Fantasies Novels & Stories

Nor had she ever seen such an eclectic collection of oddities. She picked up a pair of boots, vinyl, with a huge, plastic zipper. A vague memory of a porn film she had accidentally flipped on one late night flashed through her mind. Dominatrix, she believed it was called. She dropped the boots and sank onto a little bench sitting against the wall across from the racks of costumes. Fantasies. She had never had a sexual fantasy. All her sexual thoughts had always centered on Steve and their quiet sex life. All she had ever wanted was his hands on her, his lips telling her the things she wanted to hear.

Cassie did not seem impressed or even comfortable by the question but she decided to act non-chalant. “Okay, I'll tell you this much.” She darted her eyes to the ground and took a large gulp on her drink. “I've always wanted to talk to you alone because I have an idea of what fantasies look like and I guess everyone in this company has their fantasies too. So, it wouldn’t be bad if I assume that Mr.Grey could be creating beautiful scenes in his mind with women and even those he hasn't approached before inclusive, hoping to spend a lifetime with all of them and all those kind of stuffs.” She sipped her drink again.

“Do you wanna hear more fucked up ones where you—you both tease me? Where I bend you over my bike and breed you? Or the one where I find you in the woods and take you?” His voice had a dark edge to it when he whispered the last fantasy, making my dick press against the zipper. I looked at Anna, her pupils dilated as I leaned closer and added to Caleb’s fantasy, “Imagine being scared and alone at night in the woods. No one but us running after you with the promise to fuck you and breed you if you’re caught, and you can do nothing but take it like a good girl. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, angel?” Anna peered at me through her lashes, her neck bobbing as she swallowed. “I…”

“I asked you a question, I expect you to answer.” My tongue caught in my throat. He was being authoritative, and normally it pissed me off when he was demanding. This time was different though, it turned me on. It was his dominant voice, one he had used on me only a few times. Each time ending in earth shattering orgasms. His hand found my hip. “Fantasy- the forming of mental images, especially wondrous or strange fancies; imaginative conceptualizing,” his other hand found my cheek. “What were you imagining when I said fantasy?”

We were on a job and distractions could be life-threatening. Despite a lifetime of discipline Valefar had poured into me to keep me sharply focused, floods of fantasies swamped my mind and I was powerless to stop them. Would my mate be handsome? Would he bother to tell me his name before he swept me off my feet and covered my body from head to toe in passionate kisses? I couldn't help but picture toned muscles pressed against the soft curves of my naked body. Thick fingers, rough but gentle, stroking up my inner thigh, inching ever closer to my -