Oriental Fantasy Novels & Stories

My fingers found my clit—already slick, already begging—and the first slow circle made my back arch so hard water sloshed over the edge. “Oh God,” I whispered, even though I knew it was the wrong name to say. I stroked faster. Two fingers sliding over and around my clit while my other hand came up to pinch my nipple the way I imagined he might. The water made everything slippery, louder. I slipped one finger inside myself, then two, curling them the way I’d done every morning for weeks. My hips rocked up to meet my hand. The fantasy took over completely—Father Chris’s voice in my ear, his breath hot against my neck, his fingers replacing mine, thicker, surer, pressing that spot that made sta

I saw the way Dax’s eyes tracked her when she was loaded in, conflicted yet inescapably tethered. Council Territory unfolds like a forgotten legend: rolling hills dotted with stone markers etched with lunar runes that pulse faintly under the rising sun. The oracle’s grove nestles deep in a shadowed valley; a sacred circle of gnarled oaks whose twisted branches form a natural canopy. A shimmering pool at its centre is fed by a silver-threaded spring, the water bubbling softly like whispered secrets. The air hums with raw magic – thick, electric – prickling my skin and raising the hairs on my arms. Aria surges stronger here, clawing at the barriers inside me, desperate to break free.

“Fantasy?” Came the uncertain inquiry through the bullhorn that sounded out loudly amongst the hustle and bustle of the crowded pier. Raising my hand I picked up my duffel bag and began making my way forward. As I walked the men about me stared. They always stared. It was kind of nice and yet annoying at the same time. It didn’t help that my Russian born mother so enamored with her relocation to a new and in her eyes, ‘fantasy land’ of America had named me as such.

With each step they take, they draw closer to the heart of the mystery, and the line that separates reality from fantasy becomes ever thinner. The visions persist, their spell unbroken a tapestry of enchantment woven into the new character's consciousness. Intrigue dances like firelight in their eyes, igniting a thirst for understanding that cannot be quenched. Their thoughts are consumed by the images that have taken root, a symphony of colors and shapes that defy logic. The call of curiosity is too strong to resist, and they find themselves drawn into a quest that transcends the boundaries of their everyday life.

She felt like a child who had wondered into an R rated movie. "Our employees are all chosen for their exceptional physical traits. All the men are at least six feet tall, all are younger than thirty, and all are-" Here Mrs. Hartley hesitated, making Emma look up. There was a sparkle in her eyes as she held her hands a little over a foot apart. "-well endowed," she finished. "The ladies are also chosen carefully," she continued. "They are all well-toned and have a bra size of at least DD. A dozen ladies are available for fantasy play, as well as more than twenty males."

"Several decades ago, when the earth was dominated by men who mistreated women and kept them in the dark, Omari, a brave woman from the Eastern tribe, decided to fight for her happiness and that of every other woman. When she confronted the leader of the Eastern tribe, she was punished severely. She was locked up in the dungeon, starved of food and water for twenty eight days. During that period, an army of otherworlders possessed by dark spirits, attacked the Eastern tribe. Lying in the dungeon, Omari had a vision from the deity of war. Not only did she discover that there was a war going on, she also discovered a way to gain supernatural powers to defeat the enemies. She was suddenly stren

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.

I sat down on the pillow and she sat across from me. The first man on the scroll went by the name Lyrien. Lyrien was a brooding, loyal knight who according to what's stated here had some deep connections with Eldrador. I don't think that I have seen him before but he was selected to represent one of the four elements: Earth. The second man was Caspien, a calm and enigmatic healer with the power to control tides and he represented the water. He was from the Asttland kingdom far away from here.

The crowd was awed by the sight as well. “Your princess is a Phoenix. This is how she represents happiness,” Corithias explained. The people were awed by their magnificent Phoenix princess. “If you will excuse us, we have important matters to discuss,” Corithias told them as they went inside with Firait.

I started having a vision of something that made absolutely no sense at all. I am in a castle, but it's not ours. I see Aidinth and a king exchanging greetings, and his queen walks up to me and smiles. She tells me thank you, for something, then we walk into a sitting room. We are just making small talk, when her son comes in the sitting room. He sits next to me, although there are other places to sit. I feel very uncomfortable when he puts his arm on the back of the couch, behind me. His mother introduces me to him, and I just nod at him. I turn my back to him, so that he can see I'm not interested. I also try to turn my head to the wall behind us, so that he can see my mark. He's not getti