Impregnation Fantasy Stories Mga Nobela at Kwento

The moment I did, the darkness was filled with them. Finn’s rough thumb against my cheek. Kelly’s massive frame looming over me. “Nova...” I could hear them in the hiss of the steam, their voices merging into a dark, forbidden demand. In my mind, the fantasy bloomed, violent and intoxicating. A soft, broken moan escaped my lips. My hand slid down my wet belly, my fingers parting my aching folds and sliding straight into the slick, dripping heat of my own desire. I was soaking wet, leaking heavily.

The weeks that followed our stolen encounters turned into a dangerous dance of corporate sabotage by day and filthy, desperate surrender by night. The Apex Dynamics merger had become bloodier than ever, with both companies trading vicious blows in boardrooms and through legal teams. Yet every sharp insult Damien threw at me across the conference table only made me wetter by the time I reached his penthouse. I kept telling myself it was nothing more than hate-fueled sex. But the lie grew thinner with every orgasm he ripped from my body.

I felt like clay in his hands, ready to be molded. My treacherous mind decided to play steaming images behind my retinas. *Me, bent over my desk, my skirt hiked up around my waist, his hands gripping my hips so hard they’d leave bruises as he drove into me from behind, his thick cock stretching me, filling me until I screamed. His breath hot against my ear as he whispered my name like a prayer.* The fantasy was so vivid I could almost feel the ghost of his possession, a deep, hollow pulse blooming into a slick, wet heat between my thighs.

Updates for this series will be twice or thrice a week, with a full upload of a story, not chapter-by-chapter updates, depending on my school schedules. What fantasy do you have? Comment on it, and you might be lucky enough to get your story chosen.

I dipped one finger in, slow, circling my entrance, gathering the wetness. Steve’s tongue, God, his tongue. Flat and relentless, lapping from bottom to top, flicking my clit until my hips bucked. I mimicked it now, sliding my finger up to that sensitive nub, rubbing in slow, firm circles. Pleasure sparked, low and building, my breath hitching. Josh entered the fantasy then. Tall, scarred, his big hands cupping my breasts, thumbs rolling my nipples until they peaked hard. I used my free hand to push my blouse open, bra unclasped with a quick flick.

But even my early morning feelings of guilt could not cloud the emotions that were raised in me by my night- time fantasies, which, as you will read, were hardly 'mainstream'! One of my first fantasies was where I was taken prisoner by a tribe of beautiful Amazons. They dragged me to their camp and stripped me naked before tying me spread-eagled between four stakes. They tormented me by whipping my exposed body; my chest, my legs and of course my cock and balls. And as they whipped me my cock grew harder and ached to be released.

The fantasy has been with me since I was fifteen. Not the violence. Not the fear. But the idea of being taken. Kept. Used until I forget who I was before. Until my old life feels like a dream and the only reality is him – whoever he is, whatever he wants, however he chooses to use me. I could never explain it to vanilla partners. The few times I tried, I saw the judgment in their eyes. The concern. The way they looked at me differently afterward, like I was broken. Damaged. Something to be fixed.

Since that would be in a few days, werewolves, vampires, supernatural creatures were coming towards the city, for the festivities. Since I had partially changed just enough to show her my devilish tongue, she must have been lying in bed, completely scared, even for those her mind must have been mad with temptation and pleasure, putting all the glory, beyond all the critics. In which everyone was imagining and idealizing that imposing figure of power, entering into the midst of desires, in which their future was uncertain, everyone there was trying to understand their new half-brother and the danger she was in for being just a door away from me.

Iris moaned, her tits bouncing wildly as he pounded into her from behind. Cathy couldn’t help but stare. The fantasy she had played over and over in her mind for a long time was happening right in front of her, more vivid and visceral than any dream. She had wondered for months how to bridge the gap, how to make the first move in this strange, blended family dynamic. But today, the heat and the proximity had finally broken her resolve. She decided right then to go with the flow, she saw a dildo just close to where she stood she picked it up and decided to use it to please herself while convincing herself that he is her stepbrother which means joining in isn't allowed.

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains breeding/impregnation fantasies, rough sex, dominance/submission dynamics, and werewolf erotica themes. Reader discretion advised – triggers for non-consensual undertones in fantasy context, size difference, and intense power play. This is going to be a long series. Enjoy ;) CHAPTER ONE