Female Fantasy Authors Novels & Stories

I would kill to have my lips on those nipples and on her belly sucking those fat pussy lips or have her crouch sitting on my face while I dig my tongue deep into her pussy, tongue fucking her. It would be my first time fucking a female but I hell wanted to get used as an amateur. Suddenly I didn’t want Sunny anymore. I wanted Olivia. She would fulfill all of my fantasies. I just really wished she was a lesbian too. But I knew she wasn’t. My hands trailed down my neck softly, my other hand cupping my boobs. My lace bra barely a barrier to feeling its warmth. I yanked my laptop off impatiently, seeking more graphic explicit arousal than my mind was providing.

Naughty-elle. He took out his phone and searched for Naughty-elle on only fans. His eyes widened in shock as he turned to look at her sleeping figure. Gabrielle was a popular anonymous user on only fans with about one point four million subscribers. Her specialty was masturbating and display of sex toys collections. Mouth wide, he turned to her again and her eyes were open.

My pussy clamped down hard on the dildo. No. Stop. That's wrong. But my body didn't listen. The fantasy twisted; Sebastian’s hands instead of Marcus’s, his younger, harder thrusts, his voice younger and rougher while calling me something dirty while mom slept in the next room. Forbidden. Slick and hot. I fucked myself faster. Harder. The vibrator mashed against my clit until stars burst behind my eyelids. “I'm gonna come…fuck daddy… I’m gonna squirt thinking about you…” I didn't say whose name. Didn't want to know.

Aysel Saat whispered to herself shaking her head as her fingers kept on running on the keys as the lady typed down the scenario which was no doubt affecting her own body. "Now I suspect that authors might write such chapters whenever they feel the urge. Well, might be a plausible theory." The author concluded a premise on the basis of her current condition in that very moment which forced a gush of emotions in her lower abdomen. *The woman chuckles softly, her eyes never leaving his face. "Fuck I want you so badly." He squeezes her breasts with one hand while his other starts removing his own pants. When he pulls his pants down and tosses his boxers aside, the desirable woman could see his t

reveals the history of the most terrible necromancer of all time. Silvia Liam is an author of twenty romance fantasy novels both in Russian and English languages. Writing has always been her passion. She enjoys creating romantic stories featuring sweet sensual and passionate characters. Her career as an author started when she was twenty-five years old. Now her books have more than 150 000 reads world-wide. She is married and has two amazing daughters.

“And she enjoys that?” Her body twitched excitedly, slutty little minx that it was, giving her away. “Um, yeah. I mean…there’s a massive, massive difference between fantasy and reality. She wouldn’t really want to be tortured by the KGB. But being tied up and sexily menaced by someone she liked could be pretty fun, don’t you think?” “I think,” he murmured, “the boundaries of fantasy are less permeable than people realize.” “Um? What?”

The room becomes a tangle of limbs, a writhing mass of naked flesh, each girl eager for a turn. One of them, a petite brunette with a mischievous smile, leans in and whispers, “Let me taste you while he fucks her.” She dips her head, her tongue flicking over the blonde’s clit as he continues to pound into her, the added stimulation making the blonde’s moans rise to a frantic pitch. “Oh fuck, yes—don’t stop!” she screams, her voice cracking with pleasure. The brunette giggles, her own hand sliding between her legs, fingers pumping fast as she watches the scene unfold.

"This place... it might be a bit much. If it freaks you out, we can turn right around and leave. No pressure." Jay reached up, his fingers lightly brushing over the edge of my mask. "Open the door, Jake," he murmured softly, his eyes heavy with arousal. My heart hammered against my ribs. I turned the handle and pushed the heavy door open. The red room was dimly lit, drenched in deep crimson light and thick with the scent of leather, sweat, and heavy perfume. Everywhere you looked, bodies were entangled. Men and women were having sex openly on leather benches, padded tables, and plush rugs, using whips, restraints, and various toys.

On her laptop screen, two women were having passionate lesbian sex, one licking the other. I bit my lip hard. I didn’t know she was into girls. The sight of her touching herself like that made my own pussy throb instantly. I should have left. But I couldn’t move. Lynn’s fingers moved faster. She moaned louder, her hips lifting off the bed. “Fuck… yes…” she whispered. I slipped my hand into my shorts without thinking. I was already wet. I rubbed my clit slowly, watching her. My breath was shaky. I had fantasized about her so many times, but seeing her like this was something else.

Raquel's POV Where do writers get their inspiration? This is the most common question I have been asked for years. I am Raquel Peterson, one of the bestselling authors of romance novels. I am not in a relationship with anyone so people are puzzled where I get my inspirations. I had my first book published when I was twenty and since then I have twelve more books published. I may have found what the readers love and I was able to create a fantasy that they all fall for. My books weren’t merely on paper but were made into movies and TV series.