Romans & histoires The Wild Dog Dreams Of Devouring

Adrian had been roommates with James for months and every night, his mind wandered to filthy thoughts of that thick cock sliding deep into his ass. He imagined James pinning him down, spreading his cheeks wide and pounding relentlessly until he filled him with hot cum. The fantasy consumed him, making his own cock throb whenever James walked around shirtless or fresh from a shower.

The last thing I remember is Clint's arms tightening around me as I drift off, his heartbeat steady against my ear. I dream of running through moonlit forests, my white fur gleaming silver, a dark wolf keeping pace beside me. In the dream, we're free from rogues and pack politics, just two wolves claiming the night as their own. It's the most peaceful I've felt since this whole supernatural journey began.

She stared at Ma Erene, at the eyes that saw through masks and names, and then… just like that, she nodded. That night, the wind howled like something feral had been let loose. Zara curled in her corner of her dark quarters, the sour blanket barely offering warmth, her fingers twitching as sleep dragged her under. But it wasn’t restful. She dreamt of dozens of wolves. They circled her in a clearing of ash and bone, their eyes glowing silver and blue and gold, none of them resembling the Alpha who haunted her waking thoughts. These wolves were wild, mangled, and beautiful in their defiance. And not a single one approached her.

I interjected, "That fire seven years ago was brutal, wasn't it? Saving him must've been strenuous. Any scars?" She rolled up her sleeve, revealing a faint mark on her arm. "Yeah, it left this. Not exactly pretty, but Damian means everything to me. I'd run through fire for him again in a heartbeat." I was stunned by her audacity. She'd go so far as to flaunt a fake scar to uphold her lie. "That blaze killed many people," I pressed. "You were just a middle-school kid, small and frail. How did you manage to drag him out of those flames?"

“Why does he care so much.. he visits her everyday” “She is just a slave…” “But have you seen his face… he looks worried…” Each night, Damian sat silently beside her bed wishing for the smallest twitch. Hope refused to leave her side either. ——— While watching Laura, nature took its cause and Hope fell asleep. She had the same dream she has been having ever since she regained consciousness. In the dream… She would see wolves and other weird looking creatures. Taller than trees and some crawling like insects tearing through the forest and peoples homes.

she said patiently. I took a deep breath to steady my voice. “I dreamed of a wolf last night. Huge and grey with blue eyes. It pursued me relentlessly, but calmly… it was unnerving. Just as it was about to attack me, I was saved by another wolf… one that I knew.” “One that you knew? But you did not know the wolf who attacked you,” she said thoughtfully. “Dreams are not always literal. It could be that the one who chased you was not a person at all.”

If yes, then how was it happening? “The dreams I had were war,” “War?” She gripped my hands, eyes shut tight. “You have to listen, and listen carefully because I don’t know how much I’ll remember if I let it go.” “I’m listening.” “I dreamed of war, a grueling war that we have never faced before. The pack is on fire and it starts from the pack house. In the dream there’s blood. Blood from powerful wolves; the house is divided. One man against 5 and he’s winning.”

His mouth found my neck, my shoulder, my breasts, leaving a trail of bites and kisses that would mark me for days. "Look at me," he commanded. I forced my eyes open. His face was flushed, his jaw tight, his dark hair falling across his forehead. He looked wild. Unhinged. Perfect. "I want to watch you come apart on my cock," he said, his voice ragged. "I want to feel you squeeze me while you scream my name." I was already close again. Too close. The pressure in my core was building faster than I could control, and he seemed to know it. His hand slid between our bodies, his thumb finding my clit, rubbing in tight circles that matched the rhythm of his hips.

"One last one for the road. She shattered under his touch, a quick, sharp orgasm rippling through her, pussy clenching on nothing, juices slicking his fingers. Jax grinned, feral and satisfied, bringing them to his mouth for a final taste. SLUT SQUAD!! If you are reading this, you're pronounced "Dirty Slut Seeker" part of the Dirty Slut Seekers! We all have fantasies don't we? Bet your cock's throbbing, or your pussy's soaked right now, panties shoved aside as you read every single filthy fuck dream. Did you edge or cum untouched, or touch yourself? Drop your own fantasies here, readers. Tell me in the comments: What would you do if you were Zelda right now? Beg for more? Spill your dirtiest

Gareth searched it with a grunt before letting him pass. “The music’s gone sharp,” Ethan said without preamble, sinking onto the plush rug in her sitting area. He didn’t touch his guitar. “All treble and snarl. No rhythm. It’s the sound of a trap being sprung.” He told her what the town was saying reports of massive, feral dog sightings, of livestock torn apart with unnatural savagery on outlying farms. The Red Hand was painting a picture of mindless beastiality, softening the human world for the true horror to come.