Beyond Fantasies Vol 1

Beyond Fantasies

Vol 1

Igor Pajic

Taboo Dreams

Copyright © 2024 Svetlana Mega

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.


Cover design by: Taboo Dreams
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America

Introduction

Prologue

In the hidden chambers of our minds, where reality blurs and imagination reigns, lies a realm of boundless possibilities: the world of fantasy. Here, the ordinary fades away, giving way to vibrant landscapes where every desire can take flight. Fantasies are more than mere daydreams; they are powerful manifestations of our deepest longings, crafted from the fabric of our innermost thoughts.

Among these fantasies, sexual dreams shimmer with an exquisite intensity. They invite us to explore the uncharted territories of passion and intimacy—places where we can indulge in our desires without fear or judgment. In this sacred space, pleasure knows no bounds, and our wildest imaginations can roam free, painting vivid pictures of ecstasy and adventure.

Yet, as seductive as these fantasies may be, they remain delicate and ephemeral. They flourish in the shadows, where the constraints of the world cannot intrude. The moment we attempt to grasp them, to pull them into the harsh light of reality, we risk losing their magic forever. What was once a thrilling escape can quickly become a source of disappointment and disillusionment.

This book invites you to journey through the enchanting events of sexual fantasies, celebrating its richness and complexity. As you turn these pages, remember that while fantasies can ignite our spirits and awaken our desires, perhaps their true power lies in their ability to remain just out of reach—beautiful, elusive, and forever untouched by the weight of reality. Cherish them for what they are: the shimmering reflections of our souls, best left to dance in the twilight.

Maya

Ian sat at his desk, staring at the computer screen, his eyes glazed over from hours of playing games. His skin was pale, almost translucent from the lack of sunlight, and his black hair fell over his eyes. He was lost in a world of pixels and virtual battles, oblivious to the time ticking by outside. His room was a mess, with dirty laundry piled high and empty soda cans scattered across the floor. The only thing that could pull him away from his digital sanctuary was the sound of a car door slamming shut.

Maya, his sister's best friend, had arrived. The house grew alive with the sound of her laughter, the sweet scent of her perfume wafting through the hallways. Ian felt his heart quicken at the thought of her. For as long as he could remember, he'd had feelings for Maya. At 23, she was a goddess to his 18-year-old eyes—blonde, busty, and with a butt that could make a saint sin. Every other weekend, she would come to visit, bringing with her a whirlwind of energy and life that his quiet house desperately needed.

Ian and his sister shared a room, a quirky arrangement that had started when they were kids. It had been awkward at first, but Ian had grown used to it over the years. His sister had always been the loud, outgoing one, while he was content in the background, a silent observer. But with Maya around, the room felt smaller, more intimate, and the tension grew thicker with every visit. He could see her now, through the crack in his door, her curves outlined by the tight yoga pants she liked to wear, bending over to unpack her suitcase. His eyes lingered on the arch of her back, his thoughts wandering to places they shouldn't.

This weekend was different, though. Ian's body felt like it had been hit by a truck—his head was pounding, and his throat was on fire. He'd caught the flu, and the doctor had ordered him to stay in bed. The timing couldn't have been worse. Maya's visits were the highlight of his otherwise mundane life, and now he was stuck in his room, unable to even be a part of the conversations downstairs. His sister, Rachel, had taken pity on him and had told Maya about his condition.

Maya, ever the kind soul, had offered to keep him company. She waltzed into his room with a gentle smile, her blonde hair tied up in a loose ponytail that made her look even more angelic than usual. "Hey, Ian," she said softly, her voice a sweet symphony to his feverish ears. "Feeling any better?"

He looked up from his computer, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. "Not really," he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

Maya's smile didn't waver as she approached him, her eyes filled with concern. "Well, I'm here to help," she said, setting a steaming mug of tea on his nightstand. "How about we play some games together?" She sat on the bed, her generous thighs pressing against his, sending a jolt of something through his fever-addled brain. He nodded gratefully, his hands trembling as he handed her a controller.

They played in companionable silence, the only sounds the beeps and boops of the video game and the occasional cough from Ian. Maya was surprisingly good, her eyes focused and her thumbs flying over the buttons. Every so often, she would glance over at him, her eyes soft with care. Ian felt himself relaxing into her presence, his body warming not just from the fever but from the gentle heat she emanated.

As the evening wore on, Rachel popped in to check on them. "You guys need anything?" she asked, her eyes flicking between Ian and Maya.

"Nah, we're good," Ian replied, trying to keep his voice steady as Maya's hand accidentally brushed his thigh. Rachel nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips, before she disappeared downstairs to get ready for a night out. The anticipation of her impending absence filled the air, charged with a silent electricity that Ian hadn't noticed before.

Maya set down her controller, her gaze lingering on him. "You really don't look good, Ian. Maybe you should rest?"

He nodded, feeling a sudden exhaustion wash over him. "Yeah, I think I will."

