25 comments/ 129222 views/ 36 favorites Don't Fear The Reaper By: Tx Tall Tales ------------------------ A short little tale about a mistaken address, and mistaken identity This is an entry in the Literotica 2010 Halloween contest. ------------------------ It's an easy enough mistake to make. The builder's should have known better. The Davis's, my neighbors two doors down, live at 1854 Beech Ct. Beech Drive runs perpendicular to Beech Court and it has an 1854 as well. No big deal right? Occasional mail dropped off at the wrong house. Not really a problem, the houses are almost behind each other. In north Dallas, a lot of the communities have alleys behind the houses to get to the garages, and the driveways to the two houses are only about 100 ft apart, diagonally, where the alleys 'T'. Not normally an issue. Except for this year. One night in particular. Todd and Jeanie Davis were having their typical Halloween blowout and the party was hopping early. I had found a pretty cool costume this year, at one of the Halloween Superstores that pop up around this time of year. It was a "Grim Reaper" costume, nearly 7 feet tall. You wore the hood like a hat and peered out of dark mesh near the throat area. Instant hit, towering above the crowd, never saying a word, just pointing and moaning and waving around my big-ass plastic reaper. It made drinking difficult, but I solved that by pulling an arm into the outfit and drinking my beer from a straw. Shades of high-school. The women were dressed to kill, in all sorts of outfits from cheerleaders to nurses, pirate wenches to sexy vampires. I figured once the novelty wore off, I'd break character and see who I could chat up. Mostly couples, there were still quite a few singles around, including a gorgeous devil in a barely-there red outfit that I felt deserved a bit of my undivided attention. As one of the very few single guys in the area, I found I was usually able to capture the attention of at least a few of the women at these affairs. My costume was hot, and I was standing out on the front porch cooling off and quaffing a cold one, debating whether it was time to make myself known, when I saw my mirror image stroll up the path. Crap. There goes the novelty. He stopped to talk to the group standing on the path less than 10 feet away and I heard him ask if Micheline was there. That got my attention. Jeanie Davis and Sarah Cleary were having a bit of a feud. Something to do with their daughters and the middle-school cheerleading squad. Wouldn't matter much, except Sarah was having a Halloween party the same night, over at 1854 Beech Drive. I knew because I'd been invited to both parties; I hadn't been dragged into the argument yet. They ran in the same crowds, and there'd been a lot of one-upmanship in having the best party and bigger attendance. It seemed like everyone in the area was going to one party or the other. I'm sure some were going to both. There was only one Micheline I knew of, and she was one of Sarah's best friends. She was single, recently divorced, and I instantly knew that her date for the evening had made the mistake so many others had made. I saw a chance for a little Halloween mischief, and I walked around the house and down the alley, to tease Micheline. I didn't know her well, just recognized her from the same groups and a few parties, but she was a genuine suburban Dallas MILF, and worth getting to know a little better. Why her husband left her was a mystery to me. She wasn't hard to find. There was a small crowd standing around in the garage, conveniently close to the beer fridge. A popular hangout for the smokers, there were a couple of guys smoking cigars and a handful of ladies dressed in their Halloween sexiest. Standing beside a Pipi Longstockings dead ringer, I saw Micheline dressed as the world's sexiest zombie. She was wearing a torn halter top, blood spattered miniskirt and stockings with tears and holes in them. Her makeup was pretty wild, giving her a pale look, with dark eyes, a large gash down one cheek, and the requisite bloody mouth with dark red lips. She had fake blood and a large open wound down her side. A stringy red wig completed the outfit. Very realistic. Very, very sexy. As I walked up the driveway, she spotted me and jogged down to meet me. A little stumble along the way, and some spilled strawberry margarita led me to believe she wasn't quite 100% sober. Maybe not 10%. "Ron! It's about time you got here. I was afraid you got lost." She reached out and gave me a hug. I just gave a low growl, and wrapped my arms in their long billowing sleeves around her, enveloping her in black. I pulled her close to feel her body against mine. She giggled, "Someone's feeling frisky, I see," she said softly. I just gave a deep rumble and slid my arms