1 comments/ 41726 views/ 0 favorites Take Me Home By: Lady Jayne I am out at a dance club with some girlfriends. My friends and I get together once a month. I've danced with several men tonight but nothing serious. Unlike my friends, I'm not trolling for men tonight. I'm involved with the most wonderful man whom I love and who loves me in return. Not to mention the sex is unbelievable! On one of my trips to the ladies' room, I pull my cell phone from my purse and dial your number. "Hello?" you say, sounding as though I've just woken you. "Guess who?" I say seductively. "Did I wake you?" "I fell asleep watching the game," you answer. "You okay?" "I'm fine," I answer. "Actually, I want to go home and none of the girls are ready to leave yet." "Why didn't you drive?" you ask. "My car's in the shop, remember?" I answer. "You dropped me at work this morning." "I did?" I know that you remember taking me to work but I decide to play along with you. Lowering my voice, I say, "Remember, you had your hand in my pants for most of the drive, fucking me hard with your fingers?" Warmth floods my belly as I recall cumming hard several times on the way to work. My panties are becoming damp as I remember wearing my panties at work, knowing they had my juices on them and how they'd gotten that way in the first place. "Oh, that's right," you tell me. "Seems to me that after you came for about the third or fourth time, you reached across the seat and freed my hard cock from my pants before using that very talented mouth of yours." "Yes," I say, as the memory floods my brain. I leaned over and took the head of your cock into my mouth, running my tongue up and down the length of you before consuming your entire length. I sucked and licked you as you pushed your cock deeper into my mouth, fucking my mouth until you came. My pussy is aching. Spreading my legs, I lift my skirt and slide my hand into my panties. I start to stroke my wet pussy. I moan into the phone as I rub my swollen clit. "Sounds like you're all worked up," you chuckle. "Please come and get me," I say. "I need to be with you." I continue to stroke myself. "I want you to do me a favour," you say, lowering your voice. "What?" I ask. I am so horny right now. "Put two fingers inside your hole and fuck yourself like I do," you say. I insert two fingers into my wet puss and begin to move them in and out. I moan softly as my fingers slide in and out, making a quiet slurping sound as they do. "Are you fucking yourself?" "Yes," I answer. "I wish it were you that was fucking me right now though." "Close your eyes," you instruct. I do. "Now, listen to me. Imagine me right there beside you. My fingers are plunging in and out of your pussy. Pulling out completely and thrusting back in hard." I pull my fingers out completely and plunging them back in, gasping at the sensation. "Mmmmm," I moan as I begin to finger myself harder and faster. "I've removed my fingers and now I'm pounding your mound from behind with my rock hard cock," you tell me. "I've pulled the lid of the toilet seat down and bent you forward over it. You're holding onto the bar behind the toilet as I fuck you hard. Faster, harder while you grind your hips against me. Listen to our gasps and the sound of my tight balls against your fine ass. Stroking your clit. Rubbing it. Circling it. Pulling you against me to thrust deeper into your love box. I am merciless as I fuck you. We both know you're going to be sore and probably a little bruised tomorrow from my vigorous assault. You beg me not to stop." I begin to circle my clit with my thumb as I get closer to cumming. My breath is coming in gasps now. You're breathing heavy on your end of the phone and I know you're stroking yourself, pretending it is my hand sliding up and down your hard length. "Don't stop," I say hoarsely. "Please, don't stop. Make me cum." "You beg me not to stop as I drill your mound. You stroke your clit as you get closer. I grab your breasts and squeeze them, pinching your nipples." "Oh God!" I cry as my orgasm begins to wash over me. "Cum for me," you say. I can tell you're close to cumming too. "I want your juices all over my cock, running down your delicious thighs after I pull out." I explode around my fingers. "I thrust one more time, burying myself as deep as I can as I shoot my load deep into you," you say. I hear you groan and I know that you're cumming too. I slip my fingers out of my panties and wipe my hand on some toilet paper. "God, you make me so hot. Give me 20 minutes and I'll come get you." I straighten my clothes before leaving the stall. "Thanks," I say. I click off the phone, wash my hands and rejoin my friends. Twenty minutes later, you appear at the table. I bid my friends good night and we head out to the parking lot. Your pick-up truck is sitting in the parking