4 comments/ 20196 views/ 2 favorites Moth to a Flame By: endeavour The wind had picked up; the night was cold with a steady rain that pelted the old shingles on the cottage. She drew her chair closer to the fire trying to seek its warmth. One of the many disadvantages of being old was that feeling of never being truly warm. The room was small but even so the oil lantern cast eerie shadows on the wall and she felt a shiver move up her spine. Life had been hard for her, a never ending series of misfortunes. At first she had been optimistic that better things were coming her way but as the years went by she knew it was only a pipe dream. People like her were destined to fail; it was written in the stars. She had been married at sixteen to a man of her father's choosing. By thirty she had already given birth to nine children and there would have been more if her husband hadn't died suddenly. She had little time to grieve, her first concern was to feed and house her children. There were years of toil, years of working ones fingers to the bone to barely eke out a living. Her job as a charwoman paid scarcely enough to put food on the table. Extras were few and far between but somehow they had survived. The years went by and as the children left; life became somewhat easier. By the time the last one was gone; she was well into her forties but looked and felt decades older. Life had passed her by and she felt bitter and resentful. Her children; whom she had struggled so hard to raise had their own lives and she was largely forgotten. Now in her sixties, her home became her world and her refuge. It knew her and understood her, its familiar walls brought peace and comfort. At the end of each day it listened as she poured out her feelings of loneliness and inadequacy. Oh yes her home was a safe shelter; her haven from the cruelties of her world. That was then - this was now. It had started so gradually that at first she completely missed it. There were a series of small incremental steps that started to form over a matter of weeks. Her house seemed to transform day by day. There was never anything she could put a finger on but she now felt like she was unwanted in her own home. Her warm, welcoming house now felt cold and sinister; she was the intruder. Her gardens; always lush and beautiful; withered and died. The rooms of the house were always cold, even on a hot summer day. The sun often tried to peek through the ever thickening layer of clouds only to be thwarted time and again. The young boy from town who delivered her supplies left them at her door and took to heel as if the very devil was chasing him. Always a loner by choice; she now became shunned even more by the small town. As each day worsened; she knew she was well and truly on her own and her fears escalated. She had no one; she had nothing. The cloud of doom had seen to that quite effectively. In a period of weeks she was isolated, a virtual prisoner in her own home. The cloud became denser; seemingly to come and go at will. Objects became blurred or distorted in the wavering mist and her mind began to slowly unravel. The creature comforts were secondary now; her main goal was survival from a force she had no power to fight. The days and nights seemed to blend into one; there was no respite from the continual sense of dread that loomed over her. Until tonight - tonight was different and she had felt it from the moment the sun had sunk over the horizon. Darkness had come quickly; the house had seemingly been enveloped in one fell swoop. It was if the giant cloud had finally completely swept up the little cottage permeating every fiber of its being. She had wandered the rooms trying to understand the change but to all outward appearances it looked the same. No it wasn't the rooms and the furnishings; it was the atmosphere. There was an air of malice, a malevolence that filled her with dread and fear. The evil, malignant stranger had finally captured her home. Hurriedly she had stoked the fire in a futile hope that she could purge the invader in her home. Pulling her chair close to the fire she took up her knitting. Her hands trembled but eventually the constant repetition of knit and purl seemed to sooth her tension. The crackle of the fire and the steady beat of the rain were comforting and she began to relax. Her eyes grew heavy and the knitting dropped heedlessly into her lap as she drifted off to sleep. It was the wind that woke her with its eerie whistling sound as it moved through the trees. She yawned; it was late and her bed called to her. It was at that moment she felt the evil return. One moment all was peaceful for the first time in months; the next moment her heart was pounding wildly. The room seemed darker and she stood quickly and banked the fire. Almost in a panic now she hurried to her bedroom and undressed. The heat of the fire hadn't reached here and she shivered in a mixture of cold and fear. Whatever force that inhabited the house was doubly strong here and she looked around the room in dismay. She saw the mist as it rose and swirled around her legs and tried to run but her body was frozen in place. The small mirror on the wall captured her horror as the vapor enclosed her body in an almost claustrophobic embrace and tossed her effortlessly upon her bed. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as once more horror fought a battle with disbelief. She felt the pressure of an unseen hand as it clamped over her mouth and nose and she fought wildly to breathe. Her hands and legs were wrapped in bands of steel as she was held spread eagle to the bed. Just as her lungs were about to burst; the pressure was removed and she gasped for breath; desperate for air. Her clothes were ripped from her and she sobbed in terror as the cold air hit her body. The vapor had no form, she could see through it but nevertheless she could feel it as it moved over her body. She cried out as she felt her breasts being squeezed by invisible hands. She blinked rapidly - this had to be a nightmare. The walls of her bedroom seemed to pulsate before her eyes, taking on a life of their own. Familiar objects were now unrecognizable, each one transforming into a hideous caricature of itself. They fluttered in and out of her eyesight adding to the dreamlike quality of the room. Pieces of her life floated by; it was almost as if they took great pleasure in the carnal scene below them. Pictures off the wall, clothes out of her dresser drawers, hairbrush and comb; all battled for supremacy in the surrealistic atmosphere. She had no time to study their motives; no time to try and comprehend what was happening. Her head tossed from side to side and she shrunk back as she felt the pressure of an invisible body as it covered hers. She tried to break free but the old bed, the bed where she had bore her children; held her captive. Whatever it was; it was earthy and raw and she moaned as she felt teeth clamp down on her breast. Her hips were held fast and she screamed as the being took form and reared back; only to drive itself deep inside her. Her body felt split; torn asunder and the pain threatened to overwhelm her as the entity sawed in and out of her. She had always lived a spiritual life; a life where she gave of herself and everyone took. Now as the beast pounded into her body she felt only pleasure and unbridled lust. For the first time she knew how it felt to be one with something; to meld into one giant mass of aching flesh. Tipping her head to the side she could see herself in the cracked mirror, legs wide as the giant member rammed itself in and out repeatedly. Her eyes were wide and she heard herself begging for release; for the blessed ecstasy to overtake her. The old bed squeaked and groaned under the frenzied coupling and the room pulsed once more as the sounds echoed through its old walls. Outside the storm was at its peak; the perfect complement to her ever approaching climax. Her back arched as she accepted more of the pulsing, pounding rod and the blood roared in her ears. She was no longer an old woman; she was a wanton craving more. Age and time were irrelevant as her orgasm ripped through her body. The roar of the being above her only served to make her pleasure more intense as it swelled inside her. Around the bed the objects swirled madly as in a vortex, inching ever closer to the primal mating. Her eyes flew open as the being's seed flooded her body; liquid fire; indescribable pleasure and pain. The lantern crashed against the wall as she reached the pinnacle. Its oil ran down the wall; a perfect accompaniment to the fires that raged inside and she watched as the fire reached the bed. As the flames licked her body she felt exultation; a giddy euphoria and yes - a feeling of contentment and belonging. The heat consumed her; combustion was imminent. Like a moth to the flame and with a cry of pure joy she surrendered and moved into the light. Moth to a Flame The following story is based on events from my own life and does not necessarily represent a healthy mindset. Never engage in any described sexual acts without prior negotiation and safety measures. I am a real lesbian, so this story is written out of my own desires and not political correctness. All people in this story are over 18. I jolted awake to my phone's obnoxiously cheerful chime alerting me of a new text message. I frantically grabbed around my bedding before finally retrieving it from my pillowcase. The room was pitch dark, and I squinted to read what was on the screen: "Wednesday 10/24 2:21 AM Victoria Lee: I need a quickie. Be at the gas station across from the mall at 3." I stumbled into the bathroom, squinting again as I flipped on the light. I turned on the shower and tied up my hair. The water was cold, but I did not have time to wait for the water to warm up. My rose petal pink nipples shriveled and darkened as the icy water ran over my round E-cup breasts. I washed and ran a razor over my bikini area, underarms and legs, then washed my face and stepped out. I frantically brushed my teeth and hastily applied concealer, mascara and lipstick. I turned on the light in my bedroom, found my best push-up bra and black thong, and then fumbled through my closet for a pair of tight skinny jeans and low-cut top to put on top. I grabbed my favorite heels and purse on my way out the door. With luck, I would get there before 3. As I drove to the gas station, I asked myself why I did this. Why would a proud, educated, intelligent woman keep subjecting herself to this? Why was Vic so irresistible to me? It did not matter. I pulled into the gas station lot and immediately spotted Vic. My heart leapt inside my chest and I felt I could not park quickly enough. She was leaning against the wall in a pair of black cargo pants, all-star sneakers, white tank top and black leather. Her short black hair was spiked; she had probably been out clubbing. A cigarette hung from her thick, pierced lower lip. As I approached, she irreverently blew smoke at me. "Hey," she said in her low, raspy voice. She looked me up and down with her cold, dark eyes and motioned for me to follow her to the other side of the building. I followed without question. She led me to her car, unlocked the door and told me to lie down in the back. I gingerly reclined in the back seat, taking care not to crush the various items already there. As I moved her things to the front seat, I noticed a bottle of risperidone that was prescribed to her, a bottle of codeine that was not, and her girlfriend's sweater. Yeah, I knew about her girlfriend. Vic was an asshole and I loved her for it. Vic took off her leather jacket, and I watched her brown nipples harden under her