further down to cup her ass in my hands, with the onlookers unaware of my actions. "Mmmm, I guess late is better than never. But you have some catching up to do." Micheline turned out to be a little wilder than I thought, and she had her hands reaching between my legs, rubbing me as I grew hard for her. "I guess you like my costume then. I told you to be prepared." She pulled out of my arms and headed back to the garage, tugging me by the hand. She got a beer out of the fridge and passed it to me, which I drew back into my costume, then introduced me around. I broke out my straw and sampled the ale. Shiner. Good choice. I knew I should probably let her know about the costume and address mix-up, but I was enjoying the attention. I also thought I better make the explanation in private so I wouldn't embarrass her too much. During the introductions, I saw a cute vampiress, all the rage this year, and I pointed at her, shaking my head. Another low growl got a laugh out of her, and she hid behind one of the guys, dressed as a big baby. Not the greatest protector, I thought. The topic of conversation was all about who had attended which party, and who was going to be on who's shitlist. It sounded like the decision about which party to attend was a bigger deal than I'd thought. Should have known. I listened and finished my beer, just nodding and groaning when it seemed appropriate. While the others chatted, Micheline dragged me over to the backyard, where more of the party was going on, for more introductions. The Cleary's had a big yard, unlike most of the homes in the area. There was a crowd on the porch, including several guys surrounding a playboy bunny and a Hooter's girl, but the pool was empty, and the gazebo at the far end of the yard looked vacant as well. Micheline tugged me toward the porch, but I pulled back heading toward the gazebo, where I could finally explain the mistake. Maybe after one more nice hug. She giggled again for me, and skipped along beside me, heading toward the back of the yard. It was dark back there, and we had to walk through a small fake cemetery on the way to the gazebo, covered in artificial spiderwebs we couldn't even see until we were almost on top of it. We stepped up into the octagonal enclosure, and she turned and pressed her body against me, wiggling with bad intentions. "I wanted to thank you for last weekend. I had a great time." Her hands were back to my crotch, demonstrating just how thankful she was. Of course, in such a situation, any red-blooded male would do what I did. I groaned sexily, and ran my hands over her body. She peeked around me, looking at the distant crowd. "I don't think they can see anything back here, it's so dark." With that, she was lifting the bottom of my robe and climbing under it, on her knees. I put my scythe to the side, and pulled my arms into the robe, caressing her hair. She pulled my loose sweatpants down to my ankles and I felt the warmth of her mouth engulf me. Ok. Things were getting complicated. It was going to be hard to explain this "little" mistake. But I didn't have the willpower or desire to stop her at that moment. Not by a long-shot. She was good. Excellent. Marvelous. She sucked me deeply and aggressively, making love to my cock with her hot little mouth. I kept an eye open for anyone headed our way, but our luck was holding. The back of the yard was ours, and ours alone. My little love zombie was getting noisy, sucking me with abandon. I let her know I enjoyed it with soft caresses, an occasional encouragement on the back of her head, and contented moans. She pulled away, and I felt her moving around, then she was peeking out of my robes back at the house. "All clear?" "MmmHmmm," I groaned. She was turned away from me, and I reached down and held her hips, pushing against her. I shuffled forward a step so she could lean down and brace herself on one of the padded benches. I watched her pull the robes over her head, leaving her in darkness, but she stayed facing away from he, her soft ass pressing against my raging hard-on. She reached back and tugged her skirt up over her butt. I felt the material shift in my hands, and then I was grasping the soft skin of her round, sexy butt. I could feel a very small pair of panties, almost a thong. I rolled those down her ass to her thighs, and felt between her legs. She was smooth and wet. "God, Ron, I can't believe I'm letting you do this. I didn't know you were so wild," she murmured through the thick cloth. I took my cock in hand, and guided it between her legs, rubbing up and down her moist slit, pushing and probing until I felt the head enter her. A few nudges later, I was sliding inside, and with a firm push I filled her tightness. "Damn, Ron, you feel big tonight. I guess you do like this