lot under a broken light. You back me against the passenger door and kiss me hard. Your hand slips beneath my skirt and find my panties are damp. I cup your through your pants and it doesn't take long before you're fully hard again. You break the kiss and lead me to the back of your truck. We climb onto the bed of the truck. I remove my panties as I get onto my hands and knees, raising my ass in the air. I look over my shoulder and see you pushing your pants and briefs down. "Take me," I tell you, wiggling my ass. You roughly grab my hips, digging your fingers into my flesh as you plunge your hard cock into me almost violently. I squeal as you begin to fuck me. You fuck me like I've never been fucked before. "How do you like that, you little whore?" you ask as withdraw completely. "Fuck me harder," I say as you rub my slit with your cock. You plunge inside again and I scream. You thrust a couple of times before withdrawing again. "I can't hear you, bitch," you say, teasing my pussy with the head of your cock. "FUCK ME HARDER," I all but shout. You plunge into me again, removing your cock after a few short thrusts. "I still can't hear you, you slut," you taunt, removing yourself again. "GIVE ME YOUR HARD COCK!" I shout. You thrust into me and stay perfectly still. "FUCK ME!" You begin to thrust, long teasing strokes. "FUCK ME HARDER, YOU SON OF A BITCH! POUND MY PUSSY WITH THAT HARD PRICK OF YOURS!" "Like this?" you ask as you start to thrust harder and faster. "HARDER!" I shout. "FASTER! DON'T BE SUCH A WIMP! GIVE ME ALL YOU'VE GOT, YOU BASTARD! FILL MY WET PUSSY WITH YOUR COCK! GIVE ME THE HARD, PUNISHING FUCK WE BOTH KNOW I DESERVE!" You pull out and ram your cock deep inside me. I cry out in ecstasy as you pound my pussy. You grab my hips and pull me against you. Your balls slap against my ass. I slide a hand between my legs and stroke my clit. You grab a fistful of my hair and pull it hard. My body begins to tense and I know I'm seconds away from the most explosive orgasm I've ever had. I scream as I cum hard. You thrust harder and deeper one more time before tensing and filling my body with your hot cum. The silence of the night air is pierced by the sounds of our release. My body clenches around your cock, milking every last drop from you. I collapse onto my tummy, exhausted. You collapse on top of me and kiss the back of my neck before rolling off of me. You quickly pull up your briefs and pants as we hear voices coming from the club. You put my panties in your pocket as you gently pull my skirt down. You jump out of the back of the truck. I try to stand but I'm too weak from our fucking and I'm a wee bit sore from the pounding my pussy took. "Oh man, I hurt you," you say, gently lifting me from the back of the truck. "I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell me to stop?" "Don't apologize," I say, touching your cheek before kissing you softly. "I'm not complaining. I didn't want you to stop." You carry me to the passenger side and place me on the seat. "What can I do to make you feel better?" you ask. I can see that you're feeling a bit guilty over what happened. "Take me home," I say. You close my door and walk around the truck. After climbing into the driver's seat, you start the truck and we head home. "When we get home, you can draw me a warm bath and help me get washed." Once at home you do just that. After gently and lovingly washing my tender pussy, you lift me out of the tub and gently dry me off. You carry me to the bed, where you place me with such tenderness. You strip out of your clothes and join me beneath the sheets. You wrap your arms around me and pull me close. We fall asleep holding each other tight. Take Me Home, Country Roads Just a little fresh air, just a little sunshine, and maybe just a little... He loved being out on the trails on his bike. The fresh air and sunshine rejuvenated him, and the quiet solitude relieved him of the stresses of everyday living. It was a cathartic experience. Today was no different. This was one of his favorite areas for trail riding since it was not a heavily publicized spot and a bit difficult to find, so he was alone with his thoughts and enjoying every minute. The ride wasn't terribly challenging, but he still had to pay attention to his route to avoid an accident. He wasn't a young man - he was approaching 56 - and didn't relish the idea of a broken bone at his age. People had left their marks on the area, but those marks were respectful of nature and what the area represented to hikers, bikers, and equestrians. He was riding past a small, shaded clearing in which someone had erected a small bench out of the loose, flat stones that were found throughout the area. It resembled the kind of place one would use for meditation. No houses, no road, no cars - isolated and pretty, it