Written Sex Fantasy Novels & Stories

He smacked her again and shook his head. “So now I have this fantasy where we have fast and furious sex. Then I savor you for…..okay maybe an hour. And then we have fast, furious sex again. Then you get on top and have your wicked way with me. And then you get on your hands and knees…..” Wendy put her hand over his mouth and burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, I get the picture. You’re an insatiable, horny male.” She said “Only for you,” he said seriously. “You seem to regularly star in my most-vivid fantasies. I could probably be arrested for some of them. They might not be legal in all states.”

My fingers hit the keys, the words pouring out like blood, a fantasy so vivid my clit pulses with every sentence. I write: "The office smells of old books and polished wood, the university halls empty, the air thick with his scent—leather, musk, control. I’m in a tight skirt, no panties, my pussy slick as I step inside, the door left ajar. He’s behind his desk, a professor with eyes that strip me bare, his voice a low growl ordering me to lock the door. But I don’t. The risk of someone walking in makes my nipples harden, my cunt dripping down my thighs." My breath catches, my fingers trembling as I type. My own pussy mirrors the words, wet and aching, and I shift, the chair creaking under me

With the door to talking about sex cracked open, she added, "I enjoy a good sexual fantasy as much as the next woman, I guess. Which genres of stories do you like most?" "Normally it would be the hot-wife stories," Cheryl answered, "But I was reading a really hot incest/taboo story there the other day where the characters happened to be named Darlene, James, and Shannon." She looked Darlene in her surprised eyes and with a suggestive grin she added, "It's hard for me to imagine that's just coincidence. Did you write that story? Is that your taboo fantasy I was reading?" Darlene was a bit taken aback by her friend's blunt question, but her tone and the look on her face were certainly not judg

“Better than those dirty stories you write in your diary?” I winked at her and saw the coldness in her countenance. “I only write, I have never really experienced them.” “What do you write about then? Your fantasies?” “Even better…I write about how I fanstasize other people having sex.” I was dumbfounded. “Oh my goodness, that is the horniest thing I have ever heard.”

Like the woman I imagined he wanted. Back in my room, I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled up p**n on my phone, headphones in. The video showed a dominant older man devouring a younger woman. I spread my legs, fingers sliding under the lace to plunge inside myself. Two fingers, then three, thrusting in time with the moans in my ears. I imagined Mason’s voice in my head — *Good girl. Take it for Daddy.* My hips rocked, breasts heaving, the fantasy consuming me. The door clicked shut.

Lean in close, let the tension coil, and prepare to be thoroughly, unapologetically undone. Are you ready to give in to your most illicit desires? *********** Story Titles 365 Nights of Sin Professor beg for cock Double Life, Double Penetration Used by the Boss Stuffed & Stretched: An Asshole Made for His Pleasure Drowning in Raw Desire: A Gangbang at the Penthouse The Gauntlet: One Woman, Five Cocks, No Mercy Total Objectification: The Pussy That Never Says No Gagged & Taken: The Reality of Her Dirty Fantasies Deep Throat Devotion

I searched the internet for help on how to read myself of the curse. The truth found me. I was hungry…not for sex with a man but a specific fantasy that involved three men. I touched myself to videos that played my fantasy, let my mind get creative. It wasn’t until days ago that I found a place in my city. Turns out for a good price, you can live out your fantasies. And now, I was a free woman…ready to walk down the aisle without feeling like a horny wreck. “All done.” the stylist announced. I glanced at my reflection on the vanity mirror..

I flipped to another page, my fingers shaking so badly I almost tore the paper. Entry #63: She fell asleep on the couch last night. I stood in the doorway for twelve minutes just watching her. Her legs were slightly apart, and I could see the curve of her thighs, the way her shorts had ridden up. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to slide my hand between her legs and feel if she was wet. I wanted to taste her. I wanted to mark her. I wanted to make her mine. I turned another page. And another. The fantasies grew more elaborate. More explicit. He wrote about tying me to the workbench, about using his collection on me. He wrote about my mouth, my breasts, my cunt. He wrote about the sounds I wou

I had written this. I had written this exact moment in chapter after chapter—Grey Writes had described the sudden, uncontrollable throb, the rush of slick heat, the way a woman’s body betrayed her before her mind could catch up. I’d typed scene after filthy scene about a submissive girl standing perfectly still while a dominant man circled her and spoke low in her ear, and my readers had left comments telling me it felt so real they were ruined for real life. I had been writing from imagination. Until right now.

Seraphina “Uhmm…” I moaned as I slowly rubbed my clit with my fingers. Raphael’s picture in hand. Damn…already so wet from just thinking about his huge, strong and veiny hands doing things to my body. My pussy throbbed even harder, till I slid two fingers inside them and started finger fucking myself.