Maya stood up, her breasts bouncing slightly under her snug t-shirt. Ian's eyes followed her out of the room, his gaze lingering on the sway of her hips. Once the door clicked shut behind her, he let out a sigh. Being around Maya was always a mix of agony and ecstasy. Her beauty was like a siren's call, drawing him in despite the turmoil it caused. He leaned back into his pillow, his hand unconsciously drifting to the bulge in his pants. He knew he shouldn't, but the thought of her so close, so out of reach, was too much. He closed his eyes and let his imagination run wild.

The room was quiet now, the only sound his own shallow breathing. He could hear the muffled noise of Rachel and Maya downstairs, their laughter and chatter a distant reminder of the world outside his feverish cocoon. His hand found its way under the waistband of his boxers, ghosting over his hardening cock. He'd never had a chance like this before—Maya in the house, His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse echoing in his ears like a drum.

Before he noticed, he had fallen asleep, the weight of his fever dragging him under. His dreams were a whirlwind of sensual images—Maya's soft touch, her sweet scent, and the way her hair fell over her face when she leaned in close. He dreamed of her breasts, the way they filled his hands, and her butt, so round and firm, bouncing as she moved above him. His body reacted to the fantasy, his cock growing hard and demanding in his grasp. He moaned her name, the sound barely a whisper in his sleep.

When he woke, the room was dark except for the glow of the moon streaming through the open window. He was disoriented, his body sticky with sweat and his hand still wrapped around himself. The house was quiet now, the only sound the distant hum of the fridge. He glanced at the clock, surprised to find it was almost midnight. Rachel had probably been out for hours. He took a sip of the now lukewarm tea Maya had brought, the minty flavor barely registering on his swollen tongue.

The sudden creak of the floorboards sent a shiver down his spine. He held his breath, his heart racing as the door to his room opened a crack. The silhouette of a figure slipped in, the light from the hall casting a soft glow on her curves. It was Maya, dressed in one of Rachel's oversized t-shirts that barely covered her thighs.

He pretended to be asleep, his eyes barely slitted as he watched her tiptoe over to the bed. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and the faint scent of alcohol mixed with her perfume filled the air. Rachel's laughter grew louder from the stairs, and Ian could hear the clank of their shoes as they stumbled closer.

The door opened wider, and Rachel appeared in the doorway, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with inebriation. She giggled, leaning heavily against the frame. "Maya, come on," she slurred, "I need your help. I can't get my dress off."

Maya rolled her eyes good-naturedly and moved to help her friend. Ian's eyes widened, his breathing shallow as he took in the sight of Maya's bare legs, the shirt riding up slightly to reveal the curve of her lower back. Rachel stepped closer, and Ian could see that she was already out of her dress, wearing nothing but a black lace bra and thong. The sight was almost too much for him to bear, his hand tightening around his cock as he feigned sleep.

"Oh, come on, Rach," Maya said with a laugh, "you're such a lightweight." She stepped closer to the bed, her hand brushing against Ian's arm as she reached for Rachel's dress. Rachel stumbled, and Maya had to catch her, their bodies pressing together for a moment. Ian's eyes were glued to the way Rachel's breasts pushed against the delicate fabric of her bra, her nipples hard and visible in the moonlight. Rachel giggled and leaned into Maya, their hips brushing together.

Maya managed to get Rachel's arms through the dress and helped her slip it off, revealing her bare back. Rachel's skin was flushed from the alcohol and the exertion, and Ian could see the goosebumps rising on her arms. "Thanks, May," Rachel said with a yawn, her voice thick with sleep. "Let's go to bed. I'm beat."

The two women went to bed their laughter fading into the night. Ian's eyes followed them hungrily, his mind racing with thoughts of what could happen next. He knew he should be ashamed, but his fever-induced haze only made the desire stronger. He waited, his body tense with anticipation, until he heard they both fell asleep.

The house grew quieter, the only sound the occasional muffle of Rachel and Maya's whispers as they settled in for the night. Ian's hand found its way back to his cock, the images from his dream and the real-life glimpse of Maya's bare legs still fresh in his mind. He began to stroke himself slowly, savoring the feeling of his palm against his sensitive skin. His thoughts grew more vivid, imagining Maya's soft hands replacing his own, her gentle touch bringing him to the edge of ecstasy.

With Rachel asleep, he knew the risk was minimal. He couldn't resist the urge to get closer to Maya, to inhale her scent and feel her warmth. He slid out of bed, his legs shaky from his illness but fueled by desire. He tiptoed across the room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. The room was illuminated by a sliver of moonlight, casting long shadows across the floor. Rachel's and Maya sleeping heavily.

He approached Maya's side of the bed, his heart hammering in his chest. He reached out, his fingertips trembling as they hovered just above her skin. Her skin was so soft, so inviting. He needed to feel her, to touch her, to fill himself with the essence of her being. He traced a line down her bare arm, his touch feather-light, watching as goosebumps erupted in the wake of his fingertips. He leaned closer, his breath hot on her neck as he took in her scent—a heady mix of coconut shampoo and a hint of whiskey from their night out.

