Female Fantasy Stories Novels & Stories

I tried to beg, the quivering of my legs getting harder, as did my attempts to close them. “Be a good doll and come for me again,” he commanded, and my body had no other choice but to obey his command.I came, and the sensation rocked my world.I couldn’t anymore. And when I thought that, I felt a finger pushing inside me, and starting to move.“P-p-pleas-s-s-” I tried saying, but my mouth was too busy taking in air to let me speak.My whole body shook as I felt another finger slide inside.“Oh, puppy, the fun is just starting.” He curled his fingers inside of me, and all that was left of me were pieces. I was flying in the air, among the stars, and having an extraterrestrial experience.Weird sou

I've had this fantasy since I was nineteen years old. Not the polished version – not the softcore "oh wouldn't it be naughty" version you admit to over cocktails when someone asks your wildest fantasy. The real one. The one I play on the backs of my eyelids when my vibrator is on the highest setting and I'm chasing the orgasm that only this image delivers: me, naked, surrounded by men. Hands everywhere. Cocks everywhere. Being passed between them like something precious and filthy, the singular focus of four, five, six men who want nothing except to use my body until I can't remember my own name.

I ask her, while positioning myself between her legs. "I never cheated on Frank, except with Harry. I never had sex with a woman, although it sounds intriguing, I used to masturbate a lot, before Harry and I got together, but I don't now. My wildest fantasy is to be fucked by a well-hung black guy. And I think a threesome with Nicole would be a sick, perverted thing to do." She says, surprising me only with the fantasy. My thoughts turn immediately to Carl, Carolyn's husband and his huge, black cock.

No foreplay was required in this ecstatic world of perfection, and penetration was effected in a single snag-free glide. Tumbling back to reality, and almost falling off his stool in the process, Elliot sighed with regret. He really loved the ‘hotel room’ fantasy, although he had to admit it wasn’t entirely all his own work. The protagonists - Diamanda and himself — were his choice of course, but the scenario, the setting and the nitty-gritty of the bedroom action came straight from one of the lady’s own stories, The Spider's Web, which was all about a beautiful, sexually voracious woman who picked up young men in bars and lured them to hotel rooms to fuck them.

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

She brought both breasts back to my penis and wet them again, and brought them back to my mouth. The next moment, she straddled me again, and checked my bondage's for tightness. I could definitely not move my hands or my legs. "Do you know what I read recently?" "No, what?" "I read a story that you posted online. It was called 'I want you to feed me'." I stared blankly,I'd forgotten that she read my sex stories online, sometimes, especially this one. "Uhhh yes well..." "Do you remember writing the story, do you remember what it was about?" As she questioned me, she was humping her open pûssy over the head and shaft of my cock.

He doesn't stop—oh fuck, he doesn't stop—curling deeper, his palm slapping against my clit with every savage plunge. The overstimulation burns, sweet and agonizing, building me right back up until my thighs are shaking, my shameless release running down my legs. I love it. I love it so much it breaks me open, tears rolling freely now because this is my fantasy come to life. The one I've poured into my secret werewolf smut stories under the name Alpha's Little Slut. Alphas who claim hard, wreck thoroughly, and leave their mates ruined and begging for more. But this is better. Realer. Azren's fingers are merciless, stretching me, owning me, his breath hot and ragged against my ear as he whispe

“I’m so wet for you already. Just from thinking about your hands.” She added a second finger, pumping gently, eyes locked on his photo. “I bet your cock’s thick… bet it stretches me so good. Fuck, Derek, I want you to catch me like this. Walk in and see your girlfriend’s daughter fucking herself on your bed.” Her free hand pinched a nipple hard, back arching. “Yes… just like that… use me while Mom’s gone…” The fantasy built fast. She rubbed faster, thighs trembling. “Please… come home… find me… make me squirt all over her sheets…”

The Taboo Chronicles is a curated collection of dark, twisted, and unapologetically erotic stories designed to push the boundaries of conventional desire. From the sacred halls of a silent church to the high-stakes shadows of obsessive power plays, these stories explore the raw, unyielding side of human hunger. Whether it’s the thrill of a secret shared in the dark or the surrender of a soul to a dominant force, nothing is off-limits.