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Incubi

By: Regular Guy



"This story results from a collaboration between Subarbaby4u and myself, is based upon Sugababy4u's original idea and presented here with her consent."

Judy Lawson stared out of her living room window, across the plains that stretched as far as she could see. Her heart was heavy, and she thought of her husband, Gary, who was in Iraq. She was proud that her husband was serving their country but she missed him terribly and longed for his return.

Judy and Gary had been high school sweethearts, and neither had ever dated anyone else. Theirs was a typical cheerleader-footballer romance; both of them had plenty of admirers but they wanted only each other and neither of them could have been happier. With the blessing of their families they married as soon as it was announced that the 39th Battalion of the Arkansas National Guard would be posted abroad and they had shared a blissful few days together before Gary left, Judy unable to hold back the tears as she watched her husband leave. 

As well as hastily making all of the wedding arrangements, the Lawsons had made a down payment on a quaint little bungalow a few miles outside of Mount Ida in the Lake Cuachita country on State Highway 27. They moved in three days before Gary's battalion was scheduled to fly to Iraq, and those three days came and went all too quickly.

With no neighbors to visit or spend time with and no amenities offering escape, Judy busied herself readying their love nest for Gary's return. A homely girl, Judy dusted, polished and cleaned everything that didn't move, until she found herself cleaning household items that frankly couldn't be cleaner. It was the only way she could pass the time.

But if the days were difficult for the young bride, the long, lonely nights were harder still. She would lay in bed alone, thinking of her husband half a world away, tossing and turning until sleep finally came. It had been like this every night of the two weeks since Gary left, and no one knew for certain when he would return. 

One morning when Judy was clearing out a cupboard that she had somehow overlooked until now, she found a large box that contained a variety of useless items. Broken cutlery, chipped mugs and stained clothes made up most of the box, and Judy wasted no time in bagging up this debris which she would dispose of later that day. But there was one item in the box that seemed out of place: a large, leather-bound book, which she found to be fairly heavy when she reached down to lift it out. As Judy blew the dust from the ornate cover, the ringing of the telephone called her away; it was her mother calling, and an hour later when she finally put down the telephone Judy had completely forgotten about the book.

As night started to draw in Judy was sitting on the porch, restless and thinking of Gary as always. Suddenly, she remembered the book and retrieved it from the cupboard. The cover contained only one word: "Incubi", which meant nothing to her, and she decided that reading it later might help her sleep. She placed the book on her bed before taking a long, luxurious bath, and then curled up under the covers and opened it for the first time. 

Judy almost shut the book the moment she opened it. On the inside cover was a picture of a hideous creature, the like of which she'd never seen before. The creature had the body of a reptile and the head of a dog, or perhaps a wolf, and large fangs from which saliva dripped. Underneath the picture the same word as appeared on the book's cover was again written: Incubi. 

The only other detail that Judy noticed was that this incubi, if that is what these beasts were called, had a penis that seemed abnormally large. Whilst the picture offered no scale by which size could be judged, Judy definitely thought that this incubi must be pretty popular with the females of his species. Judy started thinking about Gary again, his having been the only penis she'd ever seen, touched or felt within her. Gary was quite big, Judy thought, but surely not as big as the beast at whose picture she couldn't stop staring. 

With a start, Judy told herself to stop being so silly. Glad that for the first time in days that she was yawning and might actually be able to get a good night's sleep, Judy put the book down and pulled the covers overher.

Judy didn't manage to sleep as she had hoped. She didn't know whether she was dreaming or whether it was real, but she soon felt as if she were being fucked like she never had been before. Trapped on the bed by a force so powerful all attempts on her part to move were completely useless, Judy inhaled sharply when what felt like a huge penis penetrated her for the first time. She couldn't move and she couldn't scream, and she had no idea what was happening, or whether this was real or a dream. Eventually the pain ceased, and Judy slept again. 

The following morning Judy awoke unusually late. As she turned to look at her bedside clock she felt a sharp pain in her lower parts, one which she couldn't explain. Thinking no more of it, Judy went to the shower to begin her day. As she gently massaged herself under the water, Judy again felt the pain and nervously let her hands fall to her pussy. It was red and a little sore, and suddenly Judy remembered the book from the night before. Everything was all too clear in Judy's mind and she stood under the shower head in shock when an impossible thought hit home: "My God," she whispered, "It feels like I really have been fucked."

Judy instantly dismissed this foolishness, but only after she checked every door and all of the windows, assuring herself that none of them had been tampered with during the night. She decided that she would make an appointment to see the doctor later in the week and to get on with her day. That was all well and good, but Judy was on edge for the rest of the day, constantly dropping things and forgetting why she had started whatever task she found herself undertaking. By late afternoon Judy was in quite a state and the only reason that she could find for this was that damned book. She picked it up and was about to throw it out, but something told her not to, and instead she lay down on her bed and opened it once again. 

Judy read for hours without realizing that it had turned dark outside. The book told of a strange race known as the Incubi that was believed to have lived in the area surrounding Mount Ida maybe 2,000 years ago. Every one of the species was identical in every way, and the only way to tell the male of the species from the female was by the scaly, 10" penis that each male sported. Judy smiled to herself that she had been right about that penis being abnormal. The book went on to explain how the Incubi had been hunted down and wiped from the face of the earth after a few of them began venturing beyond their normal habitat, with there being one reported case of attempted rape.

The only time Judy stopped reading was when she had to use the bathroom, and when she returned she leapt under the covers, eager to learn more. The new chapter told how male incubi would share fertile females, who were few in number. Judy supposed that this might partly explain why the Incubi looked to mate outside of their breed, but she knew that she was only guessing. The book detailed what it claimed as being proven examples of as many as five males impregnating a female found to be capable of extending their race. Judy took another look at the picture on the inside cover, wondering what it would be like to be fucked by a 10" penis, and drifted off to sleep, smiling to herself and feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. 

It was around 2.00, although Judy didn't know it, when she suddenly awoke. And this time she knew it was no dream. Above her prone body was what had to be an incubi. The fangs, the head, the powerful upper body and the sheer weight of the beast on top of her told her so. A creature that she had known nothing about two days before and according to the book was extinct was in her bedroom and the creature was about to shove his penis in her. Judy's mind raced. She thought of Gary and the night he took her virginity; she thought of the stories of large dicks that her classmates had claimed to have enjoyed; she thought of the previous night and realized that it had been no dream then either. And then she felt the excruciating pain, and simultaneous pleasure, of a 10" penis being rammed mercilessly into her pussy. Judy thought that she would pass out. 

But as the pain subsided, Judy was overtaken by waves of pleasure. She began to react to the beast and, hardly realizing that she was doing so, she began to fuck the beast as hard as it was fucking her. All too soon the incubi raised its head to let out a mighty roar and Judy felt a torrent of sperm flood her pussy. She collapsed, spent, and before she knew it she was once again asleep. 

The following morning Judy woke early. She rushed to the bathroom, reaching it only just in time, and was violently sick. Somehow Judy knew that she was pregnant, and she sat on the bathroom floor wondering what all this could possibly mean. Dazed, confused, and scared, she tried to string together some coherent thoughts but all she managed was to wonder how would she explain her pregnancy, what Gary would say, and how she could be carrying the offspring of an extinct species. Judy knew that the only place she would find any answers were in that book. 

She remembered what she'd read the day before about fertile females being shared by the males of the species, and turned to that same section. She learned that each male would impregnate the chosen female on a series of consecutive nights, with each male fertilizing one egg and no more. Judy instantly began thinking about what might happen later and whether she would receive another visit. She frantically searched for any details of the birthing process but found none. This didn't trouble her greatly – she was more interested in how many 10" cocks she'd have in her pussy. 

Judy virtually ignored her daily tasks and longed for night to come. She remembered too little of the events of each night and promised herself that tonight she would be wide awake. She wanted to experience and remember the whole thing. 

Judy tried everything but she couldn't stop herself from falling asleep. Just as before, she awoke as her visitor thrust his penis into her, and again the huge body and the mixture of pleasure and pain stopped her from seeing anything. At least the pain was less than it had been previously – Judy managed to think to herself that this becoming more pleasurable than she could ever have imagined. Now a willing participant in this nightly ritual, Judy tried to interlock her body with the incubi, but the shape of his body and his thick midsection made it impossible for her to wrap her legs around him as she hoped. The best she could do was to lay back, open her legs as wide as possible and take the 10" that were thrust into her brutishly.

Judy was lost in a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors as she was taken to sexual heights she never knew existed. Her head thrashed back and forth and she screamed vulgarities that had never before escaped her lips. She wanted this to go on forever but, like before, it was over all too quickly. As Judy drifted off she wished that these incubi, however big their cocks were, would learn to extend their victim's pleasure.

On the fourth morning Judy stood naked in front of her bedroom mirror. She turned one way and then the other and she once again knew that she was pregnant, because now her belly was beginning to swell. Her thoughts were again confused, it having been less than a week since the first time she was serviced by the Incubi so she shouldn't be showing yet. But Judy knew that everything that was happening to her was of another world and another time. 

When evening came she spent hours getting herself ready for her visitor, just as she'd done when she and Gary were dating. But with the Incubi there was no holding hands, no slow dancing and no lovemaking: it was just brutal, and Judy thought to herself that she absolutely knew now what it meant to be fucked.

The fourth and fifth nights followed the same pattern as the previous three. She woke up at the very moment the incubi was about to enter her and never before; she was savagely fucked to within an inch of her life with a force beyond her wildest imagination; and after having her pussy flooded with incubi cum she instantly fell asleep. Not once did Judy wonder how each incubi came and left: as long as she was getting fucked like this she wasn't going to think about such details. 

But the sixth night was different. Judy received no visit and awoke only when the morning light began streaming through the bedroom shutters. She felt a crushing disappointment and wondered whether she's done something wrong. Then she remembered that she was carrying the incubis' eggs and realized that somehow, at some time, they would surely return to claim their offspring. In the sheer thrill of it all she's almost forgotten that she was pregnant, but a quick look in the mirror told Judy that this was no ordinary pregnancy – her size and shape indicated that she would be giving birth sooner rather than later. 

Three weeks later the pains began. It was an effort for Judy to do anything, and when her mother threatened to visit, saying that Judy didn't sound well, Judy had to invent a dozen reasons why it wasn't a good time for her. When the pain became almost unbearable Judy took to her bed and prayed that tonight would be the night. She fell asleep, such a sweet relief that she never thought she would experience again, almost delirious with pain.

And then, like those five nights that now seemed like so long ago, Judy awoke to find an incubi on top of her. "God, not more of you" she wailed, but then she thought she saw the incubi's head shake very slightly and its mouth attempt a smile. 

The incubi stepped backwards and placed its huge mouth over her pussy. With a mighty intake of breath that caused Judy to raise herself off of the bed, the incubi sucked one of the fertilized eggs from Judy's body. The incubi stood back, seemed to nod at Judy and his place was taken by another. Judy suddenly noticed that this time there were five of them in the bedroom – this made some kind of sense to her, if anything in this madness could ever make sense. The process was repeated, each incubi inhaling deeply and, quite literally, sucking the life out of Judy, giving her an altogether different sort of pleasure. 

As the five incubi stood around Judy's bed, she could have sworn that they all smiled at her. She summoned the strength to ask some of the hundreds of questions that she's asked herself over the past month, but as she opened her mouth everything went black and she slept once more. 

The following morning Judy was woken up by a loud banging on the door. Scrambling for her robe, Judy raced to the door to find her mother and father standing there. As she hurriedly tied her robe tightly around her waist Judy noticed that she had regained her shape. "Darling," her mother fussed as she barged into the bungalow, "we've been knocking on the door for ten minutes. Whatever's gotten into you?"

If only you knew, Judy thought to herself, if only you knew…

Incubi and Succubi



What would it be like to make love to a demon?

Well, first of all, it wouldn't be anything as tender as "making love." It would be vile and disgusting and, most likely, painful.

According to women who were accused of being witches during the Inquisition's medieval witch hunts, demon seed is freezing cold. One might imagine the effect of a blast of arctic semen at the height of one's own emotional and sexual climax. Such a sensation would tend to put a damper on things pretty quickly, one might suppose.

But sex demons didn't assault only women.

There are two types of sex demons: the succubus, which takes the form of Angelina Jolie, to fuck men, generally while they're asleep, and the incubus, which assumes the appearance of Brad Pitt, to have sex with women, also, usually, while they are slumbering.

Although some Inquisitors believed that the very existence of succubi and incubi is problematic, they tended to keep their doubts to themselves (or to each other), because they enjoyed hearing the alleged witches' bawdy tales of sex with evil spirits of fallen angels. Such tales also gave them an excuse (as if they needed one) to examine the nude bodies of alleged witches for the existence of a devil's mark, which could be just about anything from a zit to a birthmark.

Incubi didn't just have cold ejaculate, but their cocks were huge, too, and sometimes forked, like their tongues, so they could fuck a witch both fore and aft at the same time. (Perhaps that is why they had forked tongues, too, so they could simultaneously perform both cunnilingus and analingus on a witch. Suddenly, sex with a demon isn't sounding all that bad, is it, ladies?)

Unfortunately, during sex, the human participant sometimes caught a glimpse of the demon's true appearance, maybe in a looking-glass, and, well, let's just say that he or she didn't look all that much like Jolie or Pitt, even on one of his or her worst days. In their true forms, these demons looked more like a sodden Lindsay Lohan or Pee Wee Herman getting his jollies in the back of a porn theater.

Another unfortunate result of sex with demons, for women, was unwanted pregnancy. Most women, witches included, didn't really want to conceive, bear, and deliver a devil's spawn, but some witches claimed to have done so. Merlin, the famous magician, is said to be the son of a close encounter of the worst kind. (The child of such a union was known, among Inquisitors and other busybodies, as a "cambion.") According to some theologians, Attila the Hun, Martin Luther, and the mermaid Melusine were also demon children, as will be the Antichrist, who is yet to be born.

Wanting to be spared torture and death, women who were accused of practicing witchcraft without a license tried, on occasion, to trump up some scientific-sounding explanation for their supposed experiences, many choosing to blame the whole affair on waking dreams, sleep paralysis, or the Old Hag syndrome.

Waking dreams are daydreams or, in this context, sexual fantasies. The sex demon existed, according to these explanations, only in the supposed victim's mind.

During sleep paralysis, the brain wakes, while the body remains paralyzed, and the witch can remain conscious but unable to move for hours, which can cause her to hallucinate (imagining that she's having sex with a demon, for example) while she feels great fear.

The Old Hag syndrome manifests itself in the feeling of great pressure upon the chest, as if someone--an old hag--were sitting upon the body.

Unfortunately, none of these explanations could account for the ice-cold semen or the birth of cambions. Some men tried to lend a hand, identifying the bastards who resulted from their rape of an alleged witch as the offspring of demonic seed This explanation also met with some skepticism.

Men had better luck in explaining the wet spots to which they and their wives might occasionally awaken: these were the results not of the guy's masturbation marathon or a nocturnal emission, but the visitation of an incubus.

Sex demons didn't produce their own sperm. They stole it from men, as incubi, and then delivered it to women, as succubi.

Peter of Paluda and Martin of Arles introduced a new wrinkle, so to speak, to the whole incubus-succubus-bisexual demon speculations that passed, during the Middle Ages, for theology, namely necrophilia, arguing that sex demons could, and, in fact, did, collect semen from recently deceased men. Male corpses, for this reason, they declared, should be buried as soon as possible.

Rosemary's Baby is an example of demon sex. If the movie is a reliable guide, sex with a demon isn't pretty. It's forced. It hurts. It's humiliating. It's vile. And, worst of all, it can result in a clawed and fanged cambion who looks much like the film's director, Roman Polanski.

Today, following the advent of erectile dysfunction drugs for men and sexual enhancement creams for women, incubi and succubi rarely rear their heads (or tails), having gone the way of most ghosts in the wake of infrared photography.



Incubus



It was impossible not to notice him as he entered the room; not with that particular air about him that said seducer and womanizer. Someone to lavish attention on and play around with the object of his attention until he grew tired of it and moved on to the next one. The eyes scanning the crowd told her he was looking for something to catch his interest.

One hand absentmindedly pulled the dress lower on her shoulders -- a bit more skin would not hurt in what she was about to do. A moment's focus to put her in the right frame of mind and then the sound of her heels clicking against the floor as she moved over, up behind where he stood. Close enough to stroke up against him and purr in his ear.

"Hey lover. Lonely tonight?"

No more than the quick touch of her body against his back and those words, then back off and wait for the turn that surely would come. It was slower and more measured than expected. She smiled inwardly. He held back, tried to act unaffected, as if it he was used to being hunted down. 

