Romans & histoires Spell Fantasies

THEMES: Voyeuristic fantasy, Neighbors, proximity tension KINKS: Voyeurism & exhibitionism, Mutual self- pleasure, Eye- contact control, breathy praise, Hair- grip, tongue play, teasing, denial cadence. I have a favorite daydream I never say out loud. It’s stupid and simple, but it burns... deep down in my mind, haunting me daily as I think of what it would be like to watch a man, alone with his shoulders tense and his hand moving up and down over his cock.

In another, I held a small, glowing orb in my hands, its light pulsing in rhythm with my own accelerated heartbeat. The most potent images were of battles—clashes of steel, roars of beasts, and the chilling screams of pain. I saw Lycans fighting alongside humans, an unlikely alliance forged in the fires of war. There was blood, so much blood, staining the ground and splattering against stone walls. And through it all, a sense of immense power, both terrifying and exhilarating, pulsed within me, emanating from the glowing parchment. The visions intensified, becoming more vivid, more insistent. I saw a moon, swollen and blood-red, hanging ominously in a sky torn by lightning. Below it, two opp

And the spells were only for one thing. Sex. I flipped through all the pages, dumbfounded. There were pictures of naked people with arrows pointing to boobs or pussies or cocks, and instructions on the spells to cast to make them bigger or tighter or thicker. My jaw dropped when the next page I turned had a picture of a woman being fucked hard in the middle of a pentagon, by a wonderfully handsome man with horns and a tail. No shit. Demon sex.

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.”

There are a series of sex toys on her nightstand and a framed picture of a younger version of Susy in pigtails hairstyle and an innocent smile. I know people love sex a lot and it can be addictive but most times I worry about her having a trauma that led to her being a nymphomaniac. There has to be something that triggered it because the young innocent girl I'm staring at didn't look she would blossom into a broken version of Suzy. Life has probably dealt a deadly blow on her. "What are you doing?" Suzy cleared her throat, calling my attention. "I came in and you were nowhere to be found. I needed you to perform a locator spell on Hilda."

I cursed myself for entertaining such treacherous thoughts, but they persisted, flooding my mind with unwanted visions. I imagined the gentle brush of his fingertips, the soft caress of his lips, and the shiver-inducing sensation of his mouth on mine. My mind's eye conjured images of myself beneath him, arching in ecstasy as he awakened sensations I'd never known. The Darkness within me reveled in these depraved fantasies, refusing to relinquish its hold on my imagination.

I shouldn't be touching that nice remote, nor should I be diving into the swirl of sheets in the colossal mattress. Closing my eyes, I try not to focus on the waves of opulence surrounding me. I imagine myself as a fierce warrior fighting a group of familiar werewolves for freedom. Even the thought brings a smile to my face. But I have to be honest with myself; is this fantasy really possible? Could I fight these gifted werewolves and have any chance of winning? Could I take even one of them? I give up all hope of resistance and sink into the mellow depths of paradise.

I took my hands off the tree and fell back, only to land on an ultra-soft mattress. I blinked, looking up to realize I was not in the forest anymore but a fancy bedroom of some old-school fairytale castle. This is seriously messing with me. And how did I end up under these blankets? I threw the blankets back and frowned as I looked down. Shit Witch has some seriously fucked up fantasies. I may enjoy role-playing, but I don’t particularly appreciate being dressed like some frilly Prince Charming in Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. I tugged at the annoying high frilly collar, tearing it, and yanked the uncomfortable shirt and coat off.

I had the worst sleep of my life last night, that fucking woman came to the front of my mind the second I close my eyes. I awoke with my pants pitched in a tent at the dreams that overwhelmed my mind. Seeing her body has been pure restless torture. In my dreams, I see her step under the running water. I see the warm liquid running over her smooth skin, from the top, over her plump lips, between the moulds of her breasts and down the smooth taut skin of her stomach and then… Fuck I need to clear my mind.

Modern, furnished and beautiful and looking new everyday although the house was five years old already. Juana's coffee was transparent, lot of water,lot of sugar, no milk. So she could see her face while sipping at it. Her big blue eyes were a bit undefined, her expression showed fear with a mixture of helplessness and unusual calm. Then the dream came again. Avocado. Garden. Branch. Third branch. Corpse dripping with blood. Loose. Screaming. Empty House. Dream. "Oh my goodness" she sighed, dropping her half empty mug. She tried to make meaning out of it, but it was a little creepy..