Spicy Imagine Scenarios Novels & Stories

The comforting familiarity of my house soothes me as I come to terms with my situation. I enter the kitchen and decide to test what I can do within my dreams. Could I change them with my own imagination? I close my eyes and think about a warm pan of baked ziti in the oven. I focus on every little detail including the taste and smell of it. When I open my eyes, the kitchen smells like baked ziti. The oven door hangs open before me, letting out heat. On the rack inside sits a pan of baked ziti, cooked to perfection.

I have tried to seduce Lena countless times, but she always shyly pulled away like she was scared of getting tainted by me. I wanted to break that innocence. I wanted to hear her scream out my name in pleasure while I pounded her from behind as her huge tits bounced from the impact. I have envisioned this fantasy so hard that thinking about it made my dick twitch in my pants painfully. I fantasized about how warm her tight cunt would feel when I was balls deep inside her. How it would feel like when I fucked her mouth while those innocent brown orbs looked up to me like I was her salvation. And I would worship her like the goddess she was, if only she would give me a chance.

Allison’s POV: On the way back to the house, Jacob’s words kept echoing in my mind. I couldn’t help but imagine myself in that black lingerie, waiting for him to have sex with me. I could imagine him tearing off my clothes and watching me all over. I could imagine him holding my hands tightly together and forcing himself upon me. I could imagine losing my virginity to him. However, along with all those dreadful imaginations, unexpectedly I could also imagine myself enjoying it. I could imagine myself moaning loudly. I could imagine myself pressing my fingers onto his back and curling my toes to bear the intensity.

Amy imagined her weird fantasy as an opening scene to a sci-fi action film. It was a crazy fantasy, and Amy would imagine it all the time. While Amy was making love to her husband inside this futuristic sports car, she would also imagine her favorite rap song playing through the sports car’s sound system. Amy would imagine caressing her hands down her husband’s bare, muscular chest while listening to Tupac Shakur’s Only God Can Judge Me. Tupac was Amy’s favorite rapper. Sometimes, Amy would fantasize about making love to her husband while listening to Tupac. Before Amy met her husband, she would often fantasize about making love to Tupac.

Fuck why am I thinking like this The more I dwelled on the possibilities, the more my imagination conjured up vivid scenes of calamity. Images flashed through my mind like fragments of a nightmare—ambulances screeching through crowded streets, hospitals filled with anxious faces, and Max lying helpless on a hospital bed. Each thought intensified the knot of anxiety that coiled in my stomach.

“Imagine my mouth breathing hot air against your cunt right now, my tongue running through your pretty slit over and over again like a dog. I'm eating your pussy like I'm fucking starved, Princess. Whatever you're thinking, think deeper.” God. I could barely care less about my environment right now. My hands immediately tightened on the sheets, trying not to lose control too fast. “Imagine my tongue deep inside you right now, in and out, in and out, fast, faster, no stopping.” As he spoke, I imagined everything happening and it was making a mess of me. I felt so good down there, Jesus.

He got jealous imagining her with another man, so instead of that he imagined her with himself. Maybe on this couch, inside her bedroom, on top of kitchen slab and of cource shower sex would have been her favourite part of the day. On this very couch he would have kissed her lips senselessly, beside that drawer she would have pushed him away after a hot making out session perhaps on that dining table. Asher kept making scenarios in his mind gazing at every corner of the apartment. The thought of Her moaning his name, and crying for his touch on her made him gulp hard. He hated his mind for not listing to him and showing him the image of her being fucked by him which was purely a creepy tho

“You, what’s your comfort food.” “Aside from coffee?” he said and smiled. “I like spicy food, not just spicy but really hot.” And she immediately connected it to something that almost raised one of her eyebrows: spicy foods were known to be an aphrodisiac. So was it one of the reasons he liked sex so much? Then, she remembered her dream where he was sexually molesting her and she felt her face heating up like somebody, or Soren himself, had rubbed a Carolina Reaper on both her cheeks.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, she took a deep breath, attempting to calm the racing thoughts that had been spiralling in her head. She couldn't help but run through countless scenarios and possible outcomes regarding her confession to Reid. Her mind churned from one extreme to the other, each scenario more dramatic than the last. She imagined the best-case scenario: Reid smiling warmly, admitting he had feelings for her, and they shared a magical first kiss. Then she pictured the worst-case scenario: Reid responding with cold indifference or harsh rejection, and her evening turning into a nightmare.

Amayra raised her fist up and started concocting her cooking again. 30 minutes have passed, the second spaghetti has been successfully made. Amayra inhaled the scent and at that moment she choked when the smell of chili peppers was so strong in her nose. Actually, this is just trying to make spaghetti with a spicy taste. And sure enough, when Amayra tried it, the girl coughed heavily because it was too spicy and even felt like her lips were burning. Oh the danger if Inder eats it, her husband can get a stomachache and go in and out of the bathroom.