She could tell he wasn't prepared for what he saw. Tousled hair, lips slightly parted as if inviting further exploration, shoulders bared and glinting white against the black fabric. To a casual observer he would seem blasé and almost uninterested - only his eyes gave it away -- that gleam of desire and lust in stark contrast to the calm face. 

It only took turning around and slowly walking off to make him follow. She knew the exact corner to take him to. Secluded enough to avoid most attention. Public enough to tickle his sense of adventure. This was not a man that would go for a closed and hidden away spot -- she got the feeling his tastes were more exotic than that. That the thrill of discovery would rather encourage than make him shy away.

The slight tremble in his body as he brushed up behind her made her slow down. Make him think he's the hunter, she reminded herself -- just a small step forward as if trying to get away. She leaned the head slightly to the side, exposing the neck, as his hands caught her and the arm around her waist pulled her tight against him. The lips behind her ear were soft, the voice slightly clouded from drunkenness and desire.

"Not so fast woman. Don't expect to get away with teasing me like that."

He twirled her around. Those lips were luscious; full and hungry for more. His eyes already glazed over and oblivious to the surroundings. One hand pulled up the layers of cloth in the skirt, lightly brushed the inside of the knee on its way up. She knew he wasn't expecting what he found -- the lacy edge of the stocking, the garter strung taut and then only smooth, soft skin.

The fingers felt strong, yet soft and agile as they lazily slid over moist skin. As he suddenly pushed several of them inside she lost control over her own reactions for a second. The sensation that tore through the lower body pulled her head back and her eyes involuntarily closed. 

"Foolish woman. Thinking you are in control when my mind can see right through what you are doing and your body gives you away in an instant. For a mere mortal you are skilled in your tricks of seduction though, that much I will give you."

His smile was cruel, yet tempting, and a new look in his eyes showed glints of fiery red. The facial features seemed slightly turned. Cheekbones higher, eyes just barely slanted upwards. She couldn't help but wonder if it had been there all along, if she had been too focused on the hunt to notice. Her thoughts spun around themselves at frightening speed and there was a sting of fear inside. Who was he? What was he?

"My true form would only scare you mortal. Do not bother your head with this."

She felt like a helpless toy as he bent her over a chair and flipped the skirt up over her head, blocking her vision. There was no way to resist it, not that she really wanted to. Hands roamed her body, cradling her breasts through the thin fabric. Moments later those pleasurable shivers down her spine mingled with the strain of something far beyond human trying to find its way inside her.

Her mouth opened in a silent scream. One part of her wanted him to go away, remove the agony and pain; the other to go with the desire that coursed through her, beckoning her to give in to it. The laughter inside her head made her none the wiser. It was a woman. She could tell as much by the lighter tone of it.

"I know what you are fighting my dear. It is the same for all when they meet him. The conflict between mind and body."

The voice was filled with equal parts honey and fire.

"Open up to him, to your desires and let him take you on a journey that no mortal man can offer. Your body is ready and willing even if your mind makes you fear he will tear you apart."

The image that appeared in her head - mouth open and cheeks flushed as the young man pushed his hips towards her shot a current of pure, unadulterated craving through her. She needed him, but couldn't help gritting her teeth through the sensation of him finding his way further in. The voice in her head sounded amused.

"Stop battling yourself sweetness. There is no other way to discover than to let him have his way with you."

Another image flashed before her eyes -- her back arched up, breasts rounded and heaving with each breath; the young man throwing his head back as he slammed into her full force. She heard her own breathing, muffled and distorted as if coming from somewhere distant and let herself get carried away on another wave of arousal.

The heat radiating from him felt like a trail of burning coals inside. Then his hands grabbing hold of her hips, pushing her away from him, creating an aching emptiness inside. Only to pull her back again, her body eagerly accepting him again. One. Two. Three. Until she lost count and could only focus on the heavy, pulsating need for release that flooded through her.

One last violent pull back filled her stomach with liquid fire and her ears with a deafening, guttural roar. Nails dug deep into her hips as she struggled to get away from the pulsating heat inside. She couldn't tell if it was just another image planted in her mind or not, not that it mattered as her body melded with the heat and contracted around him as her mind went blank. 



Incubus



Brainstem reticular formation. Medial dorsal and anterior nuclei of the thalamus. The limbic system and the amygdala...the hippocampus. These are but a few centers of desire that I can alter within a select anatomy, the deepest and sometimes hidden component of your soul. The increased pulse, the dampness I sense of your body has been well under my control and this you have allowed. I can produce and adapt to those unspoken needs of your darkest sexuality. You have shared volumes with me already.

We've dealt with the legends of old Europe and the misrepresentations within those societies that due to lack of awareness and, not necessarily blinded ignorance, that tended to cast us as a demonic form. I am very aware of the Judaean writings of centuries past that blamed a certain Lilith as a Pandora that unleashed our kind into your world of dreams. No, my sweet, you have created me---your inner-most desires, hunger and longing for higher levels of sensual expression have merged across and into the spiritual divide that separates us in body only. I am but your own awareness and my power, the part that your psyche has ceded control, is once again here for you. Tonight.

You seem to hold onto an attraction for this one man, your husband, but the energy flow that swirls about you shows imagery of other thoughts. Your dreams and the state of awareness before that REM stage is where you have allowed me to enter. Your innermost feelings tonight...not every night, of course....are now enmeshed with me.

I wish I could know you in your physical world. As aware as I am of the nature and physiology of the part of you that I will soon enter, I wish I knew who I was. Who was my creator? Was I always what I am. Will I die and eventually go back to where I was before I was born? For now, I am sensing your body. Your tanned arms and shoulders. The peaceful face, gorgeous in its sculpture. The sheet tucked over your thighs and along your belly. Though, I have no awareness of feeling touch, the tactile stimulation, that you can understand---yet, I feel your warmth. The capillary pulsations and reverberations of your flesh increasing as I lie with you.

Your hands on their own volition push aside the fabric covering you. I see nothing but light in my world and so the bed is illuminated, your nude body glorious to me. Your lips part and you give a sigh. You are needing me. Your thighs are just slightly spread. Your thoughts now are including a mix of one of your business clients, an attraction toward him and another man you had seen somewhere else. You speak legion of desires for both. I can alter my being into either one and this is why you have allowed me to enter your life, the realm of unspoken need that you would periodically acknowledge in your real world to maybe one friend, periodically to your husband. But you allowed the safety of my world to enter yours, bringing you those deep visceral orgasms that you craved from me.

The darkened nipples now fully erect under the unavoidable chill that I sometimes bring as I merge with you. Something I wish I could prevent but I have tried before to no real avail. Your large, soft breasts; they are magnificent. I enjoy their appearance. My lips and tongue soon to be caressing, kissing your firm flesh there. You are aware more of my presence. Am feeling myself being drawn into you. I will no longer be on just an ethereal stratum with you. I feel the desire from me building as well as we interlock both of our needs. Your thighs have moved outwards, your thoughts creeping closer more to wanting a hard, deep, pounding fuck. Sometimes you wanted a more prolonged pleasure and I can not interfere with any specific desires without upsetting certain neural functions. While your husband can not hear you, that low guttural moan as my large, thick cock enters you is your acknowledgement of my presence. On a primitive emotional level, you knew I was with you when you summoned me. 

The warm flow of something quite hard pressed up high into your pussy awakened the next level of your awareness. Your body lay quite still and would appear that way if anyone happened to gaze upon you. But, within you, your body, your very core was being fucked harder than any man you had ever experienced. The desire you dream of being ravaged by a large cock was particularly pressing for you tonight. Of being turned over roughly onto your hands and knees---his smooth abdomen slapping hard and loud against your ass as you allow me and him to penetrate you. As I fold into your dream, I have become as close to being truly physical and this is the part of I beg to prolong. But your needs are the soul of my existence. You were wanting but just a brief interlude, a generic quick fuck that you periodically enjoyed. Your orgasm came quickly as I sensed you tighten around me. The alteration of REM is something that has proven difficult to manipulate but, then if I could do that, it would take the full power from you and this would never be. I felt myself lighten inside of you, no longer needed for the rest of your night. Feeling my being pulling now further and further away. My sense of control and wanting just you forever fading once more.

I will miss you.



Incubus



Incubus is the closest approximation of what the 'man' is. I was not trying to stick to any 'facts'. There is absolutely no truth to this story and any similarities to anything in real life are purely coincidental. I tried to leave a lot of what he may be to the reader's imagination. Please feel free to use it :). If you think I could improve on something, then feel free to say so...as gently as possible LOL. I'm always looking to improve my writing. Also, a vote would be nice. Thank you and enjoy.

*Edit: Removed that little typo at the end of the story. The mascara thing towards the end kind of bugged me so I added a bit where she applies makeup. If anyone sees anything else let me know. Thanks for all the wonderful comments/feedback :)





Incubus



So she had no choice, no choice at all. Why did it feel like she was trying to convince herself?

"Fine, take your one thing and go, but leave Becky alone no matter what."

A strange weight settled on her heart for just a moment then dissipated. Something told her it wasn't just a coincidence.

"Smart. Bargain struck. Let's go inside." He pulled the door open and started to get out.

"No! You said you'd leave Becky alone!" Makayla's voice was full of desperation.

"And so I shall, but I never said we weren't going inside."

The driver's side door opened and her demented escort held out his hand like some twisted version of a Victorian gentleman even having the audacity to say 'my lady' as he waited for her to exit the car. Makayla took his hand, barely blinking, and let him lead her up the concrete path to her upstairs apartment.

"It seems like you're getting a lot more than one thing." She said as she started to climb the steps.

"It always seems that way, but if I were to decide my 'one thing' was your body for the night, or eternity...wouldn't that still be just 'one thing'?"

Holy shit what had she gotten herself into?

"Of course, I wouldn't waste our little deal on something that was already mine." They stopped at the slate coloured front door. "What, no decorations? Where's your holiday spirit?"

"It's Halloween, not fucking Christmas. What did you mean 'already mine'?" she asked.

He only laughed, leaving her in the dark.

"Why don't you just take your one thing and go? What are you waiting for?" She continued quietly.

"You...to open the door." He answered in a patronizing tone.

"Tell me." She said sternly.

He stood close behind her now, reaching across her shoulder to brush several strands of hair behind her ear.

"You're running dangerously close to breaking our deal, Makayla. My decision is made, but you never said I had to tell you." She didn't need to see his face to know he smiled. "The deal stands open until I'm ready to complete it...or you refuse to cooperate."

Which, she knew without him telling her, would be a breach of contract however unfair it might be. So she would go along with him until he was done with her, but she had no choice right? She was saving her friend she told herself.

Suddenly she could feel his hand twisted in her hair, the sting as he pulled her head back to him, the arch of her back, his breath against her ear, and his cock buried inside her. It was just a memory, but the memory made her knees weak. She wanted him to fuck her. Just. Like. That. That still didn't change the fact that he was dangerous. Actually that just made things worse.

She squared her shoulders and opened the door.

Damien let her enter first, standing back just a ways. For an instant she considered slamming the door and locking it, but the locked door of her car hadn't exactly done the trick of keeping him out. Becky was in the front room watching TV and eating some yogurt.

"Geez Makayla you look worse than you did this morning. Are you OK?"

"Yeah, just..."

She had no clue what to say. She started to make a quick escape when Damien cuffed her wrist with his hand as he stepped through the door.

"Well hello gorgeous."

Becky seemed completely unaware of her the moment Damien stepped through the door, which made sense. He was that kind of gorgeous. No wonder he'd stayed back.

"Umm, this is Damien. He...." She was sure she was a deep shade of crimson, the thought of all the things he'd done to her in her dreams being done with Becky just a few feet away running through her head. Becky was too fixed on him to notice thankfully.

"Mind if he stops by room later?" Becky giggled. She was only joking, the girl was a straight arrow.

Makayla watched Damien shake his head with a slight smile.

"Sorry, one woman guy."

"Ah, well you two have fun." Becky smirked, though there was a hint of disappointment in her voice as she went back to her yogurt and reality TV. "Have a happy Halloween if I don't see you again tonight." She added as Makayla started across the dark hall with Damien trailing behind her.

Perfect! I run into a demon on Halloween night! How...cliché!

He had to be demon no matter how much he looked like a man. The powers, the 'deal'...everything. If her wits hadn't been completely fried there were a thousand questions, things she wanted to know, secrets as old as time itself, but they would remain where they had always been. There was no need to turn on the light this time as they manoeuvred the shadowy passage. The dark already had her.

Without warning he had her back pressed against the door to her room at the end of the hall and his hand over her mouth. He wasn't that much taller than she, but the blackness seemed to be a part of him making her feel tiny trapped between him and the unyielding wood behind her.

"Why don't we start right here, Makayla?" He hissed against her ear.

She shook her head in protest knowing full well what he meant to start and that Becky would hear.

"I know you, Makayla. I've seen the deepest parts of you. I know where your fantasies go when you think you are alone. The ones that you get off to? The stranger waiting for you to cum so he can fuck you as your orgasm turns to pain was always my favourite. A little masochistic are we?"

Her eyes went wide and she jerked her head away. His words painted pictures she would die before sharing, and yet he knew every detail as if she'd performed it just for him.

"Shame is such a useless emotion. Tell me, is it because you don't want to or because you don't think should want to?" He asked, cupping her chin with a feather light touch that sent chills through her body.

Damien turned her head, but she didn't want to look at him. He held a mirror to the ugliest parts of her as far as she was concerned and she did not want to see them. Makayla fought to turn away again and the gentle touch on the soft skin of her throat morphed into iron.

"They're just fantasies." She whimpered.

He released her chin and slowly brushed the back side of his hand down the length of her neck. She closed her eyes taking shaky breaths as his hand moved against her chest and began to trace the swell of her breast.

"You're not the least bit curious?"

Makayla wanted to tell him to stop talking. She was ashamed of the things he somehow knew, and the things she wanted him to do. Every time he spoke it only served to remind her. She thought to tell him to just get on with it, but not out here. Her hand found the door knob and made to turn it.

"Not so fast." He said catching her hand against the cold metal with his left while the right easily found the hardened peak of her nipple beneath the cream silk of her blouse. The only bra she could find this morning was strapless and he easily pushed it down leaving just the thin material against his touch. It only served to enhance it.

She bit her lip in an attempt to stifle any sound she might make while he brushed his thumb across the firm tip of her breast with exasperatingly light strokes.

"I think we should play here for now." He said against her ear before bending to taste her neck. She nearly put a hole in her lip in an attempt maintain her silence when he bit down, marking her.

Even if she managed to keep quiet, which she found seriously doubtful now, Becky could catch them any time. It was Halloween, the girl should be out partying, but it was against Becky's religion or something.

Makayla watched him drop down, felt the moist heat of his breath through the thin fabric of her shirt as his mouth sought the tender bud of her untouched breast, already rigid for him. She tried to squirm away afraid she would cry out but he held her hand fast against the door knob.

"Please..." She said breathlessly trying to ask him to stop. In response his light touches turned to rough pinches between teeth and fingers and she lost her hold on her tongue, cursing under her breath. To much more and she wouldn't care where they were as long as he satisfied the need he steadily stoked in her now.

Before the fear of being caught washed away completely she felt his fingers, cool against the heat between her legs, begin tracing a line from her knee up the inside of her thigh. She put her free hand on his shoulder meaning to push him way but only managed to support herself as she parted legs for him. His touch reached the edge of her panties while his tongue continued to tease the nipple he had captured between his teeth until she was sure she would explode.

"Please not here." She pleaded softly, trying again to open the door.

He just laughed as his fingers breached the elastic of panties. She inhaled sharply, her nails digging into his shoulder as he traced her slit, teasing the point of entry. She moved her hips to press back, wanting more. He stood to his full height then, using the upward motion to slip two fingers inside her. Cool air rushed against the saturated fabric clinging to her rock hard nipple, and she cried out as he seated his fingers to the palm.

"Hmmm, I think she heard that." He whispered against her throat while slowly withdrawing his fingers.

"Please, before she comes." She whimpered.

"You first." he quietly instructed, removing his fingers completely to explore the slick satin folds at the junction between her thighs.

"Oh God." Her breath shook as his touch glided across her clit, his target, and he hit it unerringly. She felt the tension growing in her thighs and spreading out. She started to let go, closing her eyes and losing herself in the building sensation.

"Whoa!"

Makayla's eyes snapped open to find Becky's shocked expression staring back at her. She was mortified while Damien looked perfectly please with himself.

"Hi, Becky." He said casually turning around. He watched with interest as his thumb glided over the two fingers he'd had buried inside Makayla while she frantically tried to pull her skirt down.

"You have a bedroom." Becky snapped as she headed for the bathroom.