outfit. Or do you like doing it in public?" All I did was groan as I grabbed her hips and gave it to her. Looking over, I could see that a small group had moved a bit closer, but they were still a good ways away, and we remained in complete darkness. I was enjoying the feeling of being in this pretty little neighbor of mine, without her ever knowing it. My first tentative pokes turned into long, deep, rhythmic strokes. Deeper and harder I pounded her, feeling her body shifting on the bench until I saw her hands reach out from under my robes and grasp the railing of the gazebo. I could feel the difference as she pushed back against me, allowing me to fuck her even harder and faster. "God, it's good. So good," she moaned loudly, the cloth unable to totally stifle her. It was good. Incredibly good. The mystery of it. The "zipless fuck" aspect. The audience a little closer now but still unaware. The feeling of screwing a new, different, hot pussy for the first time. I slowed down, not wanting it to end, trying to hold back that feeling of impending release. We shuffled sideways, and she lifted one knee onto the bench, opening herself even wider to me. I hunched over her, squeezing her tits while I slowly screwed her. I pulled her top over her tits, exposing the flesh to my grasp, and mauled her tits, pinching her erect nipples, while my rod continued it's mission of deep penetration. I could feel the MILF trembling in my hands, and I brought one down between her legs, reaching for her love button, rubbing it violently while I picked up the pace, pounding her like the piece of undead flesh she was dressed as. Or mostly undressed as, in this case. Her gasps alerted me to her approaching release, and I grabbed her hip with one hand while my fingers continued their vibrating over her clit. She started moaning loudly, while I sawed in and out of her tight slit, knowing I couldn't last much longer. I had hoped to help her get off, but it was too late. It felt too good. I squeezed down on her clit and came hard, exploding deep inside her. It must have been enough to push her over the top. She cried out, loudly enough to turn a few distant heads our way, and I plunged in and out, draining any last remnants from my happy trouser buddy, while I felt her spasm along the length of my rod. Regretfully, I pulled out of her, reaching down and pulling my pants back up. Regretful that I had to pull out, not about what I'd done. There'd be time enough to regret that later, if I so desired. Adjusting my pants had the added benefit of pulling my robes off of her, and I was able to get an eyeful of her sweet full tits, while she pulled up her panties and straightened her skirt, before adjusting her top. The nearest partiers were headed our way. I guessed our noises had attracted a little attention. She turned and held her face up for a kiss. I kissed her through the material. "I've got to use the bathroom. We made a mess. I'll find you." She turned and walked awkwardly toward the house. I grabbed my instrument of death (the plastic scythe - my you have a dirty mind!) while I followed a few steps behind. At the gate, I made a detour for the driveway, running into Pippi Longstockings. "Did you find her yet?" she asked. "MmmmHmmm," I growled, and she giggled. I turned toward the alley and quickly hustled over to my house, where I ran in and changed into my Warlock costume from the year before. I'm sure I'd catch some ribbing for that, but better a little teasing, then let the whole world know who the second reaper was, if it should come to that. A few minutes later I was headed back to the party at Sarah's place. I was dying to see how Micheline and her date were getting along. If things didn't work out for them, I figured she was worth getting to know better. A whole lot better. ====== Hope you enjoyed this little tale of mistaken identity. If you liked it, please vote! Don't Fear The Reaper Eons progressed as he remained ever unchanged in his realm. Empires rise, conquer and fall still he would be there to see it all. Sitting upon his majestic throne of bone, viewing the destruction from afar. A part of everything and everyone yet eternally separated from the universe. Dark sockets permeated his fearsome visage and if he had the ability to, his brows would be furrowed. If he had brows or any skin at all. He was Death everlasting. To view him is to mean you were chosen, for his physical form rarely allowed visitors inside his palace at the edge of time and space. The most ancient paintings had depicted him correctly, a skeleton cloaked within shadows. A formidable scythe stood to the side of his throne, waiting the judgment day for which to wield it and show those with mortal souls that there was something tangible of him to be feared. Timeless, though, had