was perfect. Expecting to be alone, he was surprised when he heard her voice call out in greeting. "Well, hello." He stopped his bike and turned his head. The first thing he noticed was her red hair. He had this thing about red-haired women; something about auburn hair really turned him on. Hers was just below shoulder length and flowed around her face and over her collar. Next he saw her glasses - specs always made a woman look smart, and her eyes sparkled with intelligence behind the lenses. A pretty face was graced by an open smile that revealed even, white teeth. She was looking straight at him from the bench. "And hello to you," he replied. "Are you enjoying this little bit of paradise?" he replied, dismounting and propping his bike against a tree. Removing his helmet and grabbing his water bottle, he drank deeply. "Very much," she said. "I didn't even know this place was here until today." His eyes hidden by his dark shades, he took all of her in - mid to late forties, he guessed, and taller than most women. She was in pretty good shape for someone her ag, and he couldn't help but notice that the top two buttons of her shirt were undone, accentuating the swell of her larger-than-average breasts. The next closed button was actually below them. She didn't seem to care. "Mind if I join you?" he asked. "Please do," she answered pleasantly as he sat at the other end of the bench. The whole situation seemed strange - a woman by herself, far from any habitation, encountering a man she didn't know, would normally have been frightened. But she didn't exhibit any fear; indeed, she was open, friendly, and talkative. Within minutes they knew all about each other - occupations, families, likes and dislikes, favorite places and foods. She laughed easily and smiled a lot, even occasionally touching his arm to emphasize a point. He was glad for the shades since they hid his eyes, and the swell of her breasts in the opening of her shirt was distracting. But she obviously wanted the conversation to continue, picking up the slack when it lagged. They talked like old friends catching up on years of news, or perhaps like a couple meeting on an arranged first date. Her name was Tammy, and she was a lab tech at a local hospital. Long divorced and the single mother of a twenty-year-old, she had developed some serious survival skills and was a good judge of people. The logical part of her brain was telling her to be careful, but the emotional side was insisting that this was a good person next to her. She went with her gut instinct. "I just have to get away from it all sometimes, just leave the rest of the world behind and lose myself in nature," she continued. "Well, there's no place better than this," he opined. "I come here for the very same reasons you do." "So, do you come here often?" she asked, and they both laughed at the words of the lamest pick-up line in the book. "Actually, yes, I come here as often as I can," he said. "I actually feel a bit possessive about it, but I'll gladly share it with you." "Awww..." she replied. Luxuriating in the perfect weather, she leaned far back as if to take in the sun, arching her back and thrusting her breasts even more against the barely-fastened fabric of her shirt and pulling the placket farther apart. He could see that she wasn't wearing a bra and inadvertently let out a quick gasp. "Are you all right?" she asked, turning to face him as he quickly looked away. "Uh, yeah," he replied. "I'm fine," he choked out. Alone in the woods with a pretty red-haired woman showing me her big tits, so yeah, I'm okay, he thought. Sensing the effect she was having on him, she continued. "I didn't think anyone else was here," she said, "and I was about to do something I had never done, just as you came along." He turned back to face her. "You almost got quite the show." She smiled again. Uncharacteristically at a loss for words but sensing an opportunity, he answered, "Really, now. My loss, I guess." He was quite tongue tied and it showed. She sensed his momentary turmoil and exploited it. "Come on, it's not like it's something you haven't seen before," came her coy reply. Regaining his composure, he said, "Of course not. But then, I don't often encounter a woman as beautiful as you in the forest au naturel." Her shirt had stayed parted as she sat upright again, exposing most of each breast. He couldn't keep his eyes off them; they were about perfect. As much as he loved the sight of great tits, he liked getting there gradually, watching them slowly present to the world. This was exciting and he felt himself begin to harden down below. "It's not like I'm naked or anything," she said with a smile. "We're just talking about it, wondering what it would be like." He figured it was now or never, so he jumped in with both feet and said, "Well