Damien turned back towards, Makayla.

"Now, we can go." He smiled down at her after her roommate disappeared behind the door.

"Little late."

"But you enjoyed it."

"No." She protested while he swung the door open behind her, pushing her backwards. "I'll never be able to look at her again."

"Argue if it makes you feel better. I know lust. I've had a few...years...to study it."

Makayla watched the door swing shut, seemingly under its own power, while Damien continued to thrust her towards the bed.

"What else can you do?" she asked nervously.

"Considering I'm not bound by your rules? A lot. But I only want to do one thing right now."

"What?" She questioned on a brittle exhale. It was a stupid question. She wasn't even sure why she asked it.

"Because you want me to tell you...every detail of what I plan to do to you." He pushed her back on the bed and wedged himself between her legs.

Makayla caught herself on her elbows, swallowing hard, as he stripped off her skirt and panties. The rest of her clothes followed until she was completely exposed. She didn't fight. She was tired of fighting. She ached for release and she'd been so close before Becky showed up. She was nearly ready to beg him or do it herself. Now he kneeled before her on the bed, hard emerald eyes holding her in their gaze while his hands braced her knees apart, but he made no other movements. He was waiting for something , but what?

"Ask." he commanded `.

"Ask...ask what?" She stuttered. Maybe begging wouldn't be as easy as she thought.

"Ask me to tell you."

Or he would let her sit there and stew in her juices, dying for his touch. What had he done to her? Whatever it was she was ready to do anything he asked.

"Tell me." she breathed

"Tell you what?" He coaxed her.

"Tell me what you are going to do to me."

He grabbed her wrists in one hand, his tie dangling from the other. When the devil had he even taken that off?

"Bind you, listen to you beg, and then fuck you till you pass out." He chuckled darkly, beginning an intricate knot around her wrists with the tie. He leaned over her to hook her wrists to one of the stems of the flowers in the ornate iron headboard above her. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock against her belly, a taste what was to come.

"Beg? I...I can't." Makayla's face and chest turned a deep crimson at his frank words. Maybe not anything he asked. She couldn't see herself honestly begging someone to fuck her. Or maybe she was baiting him.

She took a sharp breath and angled her hips towards him as he sank two fingers inside her then moved to stroke her clit. So he wasn't going to make her wait after all.

"You will." He said, his breath against her ear suddenly.

"Will what?" she panted.

Makayla rocked her hips, her body tensing for the impending crash, his teeth at her neck quickening the sensation.

"Beg." The word rumbled against her throat.

But he stopped nothing. His touch ushered her ever closer to climax. The intensity built on itself until she knew she would scream and didn't even care. There was no reason to beg. Then it hit her.

Oh god!

She tried to jerk away and he rose to his knees, pinning her thighs down with his hands. The loss of touch caused her to crash in the wrong way. Again she'd come close only to be denied, but she wasn't sure she could handle the price. She futilely hoped he meant to make her beg him to cum.

"No." He answered her thoughts for her. "Desperate pleading is far more appealing than impassioned insistence."

Makayla's eyes went wide. She pulled at the bonds above her head, trying to yank herself away from him, but his grip bit into her thighs and her body did not budge. Not that it mattered; she couldn't get her wrists out of the knots he'd tied even if she managed to get away from him for a moment. She frantically searched for a way to change his mind.

"Guess you're not good enough to make me beg for it like that." her eyes narrowed, a small amount of triumph seeping into her voice.

The corners of his lips turned up that cruel smile she once thought she imagined.

"Wrong sin, love."

The pressure of his hands shifted as he came down on her, his tongue disappearing between the folds of her sex. He wasted no time, his tongue nudging the bundle of nerves at the apex of her pussy driving her to the orgasm she was aching for and now dreading. She'd pushed a lover off more than once when he didn't break away fast enough after she'd cum. The sensation was overwhelming, some fine line between pain and intense pleasure the moment her release rolled over her. She couldn't take it, not in reality. Not now.

"Don't."

It was the only word she could summon as tried to distract herself from the inevitable. Green eyes flashed and she felt him smile against her freshly shaved lips as he continued to tease her swollen clit with his tongue. She fought until reason began to desert her and she had nothing left. Her back arched, nails digging into palms, and she screamed hard enough it hurt her throat as her body succumbed. She lay still for a moment, the aftershocks washing over her in warm waves, but her enjoyment was not to last. Her eyes snapped open when his tongue swirled against the treacherous flesh.

"STOP! Please stop!" She cried when the first intense feeling hit. She writhed, struggling to pull away, but moved little stretched as she was between the headboard and the iron grip he had on her thighs. She begged with pitiful cries but they fell on merciless ears. Her cries turned to sobs, tears tracking dark mascara down her pretty face. Then, in the midst of her agony, tension coiled in her belly. She bucked her hips, pressing her drenched sex against his invading tongue. Her body quaked through another intense climax, confusion and pleasure and anguish coursing through her spent form.

He rose to his knees when she relaxed, taking in her appearance as she lay boneless before him.

"Beautiful." He murmured. "I wonder..."

He probed her still quivering pussy with his index finger until she jerked away from him.

He smiled, then moved aside and flipped her over pushing her to her knees. The hard plane of his chest pressed against her back, clothing discarded at some time, and his rigid cock slipped between her parted thighs when he leaned close to her ear. She was forced to grab onto the headboard with bound hands to steady herself.

"You're lucky I'm hungry. I think I could torture you all night."

"Hungry?" she said slowly, her mouth not wanting to work for her.

He pulled back, leaving her to wonder just what the fuck he meant as she steadied herself on legs that felt like Jell-o. She was recovering, slowly. Her head hung low as she clung to an iron leaf. Her thoughts were just as jellied as her trembling thighs, but there was a warm satisfaction she'd never known before. There was also an emptiness that needed to be filled. She still wanted him, wanted to know what it felt like when he seated himself inside her. She doubted he intended to disappoint her.  

Makayla felt his hands run up the backs of her thighs and across her ass, the nails of his thumbs leaving stinging trails as they dug in causing her to moan. He moved forward and the hard blunt tip of his dick pressed against her entrance. She shifted back, visions of a dream dancing in her head, but he stopped her.

"Lift your head, Makayla." The unfailing control present in his voice all this time was slipping, more growl than speech.

She lifted slowly, distrust and desire battling within her. Strands of hair balanced across her slender neck snaked their way down her back causing her to shiver. His touch grazed her tailbone and followed her spine to her shoulder blades. She arched back towards him, revelling in the gentle contact, when his fist tangle in her hair and he sank into her in one claiming stroke.

"Holy shit!" The initial shock stole her breath and defied description. It was a first time, all the angst, the desire, the fear, the desperate need, and...something else. An intimate touch, a draw against her soul, pure distilled lust, a hundred explanations ran through her mind and none of them fit. The pleasure stopped just shy of the point of pain, but it was sapping what little strength she had left.

He thrust again.

"Oh...my...fuck!" the words tumbled out of her mouth as another wave washed over.

"Is this what you wanted?" His voice was feral, almost unrecognizable.

"Yes!" She cried out as he drove into again.

"Then cum for me, Makayla." he hissed, tightening his hold on her. "I need you, all of you."

She had nothing left, he'd taken everything she had already, but as his rhythm picked up her body responded as if it belonged to him. The rising tide threatened to wash her away.

"Let go, Makayla...just let go."

She gripped the headboard with everything she had whispering, 'oh god, oh god', under her breath. Every powerful thrust pushed her closer to an edge she'd never been to before, and she instinctually fought against it.

"God dammit, stop fighting, Makayla."

Her control slipped in the futile battle. She threw her head back and Damien caught her when she lost her hold, burying his cock deep within her. He held her tight as she thrashed against him, her release coming in violent waves triggering his own orgasm. She vaguely registered his roar and a fleeting thought that Becky was going to give her shit before the edges of her vision began to sparkle and shrink in until there was nothing but darkness.





Incubus



"What did you do to me?" Her voice was brittle, raspy.

"I fed. The after effects will pass. There is one more thing."

She simply waited, too fragile to protest or even ask.

"The matter of our deal."

He stood, still naked, his torso covered in arcane tattoos. She couldn't help but admire them and their canvas as he touched her forehead with his index finger and began to draw...something. He spoke in a language she could not begin to place and then it was over. Nothing changed.

She looked at him confused when suddenly her heart felt lighter.

"Bargain complete. Sleep. You earned it."





Incubus



She lay in bed, staring out her window at the full moon. 

Twice now the incubus had come to her in the night, each time when the pale night orb had hung round and low in the sky. The first time she had begun to struggle, but soon surrendered to the feelings he created in her body. The second time she had welcomed him gladly, opening herself fully to sensation. This time...this time, she thought, she would try to please him as well. His visits had followed the same pattern, the same general actions following each other in a grand dance. She recalled one by one the things he had done to her in their sequence, and her legs spread wider of their own accord.

There was a soft rustling sound, and her bed sighed as a weight settled upon it. She looked into the shadows, and saw a shape near her feet, a menacing, inhuman form.

His hands slid up alongside her, his gnarled fingers with their taloned nails stroking the coverlet over her thighs. She murmured, as though in a dream, and reached out in welcome. He moved up and over her, his bulk obscuring the window and the moon's soft light. His teeth, sharp and pointed, glittered in the dimness, and his breath heated her throat. His lips found hers, and she arched against him, her mouth moving eagerly to accept his tongue. One hand spread wide over her breast, and even through the blankets her nipples leapt to meet his caress. He pulled down the covers slowly, his tongue leisurely exploring the curves of her lips. She embraced his shoulder with one arm, sliding the other down to find the root of her pleasure. He paused an instant as her hand grasped the shaft of his cock, looking down at her inscrutably. She stared up into his hourglass pupils, wondering what, if anything, this creature thought about during their congress together. 

She stroked the length of his member, down to its root, and tickled his balls lightly with her fingertips. There was no hair anywhere on his body, and she closed her eyes to savor the velvet of his skin. His free hand rose again from the blankets, up over her knee, across her thigh and smoothly grasped the mound of her sex. She giggled to herself - the last time, not expecting his return, she had not known to go naked to bed. She had learned better. His thick fingers slid down the crack of her pussy, and she spread her legs eagerly. Gripping his cock rhythmically, she stretched up to nibble along his neck. His hand probed deeper. She arched her pelvis up against his palm, begging silently for satisfaction. One of his fingers entered her, and she gasped against his throat. She was astonished anew by the sensation, for his finger alone was as large, it seemed, as any man's cock could be. 

He began to pump his hand against her, driving his finger in and out. She rocked in response, milking his shaft the while. She whispered to him, not knowing whether he heard, begging him to enter her fully, to let her suck him, all the things she knew would soon come. Orgasm welled up in her, and she shuddered against his chest, pounding her hips against the bed in powerful release. 

As she subsided, he shifted, and she moved the hand that gripped his cock to rest both her hands on his head. She knew what was next, and was impatient. Despite her climax, she was not yet tired, though when he left her she knew she would be drained. He slid down over her, but as he did so, she grasped him by his ears, holding him gently still. She knew she could not hold him if he would not be held - her struggles, that first night, might as well have been against the wind for all the effect they had had on him. But he waited, when she stopped him, and she quickly rose up beside him, then turned and fell again on the bed, her feet to the headboard. He stayed still, when she released him, and so she reached out and gently pushed his head toward her dripping cunt. 

He lowered his face to the curls at her crotch, and dipped his tongue to the well of her juices. She turned her head, and looked up along his thigh to the erection that hung over her. Smiling to herself, she rose up against his leg, and took his balls gently in her mouth. As his tongue entered her pussy she nearly fell back, so powerful was the sensation of his penetration, but she was determined, and leaning on one elbow she gripped his waist with her other arm, holding herself firmly against his hip. She took the end of his cock in her mouth, but realized that she might take no more, it filled her so completely. The driving pulse of his mouth against her cunt was distracting, and she moaned deep in her throat as she ran her tongue around the glistening head of his spear. She pressed her breasts against his belly as he gripped her buttocks and pulled her further open to his searching mouth. 

She sobbed and rubbed her open mouth frantically along his shaft. As again the waves of orgasm filled her, she wrapped herself tightly around his hips, sucking as much of his cock as she could fit between her wide-stretched lips. Tingling waves rolled over her, she felt buoyed up on the tide, but still, she knew, he was not finished with her. Each time he came and filled her cunt three times, and each time he disappeared without relief himself. She was determined not to let him go without filling her with his cum.

Now he shifted again, pushing up on his mighty arms. She stopped him again, just resting her hand on his back, and sat on her heels beside him. He waited dumbly, and she looked at him a long moment. Then, straightening, she pressed her breast to his lips. He opened his mouth to suckle, and she reached down to again grasp his cock. It was hard as always, unchanging in its nature. 

She stroked and pressed, trying to find some alteration in his breathing, some sign that she was affecting him, but there was none. He sucked gently at her breast, and she was surprised to find herself pushing him slowly down beside her, never quite disengaging him, but lowering him onto his back on the bed. He traced her nipple with his tongue, his hand coming up to cover her unsuckled breast. She kissed his forehead tenderly, then rose to straddle him. His eyes opened, and he stared up at her. 

She smiled, and rubbed her pussy firmly over his cock, not yet wanting to hurry the final penetration. Always before he had lain atop her - now she would control the act, and hoped to bring him deep within her soul. He arched a little, seeking to enter her, and she shook her head playfully. Sliding down, she sucked for just a moment, tasting her own juices on his slick skin, then she straightened, and very slowly rose to put just the tip of the pulsing cock into her cunt. He strained, but she rose up with him, not letting him go any further in. 

"No," she said aloud, "my way this time." He didn't show any sign of understanding, but neither did he attempt to change position. Encouraged, she rocked just enough to push another inch of his shaft into her. As before, the sensation of his prick inside her nearly drove her to instant orgasm, but she opened her eyes, gazed at the moon, and slid fully down onto him. Impaled, she paused a moment, resting her hands on his chest. His own hands came up to grip her hips, and she resisted the temptation to let him guide her motion. She swiveled her hips teasingly, and he once more opened his eyes to regard her. She rocked back, reaching one hand down behind her to tickle his balls, and his entire body gave a shudder. 

Her eyes widened with delight, and she began to bounce gently against his hips, short swift strokes to help him find his rhythm. He groaned, and she nearly stopped short. Never before had he made any sound. She stared down at him, and his face contorted in counterpoint to the beat of her hips. She rocked more wildly, bending down so her breasts swung against his chest. He groaned again, and she was startled, when she looked at him, to see his face changing - in the darkness it seemed to her that his features were softening, somehow. 

She pressed on, driving toward his climax, and was rewarded by his pelvis rising to meet her. He clutched at her buttocks, his fingers splayed into her crack. She rode him frantically, pounding against his cock with determination. His back arched, his hands slid up her back, and she gripped his shoulders with taloned fingers. She pressed her breast to his lips, and he opened his mouth to suck hungrily. The tingling of her nipple communicated directly to her cunt, and she gripped his hair in her hands. 

Her wild locks swung about her in an invisible wind, and her fangs pierced her lip with burning passion. She scissored her legs to tighten her cunt around him, milking his soul through his need. He cried out, as his cock throbbed and pulsed within her, his climax taking him deep within her. She felt the heat of his sperm filling her, and sucked deeply at the soul he exposed. Her hourglass pupils gleamed in the darkness as the man beneath her wept in surrender. Her wings spread, the succubus disappeared.



Incubus



Disclaimer: The following story depicts sexual acts between two men. Though unspecified, both participants are intended to be over eighteen. If such material offends you, or you are offended by profanity, please do not continue reading. This story belongs to Timothy Evans and should not be distributed to other sites without expressed consent. Comments and suggestions are welcome and appreciated.



Incubus

Michael sat in his bedroom in his West Hudson street apartment, on his unmade bed in his unkempt room, laptop open, browser logged into his gay dating profile. Naturally, the door being closed, he had his shirt pulled up just above his nipples, his belt undone, pants open, cock erect with that gradual curve toward his stomach. His roommate Kyle wasn't home at the moment, not that he would see what Michael was doing anyway.

He had his browser cued up to some cute kid's profile, a freshman, probably, who wanted "dscrt fun" and "nsa," when a notification popped up. There was a message from hott4u. Michael opened up the guy's profile. 34 years old. Old enough not to open the message. That decided, it didn't really hurt to browse what pics the guy had up.

Short-cropped, mouse-brown hair, blue eyes, and a smile that didn't quite say "creepy stalker." He looked normal, at least. His profile pic showed him in a swimsuit at some stream, completely wet. Michael's cock pulsed, and he stroked it a little. It had been almost a month since he'd gotten any action. A month seemed a long time. The man's profile said uncut, and there was no dick size. Michael smirked. Normally guys posted a dick size so big it seemed it could split his ass open. He was into running and biking and swimming, and apparently also read. Being at college to study English, Michael hoped this meant something more significant than Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol.