the drawback of utter boredom from endless eons of existence. He had been there to experience everything and nothing was enticing to him anymore. There were millenniums left to spend before the end was to arrive and already his thoughts turned to dissatisfaction. Allotted only a few visitors every century Death needed to choose them carefully. The Reaper needed to be certain about who he chose in order to alleviate his weariness. Tonight was one of those long awaited and anticipated nights. On the field of battle the life had been taken of an incredibly fierce warrior, a stunning woman that had slaughtered thousands in the service of her king. Death had not taken of the pleasures of a woman for a great long while, finding his tastes able to ruin even the most noble of women. This woman, though, this Aleria was not destined for the Promised Land but was neither meant for a special hell. She was to remain in limbo for many years. Death wished this rebellious woman to be his for the night. It was his decision that made this universe spin and his will would be done upon her enticing flesh. In front of his throne was the portal that would bring her soul to his palace and reconstruct it as flesh and blood. The old body would rot upon the ground where Aleria died, yet here she would be born anew. Red, gold and blue spirals of light whirred around the object forming the woman. Hips, curves, long shapely legs shone transparent as each piece of her essence reconstructed itself for his pleasure. A face of purity and virginity (for despite her many conquests in battle with men, she had as of yet never been conquered by man) slowly shaped. Green eyes opened slowly underneath a wild mane of golden blond hair. Flushed pale cheeks were flowing into a pert nose and succulent cupid bow lips. As with her body her clothing formed as well, as her appearance as entire was a part of her personality. Outfits that she wore expressed her strength better than she could with words for her voice was too heavenly to believe that such a creature could be one of the deadliest soldiers ever to grace the world. Dangling from her neck a pendant she had held in high regard, a treasure she took from her teacher after slicing off her head. Purple gown flowing over her hips held in place by a thin belt crowned with a crow skull winding around her waist. Black and purple bodice began to come together around her chest, interlinking metal bits into the sparse armor she had become used to. Golden bands encircle her arms with sharp jutting points spiking off, ready to slice and rend her enemies flesh. There she was in full form, dress and flesh. If death could grin, he would at this moment, viewing his new prize earned for unending service to the cosmos. Breath surged into her lungs and the shock of rebirth ran electric through her body. Ever vigilante Aleria reached for a weapon that hadn't come with her. When she didn't find that she retreated, dashing throughout the throne room trying to find out where she was. Looking around for the enemy that had skewered her belly. No battle was raging around her, in fact there was nothing but silence and with this realization she became more disturbed. Finally, crouched into a corner ready to spring onto anyone that may attempt to attack her, her eyes fell on the hooded skull on the throne of mortality. "Welcome Aleria." He rose from his throne and stood at a full six foot eight inches in height. His cloak bellowed around him briefly then shifted back into itself, clinging to his seemingly frail frame. "I hope the trip here wasn't too distressing." Springing out form the corner she bolted straight towards Death bringing her arms out ready to attack. Leaping out to tackle the eternal one but his bony hand easily snatched a hold of the top of her metal bodice holding her a foot in the air and at arms length. "Now that's no way to greet your new owner." The voice was tinged with the sounds of insects buzzing, sinuously amalgamating those most frightening of nightmares into words. With a flick of the wrist the Reaper flung her fifteen feet away easily separating her body from her metal chest piece. Her buttocks hit the floor shooting pain up her spine, her supple breasts were bouncing up with their newfound freedom. Rubbing the small of her back, Aleria got back up and preparing to strike again her angelic voice rang out, "Nobody owns me! I am ruled only by my wishes." Aleria had no inhibitions, so the thought of covering up her now exposed breasts didn't cross her mind. Death moved slowly towards her, his shadow creeping along the ground as he walked. "Perhaps that was true in your past life. Maybe on that world you were mighty and fearsome." a bony hand reached out harshly grabbing hold of Aleria's left