then, don't let me keep you from finding out. I'm sure you're safe here, but I'll keep watch for you just in case." She was nothing if not direct. With her eyes locked on his, she finished unbuttoning her blouse and shrugged it off, bringing her delightful melons fully into view. Round and perfectly shaped, easily C-cups and pale but with beautiful roseate nipples, they were as nice a rack as he had ever seen. Those can't be real, he thought. No woman her age could possibly have such a perfect set. But then, who cares? He couldn't help but notice the tasteful butterfly tattoo on the top of her right breast. "Mygawd, you are truly gorgeous," he told her. With another slight smile, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, and slightly lifting her ass off the bench, slid them over her hips and down her legs, kicking them off when they reached her feet. Quick hands removed her shoes and socks and she laid back again, luxuriating in her naked splendor. A slight smile graced her face as he took in the sight of her. A classically gorgeous face was framed by dark auburn locks tumbling to her shoulders; her slender neck graced well-shaped shoulders and arms that were fit but not chiseled; her perfect breasts rose above a flat abdomen that in turn flowed into hips just wide enough to add a delicious curve at the waist. Unlike so many other women, she did not completely shave down below; a neatly trimmed pubic strip matched the auburn on her head. Her legs were fit from her frequent hikes. All in all, she was a startlingly beautiful example of what a middle aged woman could be. "Are you keeping watch for me?" she said teasingly, knowing that his eyes were glued to her body behind his dark lenses. "I wouldn't want just anyone to see me like this." He smiled in return. "Yeah, like I'd be able to turn away right now," he replied. She turned to lay herself out the length of the bench and propped her feet on his lap. She closed her eyes and said, "This feels as good as I thought it would. Everyone should do this." "Yes, everyone should," he answered, letting his hands come to rest on the smooth skin of her lower leg. His fingers slowly began to stroke up and down its length, from knee to toes. He could feel her leg muscles, firm and toned. Her feet were also well cared for and showing none of the wear one would expect on a woman this age. She obviously took care of herself from top to bottom. At one point his fingers dropped to the back of her calf and he squeezed gently on what was usually the sorest part of the muscle, and she responded by emitting a low moan of pleasure. "Oh damn, you're really good at that. Are you for hire?" she laughed. "Oh, this is my treat," he replied. "Just relax and enjoy it." He now used both hands to gently knead her calf muscles, first one leg then the other, moving slowly the length of each. He grasped each foot in turn and slowly rotated it at the ankle, then used his knowledge of human anatomy to give attention to each part of it, every muscle and tendon. A good foot and leg massage could be incredibly erotic, and this time was no exception. His hands again rose the length of her calf and shin, and when they reached almost to her knee she let her legs relax and part slightly, exposing her inner thighs and simultaneously bringing her pussy more fully into view. As his hands again traversed the length of her lower leg, she felt his hands stop at the knee and said, "No, don't stop there," rotating her legs outward even more. He leaned slightly toward her head and began massaging her thigh, his hands coming within an inch of her pussy. Like the rest of her, her legs were well muscled but not overly chiseled, with silky skin that told of regular care. Man, she is about as perfect a woman as I've ever seen, he thought. He crossed to her other thigh and continued his ministrations. Her eyes were closed and he could hear soft moans of pleasure escape her throat. His hands stopped moving and they sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality only a few minutes had passed. Her voice was husky when she spoke again. "Don't you think that turnabout is fair play?" she said, her hand reaching out and unzipping his cycling jersey. He let her finish that task, then grabbed the hem of the shirt and smoothly whipped it over his head. She ran her fingers over his chest and shoulders, impressed by how he had maintained his physical condition despite his age. "Wow," she said softly. "You're in good shape." "I may be old, but I'm not dead," he answered. "I like to exercise." He reached down to remove his cycling shoes and socks, then stood and quickly stripped off his cycling shorts. He briefly considered whether he wanted her to see him reaching such an aroused state so quickly, but decided that since this was not only about