Against his earlier advice, Michael clicked open the message. hey cutie ;)

He groaned, but cautioned himself that most people on the internet talked this way. It wasn't a sign that the guy wasn't worth his time. Hey. How are you?

pretty good, u?

Good. Just checkin' out your profile.

o? like it? ;) 

Yeah, you don't seem too bad. What books do you read? 

probably nothing u like. i just finished pearls of grey a few days ago. u heard of it?

No. I'll look it up sometime.

u like reading? i could read 2 u sometime. ;)

Oh boy, thought Michael. He paused for a minute, then decided he could handle some harmless flirting. I'd like that. Maybe we could do some other things too. ;)

He clicked on hott4u's profile again. HIV-, no tattoos, no piercings – Michael fingered the ring in his ear – nothing to make him seem too intimidating. He took a deep breath and looked out the window. The sun was starting to set, casting the brick and steel buildings in a liquid orange hue. His stomach growled.

Hey, I'm starving. You want to grab a slice of pizza? Michael could feel his heart rate pick up a bit.

sure. where should I meet u? 

Why don't we meet outside Veronica's Pizzeria?

cool. be there in fifteen.



The late September air wasn't too chilly yet. West Hudson street seemed to be falling asleep, but as he rounded the corner and walked a few blocks south to Main Street things started to come alive. Cars lined up in front of traffic lights, people crossed streets with only a regard to the conversations going with their companions, and a band played off somewhere down the street, a mix of jazz and rock. 

The pizzeria was across the street from the rest of the shops, on the corner of Main and Clinton. Michael caught sight of the guy and put on a smile. The man was recognizable from the pictures online, but there were subtle differences. His hair was a shade darker, and his face wasn't exactly symmetrical, his left eye being slightly smaller than the right. Still, he was cute, and it might not turn out to be an awful night.

The man smiled and held out his hand. "Hey, I'm Jake." He held Michael's eyes for a moment too long, then looked away. Michael's gaze drifted to Jake's shirt, noticing that it was filled quite nicely. 

"Should we go inside?"

Michael looked up, and his nerves returned to him. "Yeah, let's."

Jake held the door open for him, and the smell of pizza in the oven filled the air. Inside the lights were low, and the walls were painted a pale yellow, with unfinished wood flooring. For a few moments they stared at the menu in silence, then each ordered on his own. They picked up their food and drinks and sat down at a booth.

The seats were red leather, well-cushioned, and a pair of flat screen TVs played an episode of Friends overhead so that each could see. Michael looked down at his bacon-ranch pizza, then took a bite. He looked up at Jake again, reassessing. He had pink lips, a natural pink that Michael found beautiful. Five o'clock shadow covered his cheeks and chin. Michael was glad he decided to see this guy, but he wished he could find something to talk about.

"So," began Jake, "what do you study?"

"English."

"Oh." From the look on his face, Michael guessed that book he mentioned earlier wasn't exactly literature. "Well, maybe you can recommend a book to me. What are you reading at the moment?"

He took a sip of coke. "Well, luckily I've been keeping up on things, so I'm only reading Virginia Woolf's Jacob's Room at the moment. I really like it, actually. I don't always know what's going on, but my professor says that you're not really supposed to."

"How can you read and not know what's going on? That would drive me crazy."

"I thought it would drive me crazy too, but it's actually not that bad. Her sentences are just so beautiful that you're willing to read whatever she writes." His eyes darted up to the TV as Rachel walked onscreen in a fluffy pink dress, but he redirected his gaze at Jake. "What do you do?"

"Oh, well." He put down his pizza and stared at it a bit. "I mostly just file things and enter data at the bank. It's not really a glamorous job."

Michael faltered a second, then smiled in an attempt to show that he didn't care. "Well, what do you do for fun? Besides troll for cute boys, of course."

"I do like to read about magic. Magic magic, like Wicca. Not tricks. I don't mean I practice it, but it's cool to read about. I write stories sometimes, but they're not much."

That wasn't exactly the answer Michael was expecting, but it wasn't like he needed to stick around if things got weird. Besides, he'd already decided Jake was cute, and he wanted to do more than sit around and eat pizza. He wasn't at the point yet where he could ask a 34-year-old man for that, but he could accept if he was asked.

Jake looked at him for a moment after finishing his pizza. "Should we go?"

He nodded, and since permission had been given, they both shuffled out of the booth and shoved their empty plates in the garbage. The air outside had cooled a bit more, and he zipped his jacket up all the way to the neck. Jake walked beside him, hands shoved in his pockets.

"So, where should we go?" Jake asked.

"Um, well, we could go back to my place. My roommate doesn't normally come back until after midnight, so we should be fine." It took a lot less effort to say that than he'd thought, though it came with the realization that he couldn't take it back.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

They walked in silence back to his apartment, steps crunching on the few newly-fallen leaves on the sidewalk. They walked close together. Michael really wanted to hold hands with him, but maybe that was too much for a first meeting.

Michael showed Jake into his apartment, feeling ashamed at the condition of the place. It wasn't really messy, but nothing in there could be considered finished. The floorboards were an ugly light brown with black scuff-marks from whoever lived there before. The couches and chairs and dining table were all second-hand. The once-white walls were peeling in places, and rolls of dust lurked in the corners. Kyle still wasn't home yet.

"This is a nice place."

Michael wondered how much effort that lie took. As they stood there, he was keenly aware that he was 22-years-old, standing around with a man twelve years older than him. Not only that, due to the site they met on, there was a certain expectation for what they would be doing that night, but neither man would act on it. He wished they didn't have to go through the charade of watching a movie, like every other hookup he could imagine. He wanted to reach out and grab him, but he did nothing.

Jake turned to him. "What would you like to do?"

He froze. He really wanted anything but to watch TV, to show Jake he wasn't a boring, normal kid like the rest of them. But he couldn't bring himself to move, to reach out and make that first touch. An idea came to him, and it sounded stupid as hell, but he managed to blurt it out anyways.

"Why don't we go sit outside?"

He led Jake through the backdoor, where there was a small patio by a patch of grass that overlooked the Eruquo Creek. Over the sound of the water they could hear cars on the bridge, and the streetlights across the creek kept the sky from ever going truly dark. Even though it was chilly, Michael sat down, staring down at the water while Jake sat next to him.

"You ever used online gay dating before?"

Michael looked up at him. "Oh, yeah. Not much success, though. You?"

"A few times," he replied, nodding. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment. "Nothing's ever quite worked out, though. Yet."

The wind rustled in the trees, and they sat there in silence again. Yet the silence had changed. Michael found he could no longer willingly break eye contact with Jake. He had a strange feeling about him, a kind of alertness, as if he were a cat waiting to pounce. It held him rapt. "May I kiss you?" Jake asked.

"Please."

Jake leaned in and kissed him on the lips. It lasted little more than a moment, but it was enough for Michael. As Jake backed away, Michael reached out and placed a hand on the back of his head, pulling them together so they could kiss again. 

It would be silly to say that it was a kiss of true love, and that there wasn't anything dirty about it. Even as he tasted Jake's soft lips, Michael was keenly aware of the way his cock pushed at his jeans. He reached his other hand over and started stroking Jake's leg, inching near and nearer to his crotch before pulling away. It was both a tease for Jake and a test of bravery for Michael.

He leaned in closer, and Jake's lips slipped off his own and trailed over his cheek, drifting down over his jaw and clasping his neck. Michael got that sensation that was too familiar by now and yet utterly intoxicating; the sensation that was unbearable almost in the same way that tickling was, and yet incited the most insane waves of lust and desire in him. A moan gurgled out of his throat, one he would have stifled if given the chance. He put his hands on Jake's pecs, feeling the solid muscle underneath his shirt. The sensations pulled him even further from the world around, into the new world that his senses created. 

He could no longer hear the sound of the water below, nor the sound of the cars driving by. Only the sound of his breath mingling with Jake's reached his ears. He was aware of every inch of his body that touched Jake, the knee pressed into the thigh, Jake's lips on his bare skin, Jake's pecs underneath his palms. He tasted only Jake's lips, his tongue, the slick exchange of saliva. He could smell Jake's skin, the faint cologne, completely male. Jake's hands moved over his body in a way that made him so intoxicated that he couldn't see, and when he managed to open his eyes everything existed in a sort of hazy blur except Jake's clear, blue eyes.

Jake hoisted Michael up into his lap and pulled his shirt off. The wind chilled him, and he grabbed eagerly at Jake's shirt, tossing it aside so they could press their bodies even closer. Jake ran a hand through his chest hair, then leaned in and licked his nipple. The feeling was indescribable, delightful, unique, and Michael ran his hands through Jake's hair, feeling a confusing mix of adoration and lust well up inside of him. His cock pressed close to Jake's belly, and he began undulating his hips, under the spell of some divine force.

The thought that he would cum floated up in his mind, but it vanished when Jake slipped his hand down Michael's pants, grabbed his butt and pulled them closer together. Michael shuddered with pleasure.

"Oh God–"

There is that "point of no return," when orgasm is inevitable and imminent. Physically, Michael wasn't there, but mentally he was hurtling down a path he knew well. Jake was thrusting his hips too, as if he knew Michael was on the brink of pleasure and wanted to force him over. Michael grabbed Jake's head and held it to his chest, feeling the soft hair brush against his skin.

"Oh!"

His body convulsed in pleasure. As if pushing past some painful barrier, he came in his pants, each ejaculation coupled with a fierce contraction of his entire body. He clung to Jake, digging his fingertips into Jake's sweaty skin. His cries grew softer as his body spent itself, and he allowed himself to sink into Jake's arms.

Jake smiled and kissed him.

When the kiss finally ended, Michael realized with embarrassment that he hadn't returned the favor. He reached down and started to knead Jake's crotch, but Jake brushed his arm away. "No, I'm okay." He bent down and kissed Michael once more on the forehead. Then he got up and put his shirt on. Michael found he couldn't make himself move.

Fully dressed, Jake looked down at him again. "I'll see you again soon." It wasn't a question. He turned and disappeared around the side of the apartment, leaving Michael, in his jeans and sneakers, feeling naked and vulnerable.

That night, Michael's sleep was restless. He was in a dark void, a kind of hazy grey in which the only thing he could see was a figure floating toward him. It was a man, with black, leathery wings. For a moment, he was convinced it was Jake, but his vision was too indistinct. The figure was naked except for a black sheet that draped from one shoulder across his chest, wound around his back, and snaked between his legs, covering his groin. It flew closer, almost close enough for the features to be distinct, before he vanished into the darkness.



The next few days were useless for Michael. Jake consumed his thoughts. The texture of Jake's skin, the sound of his breath, the taste of his lips, all were permanently etched in his mind. When he went to class, the lectures blew past him, and discussions occurred as if he hadn't read anything. He sat in the corner, quiet and unassuming, looking as if he hadn't slept at all when really his mind was active, constantly considering and evaluating and dreaming and forbidding and distracting and obsessive. When he sat down in his apartment to read, the images of the novels and poetry were intermingled with images of the brown stubs of hair on Jake's chin or his large, pink nipples. It might have occurred to him that such an obsession was unnatural if his mind would rest long enough to consider it.

The only other thoughts he spared were for the dream, and those were few. Almost the morning after he had dismissed the figure's resemblance to Jake as the echoes of a singular encounter given further attention by his subconscious. Still, a thread of his being hoped that there was some connection, that some element of the supernatural did exist in the real world.

Although he had checked his profile several times throughout the week, he hadn't received a follow-up message from Jake. This worried him. He waited for Friday, when he could afford another senseless break from his studies.

Friday came warmer than usual, even going above seventy for one last summer-like day before the crushing cold of winter. It also came with a cooler head for Michael, who wasn't sure when he left his British novel class at two whether or not he would message Jake. But the balmy air could have fooled him into thinking it was spring, and as he walked down the sidewalk over the bridge, he decided they would go hiking. Somewhere they could be alone together, but where the risk that others might walk as well would keep them from going farther than Michael wanted.

Firing up the laptop, he found that Jake was online, hopefully sneaking a peak at his profile while the boss wasn't looking. Michael glanced over Jakes pictures, and he really wished that he didn't have to wait until five o'clock to see him again. He sent a quick message inviting Jake to go hiking when he got out of work, then clicked to a torrent site to hunt for porn. Just a few seconds later his computer buzzed with a message. Michael clicked it open.

c u in 10 or 15, then?

Michael looked at it, puzzled. Don't you have work until five?

nah, don't work full shift on fridays. ill pick u up at ur house. c u soon :)

Michael was about to write back when Jake's profile switched offline.

Wow, that was fast, he thought. Then he realized that the blue light sweater he wore to class wasn't exactly what he wanted to have on. He pulled it off and put on a plaid button-down, the object being to leave enough of the collar open to get Jake looking. He went into the bathroom for a quick moment to wet and comb his hair and brush his teeth, then sat in the living room and tried to read a book.

When the knock at the door came, Michael set down his book, forcing himself to slow down and breathe. He didn't want to let Jake know how much of an effect the other night had, and how easily he had fallen under a stranger's spell.

Jake stood just outside the door, under the steps, wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and a pair of blue jeans with white sneakers. Michael locked the door behind them, and they walked up the stairs to the street in an awkward single-file. "Where would you like to go?" Jake asked.

"I was thinking we could do the City Preserve Trail, the one that goes to Whitegorge Falls. It's not far from here."

Jake smiled and looked at him a moment before starting up the street. For a little while the two walked in silence, the orange and yellow leaves of fall piled up by the street for collection. Cars passed by, the afternoon sun shining on their windshields, and the clear September air filled Michael's lungs. The longer they walked, the more he eased into the silence, comfortable just to share the presence of the blue-eyed man.

"So your classes went well today?"

Michael grimaced. "Not really." He kicked a stone into the grass. "I've been having a hard time concentrating this week. I guess it's just being burned out."

"Oh? Did something bad happen?"

"Nope. Got away with everything. Not one teacher called on me or put me on the spot. I don't know if that makes it worse or not."

Jake chuckled. "Well, I hope you get out of your rut, kid. At least you're still someplace where you can stimulate your mind. There's nothing in my job that could be remotely interesting. You're lucky to still be in school."

"Did you go to school?" They turned off the street at the entrance to the hiking trail, which was nestled in between the row of houses. A gravel path led off into the sunlit woods, and soon the path became nothing more than hard-packed dirt.

Jake looked at him for a moment, then looked off into the distance. "It was a very long time ago. I didn't really study that hard; took a few classes without declaring a major and then decided that college work wasn't for me. I don't know if it was the right decision or not." His eyes fixated on the ground.

The urge to hold his hand grabbed Michael again, and, knowing that nobody would really be spying on them in the woods, he reached out. Of a sort of tacit mutual desire, their fingers interlaced, and he felt that warmth spread from his hand up his arm and into his core, sending a shiver of delight down his spine. 




Incubus



As they walked, Michael tried to pin down exactly what made Jake so attractive. Yes, he had physical beauty, and Michael wasn't so high and mighty not to be pulled in by it, but there was something else, too. Maybe it was the way he held himself, erect and confident, shoulders thrown back in a posture that declared him ready to take on the world. Maybe it was his easy stride, which pulled his jeans tight around his juicy ass with every step. He didn't love Jake yet, but he'd convinced himself that it went beyond lust. There was some deep communion between them, some spell that held them together by the palms of their hands and their interlaced fingers. 

Jake worked his fingers out of Michael's grip, leaving his palm feeling empty until Jake's hand came to rest on his back, then slid lower until it was cupping his butt. He looked up at Jake and smiled, and Jake leant down and kissed him on the lips. He felt his cock growing in his pants.

Jake surveyed the path around them. "Why don't we go and explore the woods a little bit?"

Michael nodded, and Jake guided him through the underbrush. They walked quite a ways away, the ferns and wildflowers too thick around their legs to make a good place to pause. Eventually the growth thinned out, and they came to a small brook running past a mossy boulder. Jake pressed Michael up against the boulder and locked him in a kiss.

For an instant, an echo of his dream from a few nights back flickered in his head. The great creature with the leathery black wings flew toward him, hungry. He stood paralyzed for a moment, lost in his head.

"What's the matter?"

He shook his head. "Nothing." Then he smiled and kissed Jake, sliding his hands up his shirt and feeling the soft fur that grew on Jake's abs. Jake pressed closer to him, grinding their crotches together so that Michael felt his cock pulse and issue a drop of precum. He wished that Jake would take him, here, in the middle of the forest.