breast, "Here, in the land of the dead, you are nothing more than my plaything!" Aleria attempted to get away from his cold grip but found it difficult. With his other hand he reached down to the crow skull on her skirt, holding firmly to it. The fleshless face of the Reaper got in close, sockets of unlimited depth stared through her eyes only few inches from her face. Again he tossed her aside, ripping the flimsy garment leaving her with nothing on other than gold armlets. Sex was not the pleasure he was looking for, it would merely help him achieve his goal. What made him interested in this woman was breaking her. A young girl like this having impaled, immolated, eviscerated and beheaded so many in combat. To break her would be the desired enjoyment he wished for. Rendering her completely naked, her genitalia, breasts, her body exposed to the cold of his palace was just the first step towards bringing her to her knees. Peering around the place, trying to find something to fight him back with, Aleria spotted his intricate scythe sitting next to the throne. Distracting him by feigning to the left she bolted to the right grabbing a hold of the very large weapon. She held it out easily, her arms and legs vastly muscled from many battles won, getting prepared to swing the mighty weapon at her opponent. Laughter erupted from the Reaper, a shrill sound that immediately curdled even Aleria's strong bones. "Go ahead little girl. Come at me, but you will not enjoy what happens if you do." Aleria was used to pointless threats so she took no head of his warning and charged. Death stood his ground, placid and unwavering. She swung the scythe down with the great strength of a warrior woman, though she had never fought an eternal being before. A grinning maw of teeth did not waver as a bony hand caught its own weapon with great ease. Holding her still his other hand reached down and grabbed her by the pussy, inserting three cold dead fingers into her dry hole. Lifting her off the ground by the crotch his fingers dug even deeper. "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!" she screamed out at the violation. Despite all battles, despite how nubile and flexible she was, her hymen had never been broken. Painfully he had ripped right through it starting a flow of blood trailing across his hand. Tossing his weapon at the wall, the bladed edge embedded inside, he let his tongue drift from his mouth. To truly say it was a tongue was incorrect. Its appearance was more like that of a snake, minus mouth and eyes. Darting straight out and diving into her open mouth causing her to choke. Quickly, in spite of pain, she bit down only finding that as hard as she bit was unable to sever the thing that squirmed inside her throat. Death kept jabbing it in, thrusting it down her throat and back up. The taste and feel from it was one of two parts of his anatomy that actually could. Enjoying the sensation of the tight constriction, from her attempts to swallow. Gagging on it, attempting to breath but failing, she felt the engorgement of the snake tongue fucking her throat. His sensation was becoming overbearing, it had beens so long since he had even felt this. Death's orgasm is strange. It causes something similar to what humans have, but as the being he is some things are stranger. A hole formed on the tip of his tongue as he felt the welling up of his own juices that flow within the marrow of his bones. Aleria kept trying to push herself off, flailing her free arm about, smashing her fist against his rib cage. Her other hand had been tightly held by Deaths free hand as his left kept fingering her tight swollen orifice. Masturbating her roughly with the cold hand had caused her to squirm immensely. Aleria hated it, she hated the feeling of being out of control. Unable to fight him off, escape wasn't an option from the cold hand plunging up inside her cunt. Bony fingers searching out every crevice inside her. He kept thrusting them up into her, trying to cause discomfort, trying to make her bend to his will. Hate swelled in her but nothing she did could get her away from this horrible thing that wouldn't stop plundering her body. Aleria had come to realize that she was being violated by the Grim Reaper. Welling up so much of his fluids, Death's tongue finally let loose what could be called his semen. Shooting straight down her throat, filling her stomach so that it began protruding, soaking her esophagus, the fluid stuck to its walls, more so than normal ejaculate was supposed to. Almost like a webbing it criss crossed as it coated her throat. Death felt his orgasm with incredible intensity having not experienced one in such a very long time. Pulling his tongue back out, feeling the pressure of her teeth against it a last shot covered the inside