feeling the sun on their skin, his erect response was entirely in order. In any case, his physical response was something he couldn't control at this point. He joined her back on the bench, leaning back comfortably, his now fully erect shaft standing tall and proud. "Seriously?" she asked when she caught sight of his erection. "You are a rather randy fellow, aren't you?" He wasn't going to play any games with her; at their age he felt they were well beyond that. He answered, "I suppose, but someone who looks like you shouldn't be surprised, especially under these circumstances. Are you?" She considered his question and said, "Rather pleasantly, actually. It's nice to know I can still have that effect on men." He wanted direct eye contact and removed his sunglasses. "I imagine most heterosexual males would react the same way" he said, looking directly at her face. "You're extraordinary." "Thank you," she whispered, leaning toward him and planning a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. "You're a nice man." As if it was the most natural thing in the world, she swung her legs over his and straddled his lap facing him. Her arms encircled his neck and she planted another kiss on him, a longer, deeper one this time. His arms encircled her narrow waist and he could feel her marvelous breasts planted against his chest. Their tongues darted and explored, and his hands slowly caressed her firm, shapely ass and curvaceous hips, finally resting on the indents of her fabulous waist. Ohmigawd this woman is fantastic, he thought. I cannot believe this is happening. Their kisses had become deeper and longer, and a soft moan escaped her throat. Their bodies were pressed tightly together from shoulder to hip. Breaking their kiss momentarily, she lifted her weight slightly to reach underneath herself and grasp his shaft. She expertly guided it into her already wet pussy, and removing her hand lowered herself onto its full length with a contented sigh. Pulling his face tight between her fabulous globes, she began slowly rising and falling on him, one moment fully engulfing him and the next barely containing the tip of his cock. In his excited state he could feel the heat of her marvelous chamber around him, and the feeling of her breasts against his face was as stimulating as anything he had ever experienced. His hands found and cupped the soft, round cheeks of her ass and followed her up and down movements. Twenty minutes ago I was riding my bike, and now here I am fucking this goddess, he thought. "Perfect" is an understatement. They continued to move in rhythm, her rising and falling on his shaft while he followed her movements with his hands and his mouth took in the skin of her perfect tits. They couldn't get enough of each other and her arms pulled them tightly together. All good things must eventually end, and this was no exception. He could feel his balls starting to boil, a sure sign his orgasm was imminent. He felt her give a final thrust against him and hold herself tight, taking his shaft as deeply as she could as her orgasm washed over her. Moments later he reached his own final release, filling her with his juice as each spasm shook him. They remained in that position, bodies and lips locked, for several minutes as they caught their breath. Finally, she sat back slightly and looked deeply into his eyes. "I can't believe I just did that. I've never done that before." "Uh, I'm confused. Did what?" "Fucked somebody I just met, silly. I usually make them wait. You're my first." "I've been honored, then." "Yes, you have," she said with a giggle. "How long before you're ready again?" Take Me Home Tonight It was frankly the ugliest thing Janice had ever seen. Not that she really thought of herself as an appreciator of sculpture, but this really was grotesque. She caught sight of it while on a shopping expedition to help furnish her new apartment, squatting in the middle of a small display of pottery in a second-hand store and looking as if it was giving serious thought to breaking the other statues. Despite herself, she stopped to take a closer look. She'd never seen anything quite like it. It looked like some sort of gargoyle, a leering, demonic figure with a bulbous, corpulent body carved out of dark gray stone. It was just over a foot tall, although the statue was posed in a slouching, frog-like squat with its belly (thankfully?) hanging over its crotch. Its face was twisted into a knowing, lascivious grin, with eyes made out of some kind of glass or polished red stone that almost seemed to glow under the fluorescent lights. It had sprawling, gangly limbs that seemed too long for its body, enhancing its unnatural appearance. Its right hand rested on its knee, while its left hand was extended in a beckoning gesture. Incongruously, next to it someone