Jake slipped off his shirt and tossed it aside, then took Michael's torso in his hands and began licking his earring. He gasped at the sensation, basking in the brush of Jake's breath against his skin. Already his sight was fading as his senses of touch and hearing and smell grew to experience Jake. He felt his own shirt being tugged at, and he lifted his arms to allow his shirt to slip up over his head, and soon they were locked crotch-to-crotch, stomach-to-stomach, chest-to-chest, and lips-to-lips. 

With his hands he explored the muscles of Jake's back, sliding them up and down the length of it before bringing them around to rest on his belly. He fed on the sensation of having something so solid and virile under his palms. Jake kissed him harder still, invading Michael's mouth with his tongue and drinking in Michael's breath. 

Jake's lips slid off his own, drifting down his jaw and neck and chest until they affixed on his nipple. He leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling the cool stone of the boulder against the length of his spine. A smile of delight spread across his lips as Jake flicked his tongue over his nipple, and he stroked Jake's hair, feeling it soft between his fingers. 

He could feel Jake unbuttoning his pants, and his hard cock pulsed in anticipation. He could feel each fold of fabric brush his skin as Jake slid his pants to the ground and hissed at that uncomfortable burst of pleasure when Jake took his cock, still covered by blue boxer-briefs, into his mouth. The moisture and warmth made his cock stiffen to the point where it ached, pulling against the muscles in his groin, and he let his hands fall back to his sides. He wanted to take off his underwear, to feel Jake's lips on his naked cock.

Jake pulled at the back of his boxer-briefs, uncovering just his ass. The way the fabric wrapped around his cock now, Jake could take it into his mouth, and the sensation was unreal. Michael groaned. Jake started feeling up his ass, clenching it with his fingertips and sliding a lone finger up and down his crack. Michael felt like he would burst and forced himself to breathe deep, to fill his air with lungs and calm his racing heart so he could enjoy each delightful touch.

Jake let his cock out of his mouth and stood up. He placed a finger under Michael's chin and leaned down to kiss him. Michael felt his muscles relax and melt into the rock. "You can cum, you know," Jake whispered.

Michael shook his head. "I don't want it to end."

Jake chuckled, wrapping his arms around Michael so their whole bodies pressed together, grasping Michael's butt in his great hands. "Michael. For you, it will never end." Michael basked in the warmth of Jake's skin, his breath, the deep rumble of his voice. Jake hugged him close and planted a kiss on his forehead.

Michael let his eyes close in a gesture of complete surrender. Jake lowered to his knees again, lips level with Michael's cock as he pulled off Michael's soaked underwear. Jake's tongue touched his cock first, and then he groaned as he felt Jake's lips close around it. Jake grabbed his butt again and helped him start thrusting his hips. His cock slid into Jake's mouth. He felt the way Jake's soft hair brushed his belly, the way his fingertips burrowed into his crack. His cum welled up inside, struggling to break free.

He submitted to orgasm. His body shook with each electric shock, waves of pleasure crashing in his groin, sending his brain reeling. He cried out, too far gone, too far lifted out of his skin by the pleasure of orgasm to be aware that there might be anyone in the world besides himself and Jake. He felt transported.

He came down off his high and opened his eyes to see Jake still on his knees, smiling up at him. "God, you're amazing," he breathed.

Jake smiled. "You're beautiful when you cum."

Michael didn't know what to say. 

He stood there letting his lungs fill and empty, looking down at Jake. His eyes drifted to Jake's crotch. "Should I finish you off?"

Jake chuckled and shook his head. "We can do that some other time." He got up and gave Michael a long kiss, then stared into his eyes. "God, you're such a beautiful boy."

That night, Michael had the same dream. A strange figure flew toward him in the darkness, a lean man with shaggy hair and black, leathery wings. The creature took him up into his arms, and Michael realized that he was naked. They kissed, and Michael felt an unearthly sensation, as if they were fusing together through a channel formed by their lips. And like all beautiful, transient things, the kiss ended before Michael could register his bliss, and the demon flew away, leaving him naked and cold.



Saturday and Sunday passed, and Michael heard nothing from Jake. Monday he didn't even bother going to class. Jacob's Room laid on the bedroom floor amongst discarded socks and gym shorts, and Michael remained curled up in bed, naked body swirled in a comforter and laptop cued up to a porn site and his profile. Subconsciously he clicked back and forth. No messages.

His stomach growled. If he did notice, he didn't do anything about it. He couldn't. If a stranger walked in, they would have found a distance in his eyes that showed his mind dwelt in a realm far from reality. He didn't even look up when someone walked in his room.

"Michael."

He froze. A smile grew on his lips. Jake.

He laid there, still, alert, not looking, while Jake climbed into bed with him. Michael felt the soft fabric of his shirt brush against his back, the coarse denim brush his leg. Jake pressed a hand to his chest, and Michael felt him kiss the back of his neck. He shuddered.

"Michael," Jake whispered into his ear, "I want to give you something. You must come with me. Don't be afraid."

Michael nodded.

There was a sickening rush of motion in which his bedroom shrank into the distance, to be replaced by clouded skies, tall pines, and hard rock. He lay on cool granite, and he shivered violently. 

"Don't be afraid," Jake whispered, lowering his body onto Michael. "I will keep you warm."

He kissed Michael, soft, cradling his head, and as he pulled away he took Michael's lower lip in his teeth and bit. 

Michael yelped.

Jake sucked on his lip a moment, then grinned.

Michael couldn't say a word, but he tasted blood. He reached up and brushed his hand against Jake's stomach, slid the black and blue plaid fabric up and touched his tight, hairy skin. Jake undid the buttons one-by-one, and Michael waited in anticipation to see his large, pink nipples.

Jake laid down, letting his open shirt blanket them while he kissed Michael hard. Michael kneaded Jake's muscles, felt in his hands the solid meat, and his cock grew. Jake kissed Michael on the cheek, the jaw, the neck, biting and sucking while he undid his jeans and slid them over his cock and ass.

Above them, there were sounds of thunder, and it started to rain. Michael laid there, feeling the water beginning to run under his back, while Jake ran his lips down his chest, his stomach, to swallow his cock all the way. Michael groaned and stroked Jake's dark hair.

Michael writhed under the force of Jake's tongue. He was too aroused, too far gone to be able to handle the sensations. Each time Jake licked his head, he convulsed, and desperately he tried to push Jake away. 

Jake resisted, and Michael could only cry out as Jake pressed his finger at Michael's hole. While Michael laid there on his back, Jake left his cock and moved to his balls, taking both of them in his mouth at once, while pumping Michael's cock with his other hand.

"Oh god," said Michael. "Stop, stop. I'm going to cum!"

Jake released him. The pressure subsided, and he calmed down enough to remember the rain falling on his face and chest. Water pooled around his fingers, and he was dead cold.

Then he felt Jake's warm breath on his hole, and before he knew it Jake was rimming him, tongue flicking back and forth. He relaxed into it, absorbed the warmth and the energy and felt his cock growing even harder. Jake sucked on his fingers for a moment before pressing them to Michael's hole, and Michael cried out as he felt himself stretch and take them in. Jake slid his fingers in and out, a gentle, rhythmic motion, while he kissed Michael's legs.

Michael closed his eyes to keep out the rain. He breathed deep, pulling in great amounts of air in an effort to relax. When Jake took his fingers out, he sighed in relief, but tensed again when Jake lifted Michael's legs and pressed his cock against Michael's hole. He urged himself to relax, to accept, and Jake pressed harder, slid in further.

"Oh god. Wait."

Jake ignored him, pumping slowly, in and out. Michael cried out as though he were being torn apart. Each time Jake pushed in all the way, his hole tensed and his cock pulsed. It was pleasure, but it was pleasure taken too far. No other man had fucked Michael with such intensity. The two of them locked eyes, and Michael found a strange determination in Jake's eyes. He watched as the blue irises clouded, became purple, and then glowed a fiery red.

"My...god," Michael gasped.

Jake fucked him harder, harder, to the point where Michael screamed in pain, and Jake kept going. He started growling, his muscles rippling, and then he started to change. Two of his teeth grew and became fangs that hung over his lower lip, and with a growl ivory horns burst from his temples. Michael watched, and he was afraid, and helpless.

Jake closed his eyes and leaned back, pumping even harder into Michael's hole. With a howl, he raised his face to the clouds, and black, leathery wings erupted from his shoulder blades, sweeping the rain away as they burst open. Michael felt Jake's hot seed shoot inside him, and with it came a numbing sensation, a pleasure mixed with terror.

Jake howled himself hoarse while the rain continued to pour around them, and Michael felt his consciousness slipping away. Jake bent over him, pressed his lips to Michael's forehead. The last thing Michael remembered was Jake's eyes, now golden, staring into him, digging into his soul. They were beautiful.

"Sleep well, my love," Jake whispered.

Michael's world went dark.



Incubus



It's a dark and stormy night that promises Laura a chance to unwind after a long week with her flatmates at a club. Laura's a typical mid-twenties UK girl. Good job, a circle of close girlfriends/flatmates and her whole life ahead of her. She is very attractive, tall and statuesque brunette with a flashing smile. Men of all ages cast their eyes on her in appreciation. Her hopes include a husband, kids and a career. She has an active and imaginative sexlife but is not considered by any who know her to be promiscuous or slutty.

There are always other friends and regulars in the club so Laura circulates freely about the place, chatting and dancing. One of her favourite songs plays and so Laura takes to the floor. She has admirers in the club who steal glances as she moves to the music. One does more than steal a glance and watches her intently.

The incubus Lugalbanda watches Laura dance. She is the one! For better or worse the world is about to change. Two sons attained greatness but their lust for women or a woman ultimately led to their end. Gilgamesh's "lord's right" law, oppression and excesses caused his people to beseech the gods for help. When he spurned Ishtar his fate was sealed. Lilin cannot fight gods! And their cambion offspring should know better! Merlin gave all his power to a woman he lusted for. And a darkness descended on the world as the realm that he had engineered fell.

Lust! An emotion Lugalbanda was all too familiar with. Perhaps it was because they were male offspring? A female offspring might be able to balance lust and great power. Yes, a daughter could do it, thinks Lugalbanda. He watches Laura dance. She reminds him of Gilgamesh's mother, Ninsun.

Laura has had a couple of drinks so when she catches the eye of a tall man, in a black wool hat and long pea coat, watching her she gives him a small smile. He laughs and raises his glass to her. Feeling safe in the company of her friends and familiar place, Laura approaches the man.

"Hi, nice coat. My name's Laura. What's yours?" she asks over the club music.

"Thank you! Pleasure to meet you, Laura. My name? My name is Legion." the tall man replies and smiles, "but you may call me Lugal."

"Lugal, that's an interesting name," Laura asks, "Where does it come from?"

"It is an old name in my land from the earliest memories of man and ancient Sumer," the incubus answers.

"Cool, I would love to hear more," Laura says.

"And you will. But not here and now," Lugalbanda tells her. He drains his pint and puts the empty glass on the bar.

Realizing this most interesting man is about to leave, Laura keeps up the conversation. "Where and when then?" she asks. Thinking a nice dinner and some good conversation maybe in the offering.

The incubus disappoints her hope for a date. Lugalbanda reaches out and cups Laura's chin. "Between reality and dream when the storm rages," he promises as he looks her in the eye, "We will continue this...er...intercourse." The incubus demon smiles evilly, his hand moves from Laura's chin tracing her jawline and neck. "Lovely," Lugalbanda says and turns and leaves.

Laura is surprised. She is not sure what she is surprised the most about, that she approached him so openly and, finding him fascinating, wanted to see and know more of him or that he denied her, touched and left her so suddenly. She isn't usually so forward and men don't usually walk away from her either. Looking perplexed Laura returns to her table and friends.

"Who was that?" they want to know.

"I don't know," she replies, "He said his name was Legion and we would...talk some other time."

"Gees, Laura! The way you went up to him, we thought you knew him. Then we thought he was going to have a feel right then and there!" her flatmates laugh.

"He was not going to feel me up!" Laura retorts. Sure at the time he would. "Do you think I would let some stranger cop a' feel?" she asks, a bit testily. Not so sure now that she would have stopped him had he tried. Laura finds herself breathing a bit harder and feeling flushed. Stating, "I need a pee," Laura flees to the ladies room.

Locking herself in a stall, she hikes up her dress, pulls down her panties to her ankles and sits down. Laura doesn't have to pee.

She puts her hand between her legs and runs her fingers through her pussy lips. Laura moans lightly. "God, I'm so wet. How did he do that? Was it his touch? We didn't talk much. Why did he leave? Where did he go? I had control of my drink all night. No way anybody slipped me anything. It's like he put a spell on me. What's happening to me?" thinks Laura. Wantonly she masturbates in the club toilet. Slipping her dress and bra straps from her shoulders, Laura exposes her large breasts. Her nipples are hard buttons as she runs her hand over her breasts. Mercifully, Laura comes quickly and heavily. "Lugal", she whispers as she orgasms. She trembles and her toes curl hard. Laura lifts her wet fingers to her mouth and licks them clean as she comes down from her orgasm.

Not sure if she feels any relief from her emotions, Laura puts herself in order. Exiting the stall she brushes her thick hair, redoes her lipstick and gives her bosom an adjust. Looking at herself appreciatively in the mirror, Laura says to her reflection, "Slut, where did you come from?"

The rest of the night is spent mostly on the dance floor. Laura dances with an energy and movements that surprise her friends. After a work week and a night of drinks and dancing her friends are knackered but Laura practically dances in the rain after the club closes.

Laying naked on her bed, Laura googles Lugal on he phone. She is pleasantly surprised to find it is indeed an ancient Sumerian civilization name. At least her stranger wasn't feeding her a cheap pickup line. Lugal means literally "big man" in ancient Sumer. Laura smiles at that note and hopes it's true. Apparently a Lugalbanda was a famous person in ancient times. She bookmarks the pages and places her phone down.

Laura gets up and locks her door, wanting privacy. Reaching in to her nightstand table she pulls out her ladies best friend. Her choice of dildo is quite large and realistic looking. Big man in Sumer, eh? At the moment Laura wants a big man in her. Not even questioning why she is so horny, Laura puts the large cock to use. Much later, she rolls over and falls asleep.

A flash of lightning lights the room. Lugalbanda comes from the shadow created by his storm. Taloned feet and spurred legs with horns and wings the storm demon stands over Laura's bed half filling the room. Reaching out a large clawed hand he pulls away her bedcovers. His erection is as long as half a full grown mans arm with a fist sized gland.

Laura lays on her side curled up, her sex revealed. Lugalbanda leans his muzzled face close and takes in her scent. He takes in her scent through flared nostrils and open mouth. A forked tongue flicks out to lightly brush Laura's pussy lips. She stirs and moans. The demon moves his muzzle up to Laura's face. Leaning close he exhales and growls low. Laura inhales deeply, her eyes begin to move rapidly under her closed lids. She stretches out and rolls on her back.

***

Laura is only slightly surprised to find her mystery man sitting on the edge of her bed. That she is naked and totally exposed to his view doesn't even cross her mind. She does notice his erection. He is a big man she happily realizes.

"Hi, how are you?" Laura casually asks, "What brings you here?"

Lugalbanda reaches out to trace her and neck. His hand does not stop there but continues down to caress Laura's breasts before moving to between her legs. Laura's legs part slightly to allow him access. His hand softly caresses her pussy and clit.

"I come to make you an offer. An offer to fill your dreams. Success, riches, fame, children, power! To do with as you will. You could be a higher than a queen," Lugal promises. He slips a finger inside Laura as he speaks.

"And I thought you just wanted to fuck me!" Laura wantonly replies as she moves her hips to grind against her lover's hand.

***

The incubus fucks Laura with a taloned finger. He leans over her, his forked cat rough tongue licks at Laura's breasts and face then it hisses in her ear.

***

Lugalbanda leans over kisses her breasts and face then whispers in Laura's ear, "I want to do more than fuck you. I want to lift you up. I want to raise you to the level of a demi-goddess! I am Lugalbanda. I am Lilu." His finger and hand fuck and rub her cunt hard. Laura moans and trembles under his touch. As she reaches out to grip her lover's cock, Laura hears one of her flatmates stub her toe on the way to the loo.

***

Laura snaps awake, momentarily unable to move or breathe as if a weight was on her chest. Outside a crash of thunder and stroke of lightning rattles the walls and casts distorted shadows in her room. Laura sits up with a start.

"No!" she exclaims, reaching out to the dark. She pants and moans. A knock at and rattle of her locked bedroom door brings some clarity to her thoughts.

"Laura, are you ok?" asks her awake roommate through the door.

