmination of our deepest desires and fantasies. In those moments, time stands still, and the world around us fades away, leaving only the raw, unadulterated connection between us.