of her mouth. He threw her to the side again. He was enjoying tossing around such a pride filled woman. Arching backwards, laughing, the tongue licked at his hand, enjoying the taste of vestal virginity. So long, so long had it been since he had enjoyed the taste of purity. Centuries had passed since he had enjoyed it, the simple delight in it. Aleria was wiping at the semen, it was clinging to her chest and breasts where it had splashed. It wouldn't go away. Sticking to everything in sight, encasing most of her mouth in it. Unable to wipe it from her skin, unable to really get away from it. Attempting to rub it off didn't work, all it did was cover even more of herself. Soaking herself in it, unable to feel clean again. For the first time in her life she felt truly naked, she felt exposed to the world and was disgusted by it. Death spoke with flair, despite his groaning voice, "That felt incredible my beauty. Such a delightful start to a fully penetrable afterlife." Fear rose into her eyes, fully understanding what was occurring. Crouched on the floor, covered by a web of his cum, having been violated so easily she saw what was going on. Her life was now forfeit, her body to be bent to this frightening visage of a being. Rage at her circumstances replaced the fear, need to strike back arose and she again charged at Death. Wrapping his arm around her waist during mid flight, Death slammed her onto the floor. Harsh bursts of pain ran through her head when her chin hit the ground. Stars twinkled behind her eyes, white flashes were drifting through her field of vision. Death's hands ran across the smooth white skin of her back, gently caressing the curves of her body drifting along her ass. With one quick movement he shoved the fingers of his left hand into her asshole. Screaming out into the emptiness, Aleria tried to get up and away. Death quickly grabbed a hold of her blond hair, pulling her head harshly back, the snake tongue darting out again to flick at her ear. "You are mine, Aleria! You will understand that!" Four bony fingers were pounding into the virgin asshole, forcefully opening up the inside of a part of her body that she had never even thought about in such a sense. Her back passage was burning up from the invasion. Her neck felt like it was ready to snap as for every push of the fingers deep inside he pulled her head back, ripping a few stray hairs out with his rough hold. The shadow cloak started dripping away, reforming into his second sensory appendage. A black cock started growing from the center of the cloak, growing far too large for an average woman to handle. Aleria, briefly looking behind her, saw it and knew immediately what he had intended for it. Trying to crawl away Death slammed the rampent cock deep inside her cunt. Squealing out her pain, she accidentally pushed back on the too large beast of a cock sending thrills up Death's exposed spine. All at once he came inside her from too much sensation too quickly. Aleria's pussy filled with the sticky fluid, dripping down from the edges. As he came the thrusts kept pounding deep inside her tight sheath. There was no stopping his enjoyment, he refused to allow her even a single moment to recuperate. Her mind had not yet snapped, she had yet to break to his will. Death's hips thrust forward even harder, Aleria could feel the bones of his pelvis slapping harshly against her round ass. From the cloak he created a second penis as a continuation of the first. The second part of his body that could feel sensation was the cloak itself. With the new cock ready to go he removed his hand from the opened asshole of Aleria. A gasp of relief escaped her mouth only to change to a scream as he quickly replaced his fingers with something far larger. Sliding his second cock in her tight asshole, he could feel his first one through the thin wall separating the two passageways. Both hands now were clasped around her head, his long fingers shoving themselves into her mouth so she could taste herself. She kept asking why her neck hadn't snapped yet, kept wondering to distract the mind. It didn't help, but the question was all she had to hold onto as two cocks pounded into her, soaking her insides with Death's disgusting juices. She was breaking, not there yet, but it was happening. Powerless for the first time in her life she wanted to give up to the bony figure ramming into her ass. Death knew, he couldn't let up yet, he had to keep going. His cloak unwrapped from his body enough to start trailing across her body. Through it he felt the contours of her back, her breasts, the shapeliness of her legs. With it he created several more cocks. One of them he used to start face fucking her again, inserting the black rock hard thing into her throat. Aleria accepted it, didn't