Laura looks about her in the dark. A weaker lightning stroke lights the room enough for Laura to see she is alone. "Yes, yes. I'm fine. It was a dream," she replies, "It was just a dream and the storm." She searches for the bedcovers in the dark. Finding them on the floor in one pile, she reaches out and grabs the comforter. Scrunching up under the cover, Laura tries to recall the dream. But like many dreams the recall of it eludes her.

Laying there, she recognizes the just fucked feeling. Her hands reaches to her pussy. It is a little sore and soaking wet. All curled up, Laura softly and slowly rubs her wet pussy and clit. She falls in to an exhausted dreamless sleep with her hand between her legs. In the moment of falling asleep, Laura whispers, "Lugal." 



Incubus



It had been a bad month for Shelley. The break up had affected her badly, more so because she was still unsure why it had happened. She was hurt because, while she had thought things were going so well, they obviously were not and she had not known. It is difficult, when you believe that you can read someone like a book, to discover that their emotions are written in a language that you could never understand.

The cure was simple. Work, work and more work. Plenty of work for good nurses and Shelley was a good nurse. Shelley cared and if caring for others meant that she could care just a little less for herself, at this time, that suited her fine. When she hurt a bit less inside, she would take the time to work through those feelings.

The conference had been, however, a bad idea. Shelley had, in the past, attended many of these events. She had found them, usually, not only informative, but also very convivial and social. There would usually be a number of delegates staying at the same hotel and, very often, it would give her opportunities to make new friends or renew old acquaintances. This time it was different: the subject matter was orientated far more towards management and administration; the attendees were a different type of people to those which Shelley was familiar with and, through an unfortunate booking, her hotel was some distance away and she seemed the only person from the conference staying there.

So it was that Shelley arrived back early at the hotel and alone. Then she had a piece of luck. In the hotel lobby she met a man, older than her, much older and also checking into the hotel, alone on business. He was friendly, pleasant and charming with an old world courtesy – a gentleman. It seemed natural for them to share their evening meal together and, for the duration of that meal, Shelley was, for once, able to forget her troubles. The wine helped.

It was a pleasant evening with pleasant company. Her companion said goodbye to her most graciously at her door with a kiss on the back of her hand, which Shelley found quite enchanting. The thought of inviting him in and seeing how things might progress certainly occurred to her, but that seemed like pushing a relatively brief encounter just a little too far. She though he might also be shocked and she didn't want to spoil the impression she believed she had made with him.

Getting ready for bed, she began to regret being alone in her single room. Dressed only in a most revealing nightie, she had the sense of an opportunity lost. In the mirror, she knew she looked good and longed to be seen and to arouse a man in her room, in her bed, in her arms and, finally and most desirably, to feel him aroused and released deep inside her.

She sighed, settling down within her bed to sleep. When she had shut the door of the hotel room, there had been a comforting 'click' as the lock engaged but, ever conscious of being a woman alone, she had locked the door again from the inside. It was dark and quiet inside her room and she felt tired – the wine she had taken with the evening meal had relaxed her and, in nearly no time at all, she had fallen fast asleep.

* * * * *

Shelley awoke, sometime in the night. It was dark and difficult to tell what time it might be. Waking in a strange room she felt disorientated, the shadows unfamiliar to her. Slowly, as her sleepy mind began to make sense of the subtle differences in the dark shapes she could see, she became aware of one shape that was not right ... that should not be there.

Down at the foot of the bed there appeared to be the outline of a figure, dark and still in the night. Shelley held her breath, listening, but could only hear the sound of her own heart beating. She wished it would be quiet: she was not afraid, but she was very very unsure and did not wish to draw attention to herself by the slightest sound or movement.

The continued silence and stillness reassured her a little, but also seemed to cast a spell over the situation. Perhaps she was experiencing something personal and private and there was no one else in the room, just her and her imagination. She began to believe that her mind was just creating from it's own fears and uncertainties, an illusion from the shadows and this was just a trick of the poor, almost exhausted, light. She felt more confident, allowing herself to breath easier and her mind started turning again, exploring her feelings. Now she knew that it could not be a man, she began imagining to herself that it was. Who was he? What was he doing here? Did he know I was in here? The thought of a man, dark and unknown, in her bedroom, with her dressed only in the flimsiest of nighties and so defenceless beneath the sheets was exciting in a dangerous kind of way. Perhaps he wanted her?

And then the shadow moved and her heart missed a beat.

It moved not suddenly, not even very noticeably and not in any way that made it more human in appearance - no arms appeared in the shape, and the shape itself did not change. It just slowly began to sink, lowering quietly towards the foot of the bed. Like a man, kneeling.

Shelley's heart, which had calmed after it's initial shock, started beating faster again. No harm had yet befallen her and she had stayed quiet. Certainly there had been no sudden threatening movements - no sudden movements at all. Perhaps this man would come and go, believing her to be asleep, and in the morning, when she awoke, she would find something missing (to be sure, there was nothing of any great value here) and would report it to the Hotel as people did and they would be nice and apologetic and would give her a form to fill in and that would be that. All she had to do was stay asleep.

And then she felt the bedclothes at the foot of the bed lift.

'Oh No!', she thought. 'This can't be happening.'

Stay asleep.

She felt his fingers first on the inside of her ankles: a cool, but not unpleasant touch against her bedwarmed flesh. It was soft and gentle. More gentle pressure parted her legs and she felt warm breath against her inner calf. She found it difficult to believe that he, if it was a he, could still think she was still asleep, but she felt it unlikely now that any harm was intended towards her … maybe quite the reverse. Not sure if she was willing, not sure whether to be unwilling would be a good idea. She had to believe it was a man, but she could not be completely sure.

She lay still, but less worried now about appearing asleep. Now she stayed quiet, not wanting to startle him, afraid he might stop were she to make a noise. She felt a soft kiss on the inside of her left knee, towards the back – it tickled a bit and made her open her legs wider. No one had kissed her there before. She started an encouraging moan, but converted it to a sleepy sigh before it could be properly discovered. 

She was going to wait and see what happened. She had a deliciously exciting idea of just what that might be – the fear, although most culpably present, seemed to spice the situation more agreeably than she would have expected. There was still a dream quality that had not yet been broken. She had a half-belief that this was, indeed, some kind of dream and that some sudden noise or movement on her part would shatter it – she was not sure she wanted that to happen.

Of course, if her mysterious lover continued in this way, he must soon arrive at her pussy. She thought of that pink little target between her legs and felt it moisten with her anticipation. She was wearing nothing under her nightie – thinking of her unwitting foresight pleased her. She thought of how he had come to her in the darkness and why he had to hide so. Perhaps he was ugly, deformed. Shelley started to think about a nine-inch tongue and got wetter.

And then she felt his tongue, just above her knee on the inside of her thigh a warm wet touch, which she imagined to be the tip. Slowly it moved up to the middle of her left thigh and then paused. She felt a soft kiss at the point where the tongue had stopped and then another kiss on the corresponding position on her left thigh … and then the tongue again, moving higher. She felt his hands moving along the top of her legs. She felt herself weakly surrendering to the situation.

As he reached her crotch, she felt his thumbs move down along the crease where her legs joined the flesh framing her moistening slit. Again pressure opened her legs wider and soundlessly she complied, now feeling his warm breath entering her intimate openness. Oh, so moist! So very very ready!

But he paused. Shelley waited, expecting to feel his mouth pressed up against her wet vaginal opening, longing for his tongue to penetrate her slick slippery hole. The quiet anticipation in the darkness of this strange man's actions was almost unbearable. Why was he waiting? 'Oh Please!', she thought and moaned quietly once in frustration.

That seemed to do it. Suddenly she felt his mouth pressed against her mound, his lips moving against her flesh trying to uncover the entrance to her hot moist interior. It was not difficult, she opened up with a grateful release, offering up her secret juices to this unknown lover and felt his mouth take her in the darkness beneath the covers. Soft and wet and eager, she felt her inner substance, her heat and moisture taken and consumed hungrily by the unseen face between her thighs. As her pussy opened up, so did her eyes … and her mouth … and her sudden awareness that this was not a dream!

This felt less like a man … more like a driven animal seeking sustenance. She could not doubt the reality of the thirst that he had for her. There was less attention to her swollen clitty than she would normally like, but this was not a normal encounter and the tongue working inside her was most voracious, excavating deeply and the apparently accidental, but quite frequent, brushing of that swollen nub seemed somehow so much more exciting than any deliberate concentrated act. Small orgasmic pulses hit her nervous system.

It was wild. She moaned and writhed not caring anymore who the intruder may now be. She knew she was being taken by some wild beast, manshaped, but not driven by normal lusts. This was just too good and she was lost in the erotic magic of the moment and the personal tremors and sensations shivering her body. Despite the very real presence between her legs, the silence and the darkness in the hotel room in which she knew she should be alone made this seem a private thing, some kind of involuntary masturbation.

Whooo! Suddenly a bout of concentrated sucking and licking of her hitherto neglected and oh so aroused and sensitive clitoris moved Shelley into another phase of physical pleasure, orgasming out of any remaining illusions that this could be a dream. So aroused, in fact, it was almost more than she could take and she was relieved to feel the tongue pass over the bud, out of her slit and into the well groomed triangle of pussy fur.

It was still sometime, however, before she could collect her thoughts sufficiently to think about what was happening to her. She moved her hands down over his body, moving up over hers. His tongue and mouth kissed and licked over her lower stomach, the tip of his tongue dipping into her navel. She ran her fingers through the hair on his head, full, short and soft, down to his shoulders, broad manly shoulders. 'It is a man!', she thought. His hands she could feel gripping her hips, pulling his body up between her legs on top of her.

The muscles of his upper back felt fit and toned, she moved her hands down his back feeling the strength of the stranger who was ravishing her so anonymously. Unknowing the who and why, she knew that she was going to let him do whatever he wanted.

His tongue licked the valley of her breasts, a gentle kiss and then the lips moved sideways up the curve of her breast towards her left nipple.

She could feel his hips now between her legs, opening her wider still. Her imagination saw his cock, thick and long, swollen with lust, the head thick and slippery with oozing precum homing in on her wet open and exposed vagina. She could not see, but knew it could only be a matter of time before she felt it's size pressing up inside her. How thick? How long? When? 

He sucked her left nipple, already proudly erect, into his mouth, his tongue teasing the tip. Her pussylips already expectantly open felt the nudge she had been waiting for and she drew her breath for the inevitable invasion with a mixture of eagerness and dread. His tongue traced a path across her pink flesh joining her nipples and she moaned as her right nipple was drawn between her lips.

Feeling his back arch above her, lifting the bedclothes and bringing his pelvis up towards her, she felt the hard flesh of his member slide slickly into the tight embrace of her cunt. It felt full and snug lodged inside her opening. She sighed as his body moved again on top of hers, his mouth now following the gentle curve of her breast up towards her throat and his cock, less gently pushing deeper up inside her love channel.

'Oooooohhh!' This time she did moan, quite loudly, quite audibly. The ready openness of her wet pussy had misled her appreciation of his true girth. She felt her uterus stretch more fully than she had ever felt before and it hurt. The initial pain triggered a succession of smaller sensations, more pain, pleasure, and some incredible urges. 'Rape!', she thought, unsure if this could truly qualify, unsure if she cared. She knew she was being taken, most forcefully, most satisfyingly. She moved her hands down his muscular back trying to pull him deeper inside her … and deeper inside he went opening her up further, lubricated by her juices flowing generously around his manhood. It was long and thick; in her minds eye unfeasibly so and filling her now so comfortably.

She gasped feeling him invade her private moist depths deeper, his mouth now at her neck, his cock now firmly embedded inside her. Feeling the real physical reality of the body whose weight pressed against hers, which was fucking her so completely and yet which, in the darkness of the room and anonymity of her mind, was so completely invisible; was so strangely erotic. Seduction without sight nor sound. Rape without violence. Sex without a partner she recognised. Not even sex with a stranger, for a stranger could be recognised as such.

She could feel his cock fucking in and out of her body, his hands on her hips gripping, tensing, relaxing slightly with the rhythm. She felt herself, her body, meeting his rhythm with her own, mutually fucking him, helping him to fuck her. Somehow, in the anonymous darkness, all the inhibitions that she now knew her body had shown in the past disappeared. There was no love or lust here, but there was sex – sex of a pure animal nature that had no need for face or identity, just a hard cock and a willingly welcoming cunt.

'Ooooooooh! Fuck me! Fuck Me! Fuck, Fuck, FUCK!', she cried, as she felt the sensations building within her and the urgent hard thrusting between her thighs.

The man grunted and moaned, but made no words, just increased the tempo so that it seemed his prick was flashing in and out of her wet pussy, driving in to the hilt and pulling back, almost out, until slamming deep up inside her again.

And then it happened. The tempo changed again, but ever so slightly and she thought she felt his cock thicken within her lubricated tunnel, before erupting deep and satisfyingly into the warm darkness of her body, his gloriously anonymous semen thickly splattering the walls of her womb. And she came also, so completely, so absolutely, that for a while she forgot who she was or where she was or any of the other realities of this unreal situation.

And while she was in that state, he kissed her. It was a full kiss, on the mouth. She did not notice at the time, only remembering it later. Earlier she had dreaded that he might do that, afraid that in that moment, with his face so close to hers, that she might somehow, even in the darkness, recognise who this was and that, she knew, would spoil it all. It happened, so perfectly, at the moment she was beyond caring.

She remembered him holding her then, tenderly, his cock still oozing sticky cum inside her, her face against his neck, scenting the aftermath of his exertion. He talked to her gently in the darkness, but she either did not hear, or did not remember the words. And then he left her, with a tender kiss that she returned.

She must have drifted off to sleep, for the next thing she knew she was awake again. It had not been a dream: the state of her bed, the state of her body, the state of her mind told her that. She got up, shakily, and showered. In some kind of shock, she thought there was something she should do, but was unsure of what that might be.

A lover had come in the night, possessed her and left. No names, no telephone numbers, no face to remember. She wondered if she might be pregnant. She wondered if, despite the physical evidence, it might still be a dream. She wondered if she should leave the hotel quickly, or try to find out more. She compromised and asked reception about the man she had dined with the previous evening. The hotel was, initially, reluctant to help, having a policy of not disclosing details of guests. They relaxed, when they realised that, from the little information she was able to give, they couldn't really tell her anything anyway.

She did not believe the man capable of the night's activities. He had struck her as a kind fatherly figure: a businessman, greying at the temples, not much like her own father who never looked at his best in a suit, but certainly like the fathers of some friends of hers. Of course, she could not remember the name and she did not remember the room number, if she had ever known it. They had split the bill, each charging to their rooms and Shelley had nothing to even prove she had not dined alone. She could not remember the waiter, so was unable to find the waiter who might remember her and the man she was with. She did not, in any case, think the man was the type to pick the lock of her hotel room.

She was not pregnant. Without a name or a face to remember, in time, the entire experience itself became, for her, vaguer and difficult to believe (even her behaviour was completely inexplicable – unprotected sex with a stranger, she knew better than that!). The reality itself became a fantasy with which she would often excite herself and sometimes embellish. She knew she could never share this. To share would be to be disbelieved and Shelley was too close to not believing it herself to ever risk that.


But Shelley did keep a diary. Strangely, although a private place for her, she could not find the courage to write about, or even refer to, the incident on those pages. Instead, she wrote it down separately, concealing it as a short story, so that it would not be completely lost to her and folded it up small enough to keep it pressed between the leaves like one might press a flower.



Incubus



a/n: It's my first time writing smut, but not my first time writing.

Hope you enjoy the ride.

~

Phantasmal, red light swirled around the living room in great rings of runic code.

I altered the code as I would rewrite a paper on a word document, changing and optimizing the code with a critical insight that would make my English professors proud—

Only if they wouldn't be disgusted with what this was for.

I glanced at my phone. It was twelve past five; I was nearly out of time.

Finishing my fifteenth check through my work, I decided that what I had—as imperfect as it was—would have to do.

With a thought and a gesture, the red lights gathered into a disk that grew thinner and more compact as it spun over the palm of my hand. It disappeared without a trace. I let out quiet breath as I relaxed into the couch, listening to my heart beat in my ears.

This power of mine—what I simply called "magic"—was novel even now.

With it, I had done things I once could only dream of: restructuring my body, improving my mind, becoming a god in all but name.

The three months that I had spent exploring the limits of my newfound abilities told me limits existed only if I let them exist. Nothing was truly impossible: limitless energy, immortality, world peace. I could do great good—or, on the flip side, I could make the world bow at my feet. It was a tempting fantasy to make every woman on the planet surrender to me her body, mind and soul. A fantasy, I realized, that could come true. When the temptation grew too much, and neither the magical police nor a half-giant bearing a letter came knocking on my front door, I listened to the devil on my shoulder and chose the road only sick, twisted monsters walked.