had hand-written a sign that said, 'Take Me Home Tonight! Only $18.99!' Janice shuddered. She felt a little bad about doing it-someone had very clearly worked hard on this thing, getting definition on the ropy muscles of its arms, sanding the swollen belly down to make it look just right, working for hours to give the face that perfect contorted leer. All their hard work had wound up in a second-hand store, marked down to under twenty bucks, and even then people like her only gave it a second glance because it was eye-catchingly icky. Even so, she couldn't help herself. Every time she looked at it, she got the creeps all over again. With a final shiver of revulsion, she pulled her gaze away from the hideous little gargoyle and started to roll her shopping cart past it. As she drew level with it, though, she felt an absurd, superstitious urge to keep an eye on it as she walked past. Like she didn't want to turn her back on it. It was stupid, like that Facebook thing about the walking statues on that British show-the ones that could only move when you weren't watching-but all the same, she stared at it out of the corner of her eye all the way until she went around the corner. Then she watched the corner a bit longer. Janice wound up buying an old oak dressing table that was a steal at ninety dollars, and a handful of blackout candles (her new neighbors had warned her about the antiquated power grid in their apartment building, and she wanted to be prepared). She most emphatically did not take home the statue. ***** The rest of the day passed in that peculiar kind of exhausting boredom that comes from setting up a new place. Janice unpacked dishes and put them into cabinets, she shifted furniture around until her arms ached, she scraped her shin on door frames carrying boxes and she bruised her elbow assembling bed frames. By the end of the day, she was so hot and sweaty and exhausted that it didn't even matter to her that she couldn't figure out how to get the hot water going in the shower. She washed off the grime and sweat, toweled off her naked body, and collapsed onto her unmade bed without even putting on pajamas. She'd never been so tired in all her life, and all she could think about as her head hit the pillow was eight solid hours of deep sleep. Which is why the dream surprised her. It was intensely vivid, the kind of dream where you're convinced you've woken up out of a sound sleep in the middle of the night and the only thing that tips you off that it's a dream is that impossible things are happening. For Janice, the dream started when she opened her eyes, suddenly wide awake and awash with adrenaline, and saw the gargoyle sitting on her new dressing table. Her dreaming mind remembered it perfectly. It squatted there, hunched over and reflecting in the three-way mirror as if it was the vanguard of an infinite army of stone demons, its hand beckoning her closer. Janice shook her head at the wordless invitation-she had no intention of getting anywhere near it, waking or sleeping. She tried to make herself wake up, knowing that if she could just wake up then she would look over at the dressing table and see nothing on it but a few tubes of lipstick, but telling herself that she was dreaming didn't seem to help. Then it stood up. Janice felt an icy chill crawl across her naked skin despite the June warmth as it slowly unfolded its gangly limbs and raised itself up into a standing position. Its belly still hung low, but Janice could see its balls dangling between its legs now that its squatting hunch no longer hid them. It looked at her looking at it-at him, she realized uncomfortably-and his leering, twisted smile widened. Then, with a single frog-like leap, he cleared the gap between the dressing table and the bed and landed right between her feet. Janice tried to push herself backward, but her limbs were gripped with that horrible paralysis so common to dreams. The gargoyle stared her down, as if daring her to move as he crept along the mattress towards her, his eyes catching the light of her bedside lamp and reflecting them straight into hers. Movement of any kind felt strangely impossible under its gaze. A night terror, she realized. I'm having a night terror, I've heard of these, you feel like you're awake but you can't move and there's something in the room with you, it's not real none of this is real it's just a night terror it's not real it's not real- The creature reached out and touched her thigh. His hand felt smooth, like polished stone, but it also felt warm in a way that stone almost never did. Warmer than her own body, warmer than the night air. It felt like the statue had been sitting out in the hot sun all day, soaking in that warmth until he almost burned with it. He slid his hand along her thigh, brushing across her skin