even attempt to bite down but began to actually caress it with her tongue. Another cock was created to rub against her chest, gliding through the separation of her breasts. Death was as close as he had ever gotten to heaven. Aleria was still fighting back, but not with the vigor as before. Instead she was now moving with him, allowing him to thrust deep inside all of her orifices. He felt more powerful than ever. The strangest part, though, was that she was starting to actually enjoy herself. Death could feel the transition of her thought, could feel the change of her mood. It confused him, yet not enough for him to stop. In fact, he kept going with renewed vigor, which was as endless as himself. Aleria was enjoying herself. Despite being forcefully taken by this being, despite being flung somewhere into a realm, that was new and unknown to her she was beginning to enjoy it. Her body had been conquered, fully and finally and with it her soul. Never having given herself up to others, finding all men to be weak and powerless she was now in the presence of a being that had easily subdued her and used her. The once great hatred had been replaced with great respect for what had been accomplished and with that respect came yearning. Came the desire to continue to be conquered. To give up and let her body be used and abused as the Reaper saw fit. In the eyeless view of Death she was its own. Death's head reared back in ecstasy, loving every minute of sensation it took from her and now she was broken. He owned her body and soul. His will had shattered that which had seemingly in the land of the living been unbreakable. He came with the revelation, filling up every one of her holes with his mighty fluid. Instead of rejecting it, Aleria welcomed it, finding it soothing in the cold room. Voluntarily swallowing all that went down her throat, enjoying the taste and sensation. Experiencing the swell of her ass, her abdomen caused her to have something she had never had before. Aleria experienced her first orgasm. Death removed the cock from her mouth to hear her. Splashing her face and chest with his cum from two cocks (the one for tits and the one for mouth-fucking), soaking her torso with his seed. Moaning loudly she relished the sensation of being filled to the brim she squealed out her delight and cried out into the seeming nightmare. "GOD YES!! DON'T STOP, PLEASE DON'T STOP!!" The act of screaming out her want, her desire completed it. Aleria now belonged to Death. She was his for eternity. Death was somewhat dumbfounded. Although he had wanted to break her this was unexpected. She still wanted him. She wasn't screaming out in desire to do anything just to make it stop. Her desire was genuine and with it came his own fascination with her. With great ease he flipped her over and kept impaling her lower two holes with his cocks, still cumming, each spurt spilling out from the light cracks surrounding his cocks. Aleria looked up at the skull. She felt passion for this ancient endless being. To her it didn't matter the way it looked. She had for the first time been conquered, tamed. This was the powerful entity she was meant to be with. Aleria wrapped her arms around Death's spinal neck and enjoyed him riding her as she gasped in orgasmic joy. Her own juices didn't stop flowing and mixing with his. Her hips thrust upwards in time with his hard deep thrusts that filled her clenching, hungry holes. Death had found his mistress, finally found his one, his companion through eternity. The thick tendrils snaking inside of her body didn't stop cumming. The snake tongue wormed into her mouth and Aleria accepted it. Her tongue caressed the snake and lavished at the texture of it. With each movement another orgasm erupted from her and with each moment came another shot of Death's own semen. Filling her cunt, stuffing her asshole, clogging her throat with every fluid his body could produce and project. Hours passed as the two erupted together in ecstasy, each knowing something new and never before touched upon. Fluids dripping from them, being tasted or absorbed by Aleria's new found eagerness. Not a drop of their essence wasted to the floor, not a smidgen of it let to settle upon dust. Aleria was now the Reaper's woman with every thrust, cry and orgasm, with every movement and secretion exchange. Aleria passed out, exhausted from a much more extreme workout than battles had ever been for her before. Death gently wrapped her in the warmth of his cloak. "My beloved, you aren't going to leave my side." His inability to kiss her for some reason disturbed him at that moment, so a light flick of the snake tongue ran across her smooth brow, "My fierce woman of war, Aleria, you will spend eternity with me." Death made the declaration and it was so.