Gang Rape Fantasy Novels & Stories

I spread my legs wider, my fingers sliding back in, three now, stretching my pussy as I imagined his tongue circling my clit again, slow and torturous. “Please, Daddy… eat my pussy,” I moaned, my hips grinding against my hand, mimicking the way I’d ride his face. I pictured him grabbing my thighs, pulling me closer, his tongue plunging into my cunt, fucking it deep while his fingers teased my asshole, slipping in and out, making me scream. My fantasies grew dirtier, my fingers pumping faster. I imagined him tying my wrists to the bedposts, my legs spread wide, pussy exposed and dripping.

They alternated, spit-roasting me, hands pinning my wrists. I came repeatedly, body shaking, until they both pulled out, cumming on my tits and face. Hot ropes of semen marked me, their possession complete. As we lay tangled, sweat-slicked, I knew this was just the beginning. My deceptions were unravelling into reality, and I craved every taboo moment.

Tyler leaned back in his chair, legs spread wide. “Good girl. Tell us one fantasy you’ve never told your husband. Something dirty that gets that married pussy wet when you’re alone.” I laughed a little, shifting on the couch, feeling the damp spot growing in my panties. My mind raced back to nights touching myself thinking about rough hands and filthy words. “Okay, truth. Sometimes I imagine getting fucked by more than one guy at once. Not gentle. Hard, pinning me down, taking turns until I’m shaking and dripping everywhere. Jake would freak if he knew I thought about shit like that.”

PRECIOUS "It's your turn Preclious," Nate yelled, "Have you ever fantasied about fucking five boys at once?" I stared at Nate, my heart pounding rapidly. He just smiled slowly, not taking his eyes off me. I would be a terrible liar to say I haven't. I had fantasized about it. In all those harem stories I read, my mind had always wondered what it would feel like to have multiple men completely surrounded by me, filled in all sides with their cum, and getting touched all over.

I had a rape fantasy. Not the kind where I actually wanted to be hurt or traumatized. It was the fantasy of being taken. Of being overpowered by a strong, masked stranger who wanted me so badly he could not control himself. Of being forced to submit while my body betrayed me with pleasure. I had touched myself to that thought for years, imagining rough hands, a hand over my mouth, a thick cock forcing its way inside me while I pretended to fight. And now it seemed like my fantasy had stepped out of my head and into my life.

Every question now felt like a weapon designed to expose and arouse. “Never have I ever had a gangbang fantasy,” Marcus said, his voice rough with desire. I drank without hesitation, my hand slightly shaking as I set the bottle down. All five of them stared at me with pure predatory hunger. Tyler delivered what felt like the final blow. “Never have I ever fucked more than one person in the same night.” I drank again. The stories that followed were extremely explicit, full of threesomes, watching friends fuck, and sharing partners. My nipples ached painfully. A visible wet spot had formed on the crotch of my shorts. I was dripping wet, my pussy throbbing with urgent need.

How can we put an end to this if we don’t stay away from each other? We were not in any kind of relationship, but when I write my diary entry that night, it feels like I’ve been jilted. I strike through the whole entry, determined not to let him mar my sexy fantasies. Just because I stopped acting on these fantasies doesn’t mean I can’t write them. This time, I’m writing from experience. When Rhys touches me in my fantasies, I feel his touch as though it were real, the scent of his skin when he embraces me so unadulterated that the lines between imagination and reality start to blur.

He made me ride him, his hands on my hips guiding me as I bounced on his thick cock, my sore ass slapping against his thighs. “Imagine it,” he whispered as I neared another orgasm. “Your belly starting to swell in a few weeks, tits getting fuller, everyone wondering who knocked up the good girl. Only we’ll know it was your stepfather breeding you right under this roof.” The fantasy pushed me over the edge again. I came with a broken moan, collapsing onto his chest as he filled me for the third time that evening. I laid lumped against him, tangled together with him, his hand resting possessively over my lower belly.

"Don't talk about another man while I'm burying myself in you, moya plamya." "Why not? Don't you want your men to watch you claim your woman?" Good fucking God. I am not an exhibitionist and I'm definitely not okay with anyone seeing Anna like this. But the fantasy... the mental image of taking her, sprawled across my desk, naked and writhing and screaming my name, sobbing for more... while our Bratva watches... When I shudder and groan my release into her, she joins me.

Although she wasn't a stranger, in a sense, she was. But that didn’t change the fact we were blood, and fucking my granddaughter crossed every line. I pulled her back and cupped her cheeks, staring into her face. “I wasn't too rough this time?” I knew I had been hardcore tonight, but when she asked me to play this game, she said she wanted me to push the bounds and go harder than I ever had before. Fulfilling her rape fantasy needed to seem real for her, and when she smiled up at me, I knew I’d given her what she wanted.