thin white tank. She loomed over me, unzipped her fly and pulled down her pants and boxers, revealing a double-strap harness that left her pussy fully accessible. Underneath, black pubic hair decorated the front of her vulva, but her labia were soft and bare. I got lost in its intoxicatingly enticing smell, only to be startled as she abruptly sat on my face. I struggled to breathe but she did not move, so I quickly found her clitoris and sucked it into my mouth. I felt her labia swell against my lips. She moaned softly and shifted her weight, allowing me two breaths, before grinding back into my face. She grabbed my tit and squeezed until it hurt, ignoring my muffled moans. I sucked on her clit, periodically penetrating her with my tongue, eliciting loud, husky moans. She let me breathe about every 45 seconds. I sorely wanted to use my fingers to fuck her but could not, making the asphyxiating process much longer. "Yeah...mmm...yeah..." She grinded harder and harder. I was running out of air, but she did not budge. Her hips rocked faster and faster. I felt faint. She would not let me breathe, but I did not date interrupt her orgasm. Finally, she relented and lifted her pussy off my face. We took a moment to catch our breath. I sat up, allowing her to sit down, before lying back down in her lap. My pussy felt hot and engorged, while the residual fluid on my lips grew cold. "Fuck me," I blurted out. "Yeah? You have the tool?" What? I knew she intended to fuck me because she wore the harness, but in my confusion, I could only answer with an honest "No." "Damn it!" She said. She hooked her fingers into my belt loops and in one aggressive motion flipped me so I lay over her knee. Her strength never ceased to surprise me. She yanked down my tight jeans and thong (needlessly) and began spanking me. "You know I don't like using my nice cocks on dirty sluts like you!" Dirty slut? She was the one cheating on her girlfriend, but in my state of arousal, I accepted the humiliation. The first blow hit my relaxed butt by surprise and was very painful, so I tensed my asscheeks in anticipation of the next smack in the hopes that it would lessen the pain, only to find that it hurt even more. I resigned myself to the punishment, instinctively tightening after each blow and forcibly relaxing in preparation for the next. Every time I moved I felt it in my pussy, and each slap resonated deep inside me. She finally tired of spanking me when my ass was burning in the cold air, and she nonchalantly said, "Luckily, I brought one for you anyway." I was not even angry. All that squirming in her lap had made me even more excited. She produced a long, slender, semi-realistic green dildo and proceeded to attach it to her harness. "I want you on all fours," she said without looking up. I clamored to oblige. When she finally looked up, she chuckled derisively at my vulnerable position, "God, you're a slut." I moaned, which she must have taken to mean I agreed. "This thing might not be big enough. I bought this for my girlfriend, not a whore like you," she scoffed as she gingerly inserted the tool. She thrust in and out a few times, then rammed into me. I felt the impact of her full body weight plowing into me and let out an involuntary moan. My cunt felt like city walls being broken in by a battering ram powered by a thousand heartless barbarians. I was moaning like a bitch in heat, but Vic and I both knew that vaginal stimulation alone would not make me cum, so she withdrew and removed the harness. She flung the door open and barked, "Kneel! I'm going to give you what you deserve." I stumbled out of the car with my tits hanging out of my top and my jeans still around my knees. As I hurriedly tried to pull up my jeans, I saw Vic kicking off her pants, which had been hanging at her ankles. I watched her remove her shoes, puzzled about what she would do next. Would she slap me? Beat me? I was eager to receive whatever she had in mind as I shivered in the icy night air. The anticipation was killing me. I slipped my hand down my pants and began to rub my clit furiously. She eyed me coldly, watching me give in to my urges and masturbate uncontrollably with a disdainful chuckle. She stood over me, grabbed my long auburn hair and using it to pull my face within a few inches of her pussy. She paused to let me breathe in its seductive scent again. I opened my eyes just in time to see a stream of piss coming at me. I moved in closer, enjoying the warmth that quickly gave way to an icy chill. I opened my mouth, desperate to drink in everything she had to offer. I moved my head around, letting the piss hit my forehead, tongue and scalp, hearing and feeling it tinkle on impact. I started to cum and prayed her bladder would not run out before I was finished. I rubbed faster and faster, letter Vic's pee fall from my face, down my chest and legs. She finished peeing not a moment too soon and unceremoniously walked away and put her pants back on while I caught my breath. "See you next time," she said as she tossed my purse at me. She jumped behind the wheel and sped away, leaving me on my knees in a dirty parking lot, shivering and covered in piss. I buttoned up my pants, which were now soaked with her pee and stuffed my tits back into my top. I had no choice but to walk back in front of the convenience store on my way back to the car. The clerk stared at me through the window and I realized, to my horror, that she had seen the whole thing. The burning in my cheeks was nothing compared to the burning shame I felt in the pit of my stomach. I sat in my car, allowing Vic's piss to dribble off me and soak into the upholstery. I looked in my purse and realized that Vic had stolen $40 from me. Vic was an unrepentant asshole, but I was addicted to her, and there was nothing I could do about it. I could not wait for next time.