Spicy Imagine Scenarios Mga Nobela at Kwento

His warm, spicy scent is a complement to the spices in my food. Malix has stopped channel surfing on some sitcom with a laugh track, and every time the audience roars at a joke, I get a twitch in my eye. Nothing to do now but settle in and wait. I take a bite of my burrito, cringing when the exterior is hotter than lava and the interior is still half-frozen. I force myself to chew and not gag, though I almost consider tossing this in the trash and going to chase down a rabbit instead.

When the call ended, I fell on the couch but that was just the beginning of my fantasy. What if I had a threesome with Massimo and Gladys? I closed my eyes and tried to keep a vivid imagination while I slid my hands into my panties. I moaned softly as I touched myself and imagined it was one of them. "Fuck," I said with a needy look. "This is fucking hot."

all of it fuels her imagination, creating moments that have never happened but somehow feel dangerously possible. Catarina lies back on the bed, hugging her pillow as she allows her imagination to take over. She pictures herself sitting beside him in the office, laughing at an inside joke only the two of them understand. She imagines the warmth of his hand wrapped around hers, the intensity of his gaze making her cheeks flush, the mischievous smile that always seems to promise something she doesn't quite understand yet. Every memory she relives makes her heart beat faster and the warmth in her cheeks grow stronger.

Dinner was finally served, and by some twisted stroke of cosmic bad luck, I ended up sitting directly across from Greg. I couldn’t focus on a single damn thing the entire evening. My mind was a complete warzone of explicit, filthy scenarios. All I could picture was myself somewhere in this house — legs spread, completely naked, getting absolutely railed by him while he whispered dirty things in my ear. The mental images were so vivid I had to press my thighs together under the table just to stop myself from squirming.

Draining all hope and imagination out of me. Holy fuck! What if he doesn't love me? “I should get going.” With a serious face, I said to him and walked away. As I made my way to Ander apartment, my mind was filled with dirty imagination. Dirty fantasy that let me go wild. “Pin me to the wall. Alpha.” “Please fuck me. I want your dick.” “Go harder. Suck my nipples. Lick my p**sy.* That thought alone was driving me crazy. Making my nipples hard. The sensation, my imagination all crashed away the moment I entered the sitting room and founded Ander.

It gestured—or the code lines around its hands flared in a way that communicated the same. In the air between us, a ripple opened. Two branching streams of imagery unfolded like tangled holographic trees. On one side: the scenarios it had already shown. Corvin human and whole in some hospital room. Jax with his family. Maria is alive. My parents with my book. On the other: worlds. Endless worlds. A warped graveyard. A darker arena city. A carnival with sharper teeth. New environments I didn’t recognize yet—icy wastelands, burning towers, oceans full of reaching hands.

[Tanya] Kieran peered at the hot, feminine figure in front of him, his hands trailing from her slim waist to her sexy hips but as he brought his lips closer to hers, he got a very loud and hard slap on his left cheek. "Jesus" I cringed, quickly sitting up on the bed and ending my imagination. Why would I even have such a scene playing in my brain? Oh, God, am I a bad person? Is it bad to imagine Kieran getting slapped by Sheila? Is it bad of me to think about Kieran cancelling that dinner date with Sheila?

he moaned, “just like a vice around my cock." He used his palms to spread my ass cheeks like a loaf of bread. My eyes watered when his tip touched that spot. “Yes Daddy please,” I begged, gripping the edge of the chair hard as he increased his pace. “Harder,” I moaned, heat surging through my veins. The smell of nicotine filtered through my nose and with heavily lidded eyes I saw Mr. Sinclair watching us lazily from his seat on the couch, his protruded cock still bobbing as he puffed on his cigar.

He felt his finger twitch, as if they were asking him to run them along Spade's ass. He cleared his throat and looked away quickly, what was suddenly going on with him? He'd never had such obscene thoughts before, not once in all his life Thoughts about things like that sometimes repulsed him, in the past whenever he thought about things like that, he would almost wanna throw up, his skin would crawl in disgust and a very painful and sour memory would surface, but now all he could think about was how thrilling it would feel to explore something like that, not just that but to explore it with Spade.

Ivy's POV At the look of raw, primal fear in Spencer’s eyes, I suddenly get the feeling that something is very, very wrong. “What–what is it?” I say tentatively, looking at Spencer with wide, frightened eyes. I can smell all the wonderful aromas of the food laid out in front of me–the luscious rich scent of rare, just-barely-cooked meat, herbs roasted in butter, delicately braised vegetables… But now at the sight of the meal, my stomach churns.