And as every journey began with a single step, I set off to conquer the world by choosing my first target.

Just as I predicted, I heard the jingling of keys at fourteen past five.

Riley Winters stepped into our apartment with a bag slung over her shoulder. She's a real girl-next-door type of gal, the kind you can't forget after discovering how generous puberty was to her. She's five feet seven with red, shoulder-length curls and lovely blue eyes. A history of running track and field in high school shows in her habits; her early morning jogs made her body toned and spry, and her general attitude towards anything favored active roles. We were bitter enemies in middle school, and now she was one of my roommates.

She was also my girlfriend.

"Welcome back," I said, rising from the couch.

Her smile was a tired one. "Hey babe."

"Wiped out, huh?" I took her bag, which she handed over gratefully. She kissed me on the cheek. "I'm making dinner: beef stew, mashed potatoes and broccoli salad."

"Sounds great. I could use some food."

"Skipped lunch again?"

"I had to. The prof was late again, and she pushed the class to work overtime." I set her bag down in the living room. She followed me inside, slumping into the couch. Feeling sympathetic, I stood behind her and began massaging her shoulders. "Fuckin' bitch thinks she can keep us in like that. Holding our grades over our head and everything. We need food, damn it." She closed her eyes and sank into the couch. "That feels rrreally good."

I grinned. "I bet it does."

She yawned. "Makes me wanna... fall asleep here."

"Your stomach might file an abuse complaint if you do."

"Hmm. Yeah, it would."

I made my move when she nestled into the pillows. The process was instantaneous. The spell package appeared like a red spark in my eyes before it inserted itself into Riley's mind. She didn't seem to notice. A link between Riley and I opened in my conscious, a metaphysical tether, a leash that bound her soul to my will. On her end, the link merged with her being so it could incorporate the signals it would carry into her soul. It gave me administrative control to her thoughts and actions.

She belonged to me now.

Her lips curled up into a satisfied smile as she drifted off to sleep. Instinctively, I wanted her to take my cock in between those lips and choke herself with it.

The package—which I aptly named Domination—did its job. My thoughts, translated into commands, entered the bond through my end and left through hers. There was no resistance on her part, only the immediate reconfiguration of her thoughts to obey my order.

Riley cracked an eye open and licked her lips.

"What?" I asked nonchalantly.

"I'm feeling a bit peckish," she answered as she stood and circled the couch.

Her hand reached through the waistband of my shorts. She freed my growing erection with a grin on her face betraying a hunger for something other than food.

Resting on her knees, she began worshipping my eight inches with her tongue.

She licked from the base to the tip, using the wet trails she left behind as lubricant to stroke my cock. I leaned back against the headrest of the couch. When Riley's lips closed over the glans, she wrapped her hand around my shaft and swallowed my dick whole. As she pumped her lips along my length, my mind buzzed pleasantly. Her half-lidded eyes turned upwards and locked with mine when she began to suck, her cheeks drawing inwards while she bobbed her head faster. Her saliva collected into sticky globs from her motions that fell from between her fingers onto her white blouse.

It was hot to see Riley slave over my cock. Empowering, even.

I wanted more.

The Domination responded, planting thoughts of submission into Riley's mind. She pulled her head off my meat, jerking it slowly as spit dripped from her chin.

"You like that, babe?" she asked breathlessly. "You like me sucking on your dick?"

I groaned under her ministrations, nodding.

"Then you'll fucking love this." She swallowed my dick again with a wet gulp, shoving more into her mouth until she could take no more. Slurping noisily, Riley pulled her head back only to lurch forward again, widening her mouth as much as she could while doing so. This time my cock penetrated deeper, pressing against the back of her mouth and tongue. It was as if there was a fleshy ring squeezed shut before me, hot and moist against my flesh.

Again and again Riley shoved my dick against her throat, her face flushing from the effort.

She stuck out her tongue and cradled the bottom of my member with it. Pitching her head forward again, she gagged as my cock broke through the entrance to her throat.

It hurt her. That wouldn't do.

I wanted her to feel good, to convert this debasement into pleasure.

Riley tiled her jaw upward as she pushed her face into my stomach repeatedly. A deep, wet gurgle escaped her along with thin, sticky strands of saliva. One of her hands crept over to her jeans. Her slender fingers disappeared into her underwear, moving frantically beneath the fabric.

Reaching the edge of my control, I grabbed the back of her head and took control, plunging my dick down her throat as far as I could. There was a noise, a garbled yelp mixed with a muffled groan. Both of Riley's hands were on her body now, one jilling her off and the other working its way beneath her blouse. Her eyes rolled back into her head. Her face was beet red. I basked in the contractions of her gullet around my dick before pulling back. Riley gasped for breath through her overflowing spit.

I shoved my dick forward again, spearing into her throat.

Again. Again, again and again.

I fucked her mouth, losing myself in the action, and forced her to enjoy the abuse. She did, thoroughly. The crotch of her jeans turned damp as silent orgasms rocked her body.

A gradual pressure built up in my loins. I was nearly there. With a final, violent thrust, I buried my dick into her mouth and came. Waves of euphoria swept over my heart. My physical alterations encompassed ejaculate output, so my load was plentiful. Thick ropes of semen fell straight into her throat, and, as I withdrew, onto her outstretched tongue, her lips, her nose, her face and her hair. I willed for her to relish my gift. She swallowed her initial mouthful of cum, licking the splatter from her lips. Withdrawing her fingers from beneath her blouse, she retrieved the rest of my jizz from her face before sucking up her bounty with barely-repressed lust.

"Fuck," she whispered. "Fuck. Almost there. Fuck! Nnrgh!"

She came for the final time. Her thighs squeezed her hand as pleasure overwhelmed Riley's thoughts. When her orgasm passed, she sat against the back of the couch beside my feet.

"That was... something," she said with a sigh.

"Yeah," I agreed. "You were pretty wild there. Uhh... you feelin' okay?"

She tried to laugh and coughed instead. "My jaw is tired as hell. And my throat is sore." She cleared her throat. "But, hell, that was worth it. My panties are soaked."

"Thought you didn't do things like that," I said, pulling my shorts back up.

She shrugged. "So did I. But it felt good." On wobbly legs she stood. I held her for support. She smiled softly and kissed me in the lips. "I can walk. Barely. Just let me change before eating. I can't sit in these jeans. My thighs are all wet."

"I'll set the table then."

"Thanks."

She hugged me before heading to our room. My eyes watched her round butt sway with her departure, and the desire to see Riley panting and coming beneath me threatened to take control. But I could see the dark streaks running down the inner leg of her skinny jeans. The remains of her arousal was evident in the musk hanging in the air. I'd let her get comfortable now. I could make her do more later. I planted in her thoughts a certain itch that needed to be scratched.

Satisfied, I hummed a tune as I prepared the table.

~

Dinner was a calm affair. Riley enjoyed the food. It was better than take out, certainly. Eating home-cooked meals was uncommon for us as of late.

Neither of us had much time to make anything extravagant between classes and work. That was changing now that I had magical powers. The forty- to sixty-page packets my professors assigned me were easy pickings. Work became a practice of normalcy instead of an exhausting effort; in fact, my productivity was sky-high thanks to my self-enhancements. It was common for me to have four or five hours to relax at home every day.

After dinner, I washed the plates while Riley showered.

I spent my free time reading. Fiction helped me brainstorm new applications with my abilities. Though my memory was nearly perfect, I kept a small notepad and a pen with me for notes. A spell locked these notes away in a pocket dimension until I needed them.

I was dabbling in my research when I heard Riley call from our room.

"Paul~!" she said in a sing-song voice. "I need you!"

"Gimme a sec," I called back, jotting an idea down. I shoved the pad into its pocket space before I left the couch to follow Riley's voice.

My jaw dropped when I reached the bedroom.

Sitting on our queen-sized bed was Riley in a white negligee that reached mid-thigh. Her bare legs crossed enticingly beneath her like a prize waiting to be pried open. The negligee curved with her body, outlining her athletic figure behind a thin veil. Only the two straps over her shoulders kept her lacy top from falling. Smiling mischievously, she adjusted her arms so the view of her cleavage was unobstructed. Though her bra size was a modest B-cup, she made up for her assets simply by being seductive.

It worked. My astonishment quickly turned into excitement.

"So soon?" I said, grinning.

"I just couldn't keep away," she responded with a wiggle of her hips. "You ready for round two, big boy, or am I gonna sit here being horny as fuck all night?"

I scoffed. "Do I really have to answer?"

I left my shirt and shorts in a pile on the floor. Riley giggled and crawled further into the bed as I joined her. I tried to grab her legs, but she locked my hands in her own. I pinned her wrists down on the bed with ease. I peppered her neck and bare collar with kisses until her giggles turned into soft, breathy laughs. I brought to mind possible physical alterations as she writhed under me.

Biomancy—a subset of magic I possessed that manipulated biology—had no spells to cast. Instead, it functioned like a keen sense of control.

As I touched Riley's skin with my lips, I channeled the changes by thought alone.

Meanwhile, I pushed into her thoughts a temporary acceptance of the fantastic changes about happen, masking it in heavy euphoria.

Her laughs became soft moans. Her features shifted to express perfectly the girl I had fallen in love with. The rest of her body followed suit. My touch eliminated her body hair; reconfigured portions of her nervous system; strengthened and revitalized her heart and lungs. She became putty in my hands while I made her better—faster, stronger, smarter. My everlasting fears regarding her safety lessened a degree as I modified her physical constitution to impossible levels. When I was done, I retreated a little to study Riley's new form.

Her body filled out more in ways that characterized her the best—a fuller bust, lither limbs, a plumper rear. She aimed a smile at me over her legs.

"Backing out?" she teased.

Chuckling, I answered, "No. Just... appreciating how wonderful you are."

"Heh. You know it." She climbed onto all fours before closing the space between us. There was a shine in her eyes when we kissed. It was the kind of kiss that pulled you into each other's souls and brought you close to the fire in their heart.

It ignited passion.

We kissed, our lusts burning wildly the more we tried to express it through our mouths. Our tongues wrestled for control even as I shoved her back into the sheets, holding her body beneath mine. When the fires calmed we pulled away from the kiss with only a thread of moisture bridging our lips together. She wrapped her arms around my chest and sandwiched my leg between hers. Her crotch, hot and wet, rubbed back and forth along my thigh in steady motions. My erection pressed firmly against her stomach every time she raised her lower half.

Her reconfigured nerves increased sensitivity in certain areas of her body. The pleasure she experienced rubbing against me was a magnitude higher than what she experienced earlier in the evening. Riley's expression was frozen in a struggle to stifle her cries.

"You feel like coming?" I muttered into her ear.

She nodded.

I kissed her neck, targeting the area where new pleasure nerves now existed.

Quivering under my kisses, Riley came as if a train had struck her release switch. I saw her eyes roll back, her head press against the bed, her chest thrust into the air while her spine arched backwards. Her soundless scream ended after a few minutes with loud gasps and unintelligible mumbling. She whimpered as I kept abusing the sensitive spot on her neck, renewing her struggle to escape my hold.

When I relented, she shed her lacy underwear and spread her legs open. Her folds glistened with moisture tricking from inside.

I traced a finger along her lower lips. She squirmed a little.

"Is... is that a plug?" I asked when I saw her other hole. A plastic ring protruded from it. From the ring's angle, I figured there was more inside her. I cheered in my mind before I shoved more desires into the bond with Riley. "The last time you did anal, I swear you absolutely hated it."

"I-I wanted to try it again. I cleaned up and everything. Dooo you mind?"

"No! No, no. Of course not." I returned my attention to her pussy, though I made sure to reorganize the nerves surrounding her asshole. It would be my prize for tonight.

Fighting a smile, I lower my head between her legs.

The way she shuddered when I tentatively licked her folds told me Riley was extra sensitive. Her juices tasted sweet, like candy. I meant that literally thanks to my manipulating her biology. The flavor gave me an incentive to drive into her hole and taste her inner walls. Bracing her legs apart with my arms, I enjoyed the way Riley buckled in an effort to extract my tongue from her hypersensitive sex.

Her screams said another story. "Fuck! God! Yes! Eat my pussy! Make me cum!"

I complied with what I heard. Her hands pressed my head against her vagina as she hollered. When her clit entered my range, I attacked it with reckless abandon.

Her thighs shifted in my arms. My eyes flicked upwards to catch Riley in the middle of another orgasm.

I kept stimulating her clit, trying to maintain her orgasm as long as I could.

Her juices splashed into my mouth and onto the sheets for several minutes. Her legs remained extended, her back arched, and her lips formed a perfect O-shape.

She was a living sculpture of sexual ecstasy.

Her orgasm faded gradually. Eventually, her breathing recovered. Her new body was designed to last this long—but what of her mind, I wondered. Her body could take my attention no matter how rough I would get. But the mind was a different story. I wanted to see how far I could bend her until she broke from the pleasure. I fed into her conscious the desire to be used and abused by me, to drown in pleasure until her world became nothing but white.

Responding to her newly-formed thoughts, Riley flipped over and presented her ass to me.

"Give it to me," she hissed. "Use my holes. Fuck me!"

I could see her pussy contracting as if aching for my cock. Pulling off my boxers, I guided my erection to her dripping hole and sank it inside.

Her walls formed a slick tunnel of velvet that sucked my cock as if in hunger.

The lubricant she leaked allowed me to slide most of my length inside without trouble until the tip of my member found her cervix. Once more I drew upon my biomancy, granting her cervix the flexibility, durability and nervous framework to behave like an internal sex organ. When the tip of my cock pushed against her cervix, Riley gasped at the foreign sensation.

I pushed deeper, clenching my teeth to maintain control when her cervix squeezed my cock.

Riley tensed, and her fingers reached for her clit. I took her discarded underwear, where it lay soaked in Riley's juices, and stuffed it into her mouth.

Then I began thrusting, my hands gripping her hips for leverage.

My cock glided along her convulsing vaginal walls before pounding through the tight ring of her cervix.

Riley's muffled screams were music to my ears. My hands slapped her perfect bubble butt, eliciting deep moans from her throat.

I violated the mouth of her womb with the primal ferocity that awoke within me.

I wanted to do more. Abuse her. Hurt her. Love her.

Her free hand grew tired of propping her upright. It reached under her top and tugged at her nipple viciously. The restructured nerves in her nipple triggered adjacent nerves, and the pleasure it brought her made her shake. Monitoring her mind let me keep track of how she was comprehending the pleasure. So far, it was overwhelming her ability to conceive thoughts.

More.

I pulled at the plastic band over her asshole. Her puckered star sucked it back in, unwilling to let go. I yanked harder until her anus stretched a little, relinquishing a round, transparent ball connected to a string—anal beads. With a mighty tug, I pulled out all the beads at once. Riley jolted, her back arching again, but I wasn't done. In a swift motion, I extracted my cock from her pussy and plunged straight into her gaping anus. The beads had done a wonderful job in widening her back door, but I still found an impressive amount of resistance coming from her tunnels.

I withdrew completely and thrust again.

The pink, fleshy ring of her anus parted stiffly. Her colon burned like magma when it contracted around my dick like a vice. Only the sticky lube from Riley's pussy let me keep working.

Riley bucked wildly beneath me as I battered her asshole. From our link, I sensed the burning pain of her asshole being stretched. Using biomancy, I lined her asshole and colon with more nerves that emitted pleasure signals. At the same time, I used Domination to make her aroused by the pain I inflicted. When I was done, she gradually stilled. Her eyes shut in concentration.




Incubus



"You like that?" I asked her. "You like it when I rape your butt? Turning your ass into a pussy? You want your butt hole to tingle whenever you get wet? Your pussy to drip when you sit down?"

Her underwear fell from her mouth, dripping with her saliva.

"Yessss," she hissed, smothering her face in the sheets. "Fuck my ass-pussy!"

Her anus was loosening. The pink ring swallowed my length whole whenever my hips slapped against her bottom. I gripped a butt cheek in each hand, enjoying the slightly firm but soft flesh jiggling beneath my fingers. The noise of flesh smacking flesh and Riley's moans and pants fused into a din of debauchery localized within our room. It fed the beast within me, and served to push Riley further over the edge of release. When she stiffened again, her shoulders lifting off the bed in orgasm, I thrust harder, all too eager to destroy her asshole in a frenzy of sex.

"Fuck me! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck my shithole yessss!" she screamed.

Her bowels clenched on my dick like a pussy would in climax. With the nerves lining it, her asshole had effectively become another sex organ. The realization pushed me over my own limit.