almost carelessly, until he made his way to her pubic mound. He held his hand there for a long moment, and Janice could feel his long, slender fingers tangling in her bush. She couldn't move at all. He held her in his gaze like a snake pinned a mouse. His smile widened. She could see his belly slowly lifting up as his cock stiffened, revealing a massive, priapic erection almost as long as he was tall. He giggled. It was a strange, high-pitched sound, like someone breaking a dozen tiny bells with a hammer. Then Janice felt his long, thin fingers slowly sliding into the entrance to her pussy. His hand slid in smoothly, effortlessly, and Janice realized she was unbelievably wet. Somehow, that made sense. This was all a weird, sexual panic kind of dream, the kind of crazy anxiety thing that happened on your first night in a new city less than a month after a bad break-up, so of course she was horny and terrified all at the same time. It felt weirdly natural to watch a grotesque, leering demon slowly slide his hand into her cunt all the way up to the wrist, then his arm all the way up to the elbow, wriggling it inside her as he went. Absolutely horrifying, but strangely natural. Then he was inside her all the way up to the shoulder, and Janice could feel him pressing his slender fingers against the walls of her vagina, probing one spot after another. Involuntarily, she felt her hips begin to roll in time to the motions, her paralysis loosening just enough to allow her to respond to his touch. Janice felt guilty for a moment for enjoying the intrusion, then she remembered that she was only dreaming. It wasn't real. He wasn't real. But it felt real. The pleasure felt incredibly real, like she was being fucked and fingered and fisted all at the same time. The creature's arm was just thick and muscular enough to give Janice something to clench around, and his fingers kept finding new places to touch that she'd never felt before. He found one spot after another to stimulate, making Janice gasp openly each time his thin, rock-hard fingers pressed against her inner walls. Soon, she fell into a rhythm of shuddering gasps and jaw-clenching bursts of ecstasy. The demon smiled, showing his dagger-like teeth as he played her pussy like a violin, and Janice was startled to hear a voice coming from her own throat as he fingered her. "I. Am. Your. Puppet," she heard herself saying in a strange, guttural moan, as her mouth opened and closed in bursts of pleasure. "I. Am. Your. Cunt. Puppet. And. You. Control. Me." The voice was his, she realized. He was throwing it like a ventriloquist, timing his words to match her wordless moans of desire. It was so bizarre that she would have laughed if she could have spared any breath. "Yes. Master," she heard herself saying. She could see herself in the dressing table mirror, croaking out the demon's words in a parody of speech. "Your. Cunt. Puppet. Loves. To. Obey." It was so strange to see herself, naked and moaning obscenities as she writhed on the bed, but it was also perversely hot. Janice couldn't help herself, she ground her body against the creature as it fisted her. "Cunt. Puppet's. Body. Is. On. Strings," she saw herself saying in the mirror. It seemed so easy now to relax into his control, to take her cues from the pleasure and let herself be guided. "Cunt. Puppet. Moves. To. Master's. Commands." Janice whimpered, but it was lost under the gargoyle's voice coming from her lips. "Cunt. Puppet's. Hands. Move. To. Her. Titties," she said, and no sooner did she say it than she watched her arms move seemingly of their own volition to caress her breasts. "Cunt. Puppet. Loves. To. Obey," she saw herself growling out. Janice watched her mirror self obey with an almost hypnotic fascination. "Cunt. Puppet. Wants. Cock," Janice saw herself groan out. "Please. Master. Fuck. Cunt. Puppet." She didn't know whether she meant it or not anymore-her pussy felt like a slick mess, and any fear had long since been subsumed into a dreamy arousal that left her legs spread wide and her nipples tight under her fingertips. "Fuck. Cunt. Puppet," she heard herself chant, "Fuck. Cunt. Puppet," and she knew that it didn't matter what she thought anymore. The demon slid his hand out of her with a single smooth gesture, and extended a long, serpentine tongue to lick her juices off of his fingers. Then he shifted his body and thrust all the way into her in one long, intense motion that almost left Janice cumming right then and there. He was just so big, bigger than he had any right to be, bigger than even made sense. She tried to remind herself that she was dreaming, but then he pumped into her again and she lost track of thought. He pounded her pussy, almost running back and forth on the mattress in order to thrust his entire length into her. She felt his long arms reach out to caress her bush again, finding her clit with casual ease and flicking at it over and over again as he fucked her. Janice pinched her nipples hard, knowing that her orgasm wasn't far away, knowing that she couldn't stop it now if she tried. "Fuck. Cunt. Puppet," she heard herself saying, no longer even sure if it was the demon's voice or her own chanting in ecstasy. "Fuck. Cunt. Puppet. Fuck. Cunt Puppet. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Janice's head rolled back and her eyes fluttered in bliss as she felt herself slip over the edge into orgasm. Janice knew it had to be a dream now, because she could actually see the pleasure now, rushing out of her mouth in an exhalation of reddish-purple smoke. It poured out of her like a volcanic eruption, swirling around the room as she came and came. She could feel him inside of her, fucking every last gasp of pleasure out of her body, leaving her drained and weak and deliciously sated in a way she never imagined possible as he sucked the smoke into his mouth until it was all gone. Only then did she feel his cock twitch and spurt inside her. By then she was too exhausted to care. He pulled out of her, his massive cock already softening. She strained to watch him, but her eyelids felt so heavy, and the blackness of deeper sleep once again claimed her before she could see him leave. ***** Janice woke to the lazy sunlight of the late afternoon, and to the heady smell of sex permeating the room. The mattress was absolutely soaked with her juices, and her pussy was a sticky mess. She wanted to take a shower, but something new deep inside her told her not to just yet. Instead, she stood up. Her body felt wobbly in a way it shouldn't after sixteen hours of sleep, a way mere exertion couldn't explain. Janice had a sudden flash of memory from her dream, the smoke issuing from her mouth in an orgasmic rush. She remembered the way it was consumed, every last wisp of it. Still, she made herself move. She went into the kitchen and found the blackout candles, still in their plastic wrapping. She wondered briefly how much of that decision had been her own. Had she been chosen the instant she locked eyes with him? Or even before that-had she ever possessed a will of her own, or was even her decision to come here just another link in the chain that bound her soul? It didn't matter. If she'd ever possessed the strength to escape, she'd given it up willingly last night. She grabbed a pack of matches and returned to the bedroom, reveling in the animal stink of lust that still clung to her body. She lit the first candle, using it to drip hot wax onto the dressing table in five places. She used the hot wax to stand the other candles in place, lighting them so that their drippings would help cement them into position further. The finish would probably be ruined, but Janice didn't care. She reached for one of the tubes of lipstick. Working carefully, she inscribed a pentagram in cherry red on the surface of the dressing table, drawing sigils whose meaning she didn't understand inside the circle. She watched the candles carefully. Only when she saw the wax cease its flow at the circle's edge, as if stopped by an invisible wall, did she recap the lipstick and set it aside. She reached down between her legs, pushing her fingers deep into her sticky pussy and swirling them around until they came away slick with fluid. She reached into the center of the pentagram and daubed it with the liquid. An electric shiver ran through her body as she felt the wood grow warm in a way mere temperature could never describe. Janice knelt down in front of the dressing table, prostrating herself to the floor until her breasts rubbed up against the carpet fibers. "With my desire," she whispered, "i consecrate Your altar. With my arousal, i consecrate Your altar. With my obedience, i consecrate Your altar." She chanted the words again three times in a language she did not recognize, then straightened once more. Once Janice had concluded the ritual, she finally allowed herself to shower off the smell of sex and pull on some clothes. She grabbed her purse and drove back to the second-hand store. Every so often, she would glance at the rear view mirror and catch sight of her glassy, vacant eyes staring back at her. She'd need another shower when she got home. The same clerk was working the counter, and his eyes widened a bit when he saw her coming up to the counter with the statue carefully resting in her cart. "Have to say," he said, his Vermont accent thick with surprise, "Never thought I'd get rid of that one. Fella fast-talked me into buying it, and I figured I'd sell the store before I sold that statue." Janice smiled beatifically. "What can I say?" she replied, a chuckle in her voice. "It just...called to me." THE END