Ian felt his cock throb against his thigh, begging for release. He knew he should stop, knew it was wrong, but he couldn't. His desire was too strong, too overwhelming. He slid his hand under the hem of her t-shirt, feeling the smooth expanse of Maya's stomach. She stirred slightly, a sigh escaping her lips, and he froze, his hand hovering above the waistband of her panties. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry with anticipation.

With the barest of touches, he brushed his fingertips against the fabric that separated him from her warmth. The lace was delicate, and he could feel the heat of her skin through it. His hand trembled, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he allowed his fingers to trace the line of her panties, feeling the slight indentation where her mound began. His breath hitched as he realized just how wet she was. The realization sent a jolt of pure lust through his body, and he couldn't help but press harder, his thumb grazing the soft mound of her clit.

Maya's breathing hitched, and she stirred in her sleep. Ian's heart stopped for a beat, but she didn't wake. He took it as a sign to continue, his hand moving under the waistband of her panties. He found her folds, hot and slick, and parted them gently. She was already so wet, so ready for him. He couldn't believe it—his fantasy was playing out in real life, and she was unknowingly inviting him in. He slid his thumb in slow, tight circles around her clit, feeling it swell beneath his touch. Her hips began to rock slightly, her breathing growing heavier.

Ian knew he had to be quiet, that any noise could wake Rachel, but the need to release the tension in his own body was too much. He stepped back, his hand slipping from Maya's panties. He stumbled back to his bed, his cock throbbing painfully. He pulled off his boxers, his cock springing free, standing tall and demanding. He took a moment to admire the sight—his hand wrapped around it, stroking it slowly. The images of Maya's bare skin and Rachel's lace underwear danced in his head, fueling his desire.

He sat on the edge of his bed, his hand working his shaft in long, slow strokes. His eyes drifted closed, and he could almost feel Maya's soft hand replacing his own, her gentle touch sending waves of pleasure through his body. He bit his lip, stifling a moan as he imagined her mouth on him, her tongue swirling around the tip of his cock, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin. He picked up his pace, the friction building, his hand a blur in the moonlit room. The feverish haze had only amplified his desperation, making the need to come more intense.

With each stroke, he grew closer to the edge, his breath hitching in his chest. The room spun around him, a mix of desire and illness, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the warm, wet heat between his legs and the image of Maya, sprawled out before him, begging for his touch. His hand grew slick with pre-cum, making each stroke more satisfying than the last. The tension in his body grew taut, a coil of need tightening in his stomach. He was so close, so very close.

He stifled a groan as he felt his climax approaching, the pressure building in his balls. He squeezed his eyes shut, his teeth clenched, and then—release. Warm, sticky ropes of cum shot from him, arcing through the air before landing on his stomach and thighs. His hand continued to work his cock, milking every last drop from him, as his body convulsed with the force of his orgasm. For a moment, he forgot about his fever, lost in the sweet oblivion of pleasure.

As his breathing slowed, reality crashed back down around him. What had he done? He'd taken advantage of Maya while she was asleep and vulnerable. He felt a mix of guilt and excitement, the lines between right and wrong blurring in the aftermath of his actions. He glanced over at Rachel's bed, the darkness obscuring her form. He hoped she hadn't woken up, hadn't seen what he'd done.

He cleaned himself up as quickly and quietly as possible, his mind racing with what-ifs. What if Maya found out? What if Rachel had seen? He didn't want to ruin the friendship they had, but the need had been too much. He slid back into his bed, his heart still pounding in his chest. He needed to sleep, to clear his head and decide what to do when the morning came.

Exhaustion pulled at him like a heavy blanket, the fever making his eyelids heavy. He drifted off into a fitful sleep, plagued by erotic dreams of Maya's touch. In his dreams, she was fully aware of what was happening, her eyes bright with passion as she guided him, her voice a seductive whisper in his ear. Her skin was warm, her breath hot against his neck as she urged him on. He could feel her breasts pressing into his back, her hand guiding his own as he brought her to climax after climax.

Maya's soft snores filled the room, a gentle rhythm that soothed him despite his racing thoughts. He slept all through the night, finally succumbing to the fever's embrace, and didn't wake until the sun was high in the sky. The room was bathed in the warm glow of midday, the curtains thrown open to let the light in. Rachel was gone, her bed rumpled and empty. A sliver of hope grew in his chest—maybe she hadn't noticed his nocturnal dids

Ian felt a bit better today. The fever had broken, leaving him with a dry mouth and a slight headache, but his body didn't ache as much. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the coolness of the floor against his bare feet grounding him in reality. The events of last night played in his mind like a dirty movie reel—his hand on Maya's body, her unconscious response. It was wrong, but it was also the most alive he had felt in months. He couldn't stop his heart from racing every time he thought about it.

The smell of pancakes and bacon wafted up the stairs, and he knew Rachel was up cooking breakfast. He took a deep breath and tried to push his thoughts aside. He needed to get out of bed, face the day, and maybe, just maybe, pretend like nothing had happened. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, tucking his still-hard cock into the waistband. He couldn't get Maya out of his head—the way her skin felt under his hand, the sweet taste of her on his fingertips. It was like a drug, a forbidden fruit that he hadn't been able to resist.