As her colon squeezed, I came, shooting ropes into her asshole.

Minutes passed as I came, again and again, staining her insides with my seed.

A fat glob of jizz bubbled out of her winking hole when I withdrew. It oozed down her crack and over her swollen pussy before falling onto her calf.

Riley's butt remained raised in the air. Her thoughts were too jumbled for her to care.

Her pussy dripped with excessive arousal, forming a wet puddle on the bed.

Over the haze of ejaculation, I decided I wanted more.

I held Riley's rear steady as I guided my still-hard cock towards the target. It plugged any more of my semen from escaping her hole.

Riley tried to protest. "Paul. Let me catch my breath."

She pushed me away. When that didn't help, she tried to push out my dick with her ass. She succeeded only in tightening her anus around my dick. I reveled in her resistance, sawing my dick in and out of her sensitive hole. She shuddered in incomprehensible pleasure as I concentrated on breaking her spirit by abusing her asshole. Her constant orgasms left her powerless before my assault.

I resolved to fuck her asshole for the whole damned weekend.



Incubus



Trent was shaking almost as badly as I was. I looked up at him and his eyes had gone to creepy black. He told me he was hungry. I knew that meant more than just horny. He told me he wouldn't feed from me and was going to have to leave me to find the energy elsewhere. I shook my head. I started removing his clothes. He didn't stop me.

If I thought I'd just felt the most mind-blowing orgasms of my life, nothing could prepare me for the feeling of Trent inside me. At some point he's turned off the lights so that the only thing I could see were his glowing black eyes staring down at me.

The next morning I was fine. The day after that I was fine, too. Trent explained that there were a few rare people who were immune to the side effects of feeding an incubus. He'd finally found one.

After that night we didn't involve other people in our bedroom activities unless it was mutually agreed upon. I admit, sometimes I still enjoyed watching him with other women and he still enjoyed having me watch him.

We moved into our own little rented house the next semester. Our neighbors in the dorm were complaining about all the moaning and groaning each night.



Incubus



I was human, once. Now, I am merely a spirit seeking release - a release I am perpetually denied… a being without form, without substance… a shade… a wraith… a shadow, filled with desires like a cloud is filled with storm…

Erika opened the ornately engraved dark wood box. A gift from one of her friends on her eighteenth birthday. It was long and narrow, and looked to be rather old. Antique, perhaps from the Victorian era, given the scrollwork on the box itself.

"E. - About time you had some fun like a real adult… Kisses, M." Erika put aside the note and slid open the box. The lid slide lengthwise, revealing a long, black figurine, slender, made of some black stone, perhaps polished jet. It was vaguely carved to resemble both a man and a penis, and Erika felt a shock that Marisa would have given her such a thing.

Is this some kind of antique dildo? she wondered. That Marisa! When I see her, I'll show her some "adult fun"!

Erika slid the lid completely open and looked at the figurine. It was about nine inches in length, but very smooth. She was surprised when she touched it, expecting it to feel cold and hard. Instead, it felt rather warm, and even though it was unyielding, her fingers registered a velvety sensation.

That's odd… Erika pulled the little man from the blue velvet that lined the interior of the box. Her hands felt a gentle warmth, pleasing, and she caressed the idol/dildo dreamily.

I have slumbered… How many years, I do not know. The dead cannot recon time accurately. All is but nightmarish powerlessness and wracking lust… But now, I feel a presence… an energy… and I stir from my decades of sleep…

Erika felt a stirring in her body. At first, she thought the whole thing very silly and immature. But now, the warmth in her hands spread through her body - through her belly and down into her pussy, radiating up and into her breasts, out her nipples, up her throat and out her lips. Her entire body felt pleasurable - a high unlike anything Erika had ever experienced from any drug or alcohol. A hand brushed across her nipple, and gentle electricity coursed through her and into her womb. Her pussy quivered. Her vagina was dripping with moisture. She could feel the heat and wetness between her thighs, and she ran her hand down her trimmed mound and touched her pussy lips.

A moan escaped her, unbidden.

Closing her eyes, the little totem gripped in her left hand, Erika began to caress and finger her moistened treasure box.

My desires flow… following senses that are not mine own… bodiless yet aware, I perceive an energy I know and respond to with a growing hunger… I experience quivers of pleasure… and cry voicelessly in impotent anguish that I cannot more fully have the sensation, but, lamprey-like, must enjoy them distantly… voyeuristically… I am not yet come into the power I once had… but hope that I shall… and soon!

Erika found herself running the little antique dildo over her breasts, sliding it between her tits and licking the tip of it like it was a real penis. It felt firm, but so warm, so pleasurable… she couldn't stop, and had no desire to. Her mouth sucked more of the figure, wetting it with saliva, and then she slid it down until it pushed into her wetness.

"Oh…" Erika moaned. It slid in and felt so good, it was unreal!

Erika lay back on her bed, forgetting all else but the sensations rippling through her body. Gentle waves that washed completely through her; and sharper, more intense pulses, starting in her pussy and shooting up through her chest. Her nipples ached, dying to be pinched, sucked, licked, teased - oh god! Fucking touch me!! Fuck me! Yes! Yes! Yes! Deeper! Harder! Ah, fuck!

Erika was writhing, masturbating and fucking herself with the black idol in total abandon. Moans and groans came out of her mouth. She swore. She cried. She shoved the dildo in deeper and faster until an orgasmic wave exploded through her and she convulsed, arching her back off her bed and curling her toes in climax.

"Ooooh fuck….!" she cried.

Sliding the little man from her vagina, Erika drew it to her mouth and kissed it. She loved the sweet, musky scent of herself on the dildo, and savored the taste of her own juices from her lips.

Holy shit, Marisa! What did you buy me?

Erika lay the little man between her breasts as she came down from her climax. She felt blissfully relaxed, better than she had ever felt before in her life. She gazed at the little figurine, stroking it absently, wondering where it had come from and who had made such a thing.

I am awash in desires! I feel wave after wave of exquisite sensation! I am enveloped by delicious warmth and wetness! Ah! But I cannot cum! I cannot find release! I must! I must have more! More… more….

Erika carefully replaced the dildo/totem in its blue velvet bed. She paused before gently sliding the cover back into place, and then hid the box in her closet where she prayed her mother would never find it. It was hidden with other things her mom would be upset to find - sexy letters from various boyfriends and girlfriends from high school. Condoms. Some weed. A couple of men's magazines Erika had stolen from her brother's closet, swearing him to secrecy lest he tell with blackmail of her own about his drug parties.

Grabbing her cell phone from her purse, she dialed Marisa. 

"Hi! You've reached Marisa! Leave me a message and I'll call ya' back if you're cute!"

Erika grinned and glanced at the closet. Already, her pussy was beginning to feel an itch wanting to be scratched again.

"Hey, chica! I - uh - opened your gift." Erika blushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious. But something in her felt a little excited, too, and she wanted to share it with her best friend. Her girl friend. A friend with benefits.

"Where did you get this thing?" she whispered into the phone. "I have to tell you…" She paused as a gentle wave of desire rippled through her again. "Oh, shit! You need to come over. Tonight! Sleep over, making out - whatever… But get your sweet ass over here! You won't believe me unless you try it yourself."

She hung up and took a deep breath. 

Erika looked once again at the closet, her horniness growing with every moment, until she said "Fuck it!" and got the box down from her hiding place.

Her mom was due home in about half-an-hour, but Erika was so hot, she felt she could care less if her mom caught her with the dildo shoved up her pussy, fucking herself until she came while her mom watched!

Unending hunger! Desire forever unfulfilled! Like Tantalus, I am eternally thwarted in my gratification - denied release, let alone satiation!

I drift in a black void… without images, only endless lusts and hungers for pleasure and sensual gratification…

But, I sense a shift… the presence is back, and I feel a resonance in desire, like a small reflection of mine own… a hunger for pleasures deeper and unknown…

Erika brought herself off three times before she heard the key in the back door and the sound of footsteps in the kitchen. Hurriedly, she replaced the dildo in his bed and hid the box. She wiped her brow, surprised by the amount of sweat she had worked up masturbating. She was panting and sweating like she had just done her barre exercises!

"Hi, sweetie! How was your day? You all excited about the party this weekend?"

Erika answered breathlessly, "Yeah, sure - you know it!"

Her mom frowned. "Erika? What have you been doing? Have you been jumping on your bed again?"

Erika swallowed, glad her mom did not suspect just how sexually active she was. And had been, for two years. At sixteen, she lost her virginity to her boyfriend. Then, at seventeen, to her girlfriend. Her mom did not know she was bi, and would have fainted to find out about sex with either!

"Yeah, mom. Sorry!"

Her mom gave a tired smile. "Well, as it was your birthday yesterday, and you are an adult now, I guess I can let it go this time."

Erika sighed with relief. "Thanks, mom."

Her mom shook her head and left the room.

"Oh, mom? Marisa's going to come over tonight, okay? A sleep over."

Her mom looked puzzled, but nodded it was okay. "Alright. You two… You're inseparable! And nothing but trouble, I'm sure…"

Erika went off to the bathroom to take a shower. After the afternoon of fucking herself, a nice shower seemed a good idea. But as soon as she even began to think about the experience of standing under the shower, warm water cascading over her body, across her breasts and down her thighs, she felt her nipples harden and her shirt rubbed across them, sending little electric shocks straight to her pussy.

"And the shower massager, too…" she muttered to herself as she rushed to the bathroom and closed the door.

I've become a total horn dog! Erika mused. 

As she pulled off her top and shorts, the sight of her own body in the mirror made her horny and wet. Erika was determined to take care of that!

Once she had rinsed down quickly, Erika carefully slid open the shower door so she could watch herself play with her nipples and her pussy in the mirror. She had large, 34 C, beautiful breasts, and enjoyed the attention they got her from both boys and girls. And her long legs were smooth and shapely. Dancer's legs, with a wonderfully tight ass to go along with them. She kept her pussy trimmed, just a single, short bar of hair on her mound, and the lips were shaven. She loved the way it felt when Marisa's lips kissed her down there, smooth lips meeting smooth lips.

Erika ran the shower massager over her pussy, holding onto the top rail of the shower as she watched herself. She was getting incredibly turned on watching the way her body reacted to the various sensations and pleasures she was giving herself.

Again! She thought. Ah, fuck it! Ah… fuck… And brought herself to orgasm once more. The image of the little black totem kept flashing through her mind, and every time it did, it matched with the waves of pleasure that somehow seemed heightened by just the idea of that little black dildo.

What hell have I earned, this perpetual tease! This inexorable agony! To be awash in sensual ecstasy and then left, unfulfilled, unsatisfied, drifting in the void! How much longer must I endure this? When shall I ever know an end?

Marisa showed up just before 6pm. Erika noticed with a small twinge of fear and excitement that Marisa had worn a very tight pink top and very short white shorts. Even her mom was temporarily flustered at the sexiness of her daughter's best friend.

"Hiya', Mrs. C! Hope I'm not being a pain," she said with a smile. She gave Erika's mom a quick hug and then slid her arm around Erika's waist. It was almost, but not quite, a lover's hug, and Erika felt her pussy stir embarrassingly.

Breaking from Marisa's embrace gently, Erika and Marisa gave each other "air kisses" like Hollywood wannabes. 

"Halooo, darling!" she said.

"Muah! Haloo to you, too, sweetheart!" Marisa replied playfully.

Mrs. C just shook her head, smiling. "Oh, sit down, you two. And call your brother. Dinner's on."

Erika sat next to Marisa, across from her brother, Josh, while her mom sat at the end of the table. Josh was still gawky and withdrawn for nineteen, especially when Marisa was around. He knew about Marisa and his sister, and it embarrassed him to feel turned on whenever he saw the two of them together. He'd even spied on them making out in his sister's room before while he jerked off in the bushes outside. They hadn't gone very far, but still, two girls together, even just kissing and feeling each other up, was too sexy to ignore. Marisa's body was as hot as Erika's - larger breasts, and she was curvier where Erika was tall and slender.

Erika had a hard time concentrating on eating. She kept feeling waves of lust washing through her, like waves creeping up a beach - surge and recede - each wave getting higher as time went on. She was positive she could smell her own pussy from under the table, and it didn't help that Marisa kept sliding her foot over to play with hers.

After dinner, with Erika dying to get Marisa back to her room and take out the little black idol, Erika's mom offered to rent a movie and get some ice cream. Marisa pinched Erika knowingly, but said she'd love to watch a movie.

Josh went and picked one out, and the four of them watched while Erika continued to squirm and fidget.

Finally, the movie was over, and Mrs. C yawned and excused herself. "Well, I'm off! Goodnight, all. And girls, no talking on the phone all night, okay? And no Internet! You don't know what kind of pervs are out there just waiting to prey on young girls like you."

"Oh, we won't, Mrs. C," Marisa said. "We'll be good. Just talk about boys and stuff… maybe do each other's hair, give each other a facial, you know…"

Mrs. C smiled tiredly and nodded. With a wave she went off to her room.

Josh sat mutely, watching cable, while the two girls glanced at each other furtively.

"Goodnight, Josh," Erika said, and motioned with her head to Marisa.

"Yeah, goodnight, Josh," Marisa said and got up from the couch. She made sure to put a little more wiggle into her ass just to tease him, suspecting that he was horny for her like her sister.

Josh just muttered unintelligibly.

Once they were in Erika's room, with the door safely closed and locked, Erika immediately stepped into Marisa, kissing her passionately. She was dripping with desire. Her tongue thrust hungrily into her friend's mouth, and the two Frenched for several minutes. 

Marisa could feel Erika's hardened nipples through her top, and felt her own desire pooling in her pussy. Slipping a hand down, she slid it into Erika's shorts, caressing her ass with her hand.

"Wow!" Marisa breathed when Erika pulled away slightly. "What was that for?"

Erika smiled and pushed her girlfriend onto the bed. "Let's just say it's a 'thank you' for my gift," she said and retrieved the box from its hiding place.

Marisa smiled and lay back as Erika slid open the box and pulled the black idol from his resting place. She was pleasantly surprised at the expression of sheer lust that crept over Erika's face.

"Ah," Marisa said with a knowing smile. "That."

Erika sat next to her girlfriend, her hand holding the figurine gently yet firmly, like an erect penis, absently letting it run along her thigh.

"Yes, this," Erika sighed. Her nipples were hard as diamonds, and aching to be sucked and pinched. She began to slip her top off so Marisa could do exactly that for her as she asked, "Where ever did you - find - this thing?"

Marisa leaned forward, taking one of Erika's beautiful breasts into her mouth and sucking hard and long, torturing the poor girl as she flicked her tongue quickly across the nipple.

Again I am drawn into a vortex of lust and desire! More energies that flow through me, around me, over me, pulling on my unsatisfied lusts of centuries… I must have more! I must have release! I must know satisfaction!

Erika moaned and had to hold herself up with one arm, feeling suddenly very weak and incredibly horny.

Marisa helped Erika lay down, slipping the other girl's shorts off, and was greeted by the welcoming waft of wet pussy as Erika lay back. She was caressing the little idol softly, dreamily, her breath coming in short gasps of incredible desire.

"You like my little friend, eh?" Marisa said and knelt down next to the bed between Erika's thighs. She inhaled deeply Erika's aroma. "I can see that you do!"

Erika could barely speak. Marisa bent forward and began to lick her pussy, sending cascades of wonderful sensations all through Erika's body. Erika pulled the little man into her mouth, and sucked on it like a cock, before running it across her breasts and belly. Everywhere, the warmth of the idol heightened the sensations of pleasure washing through her.

"Oh god… yes…" she sighed, opening her legs wider. 

Marisa dove in, accepting the invitation. She had never seen Erika so turned on before! And it was making her even hornier than she had ever been in her life. Except, that is, for the time she had discovered the little black idol in the attic a few weeks back.

Yes! This I know! This - this is what I seek! This - Power… This - Pleasure… Let it not end! Let it continue! Let it build until I finally break free and know release!!

Marisa had been asked to help clean out the attic. She hated the work - it was dusty and hot. But she did find a few cool old pieces of jewelry and clothes from the early 1920's, items that belonged to her great-grandmother and grandmother, and this mysterious wood box. When she had opened it, she was surprised by what she found. She had heard that her great-grandmother had been something of a rebel in her day, and figured this must have belonged to her.

She had no idea as to its origin, or even real purpose. Was it a ritual item, or just a fancy dildo? Marisa had no idea.

But as soon as she had taken it out of the box, she suddenly felt very horny. 

Since there was no one else around, Marisa had done what came very naturally. She lay back on some old blankets and masturbated with the idol. And the sensations it had caused her were incredible! She owned a few vibrators and a dildo, but this went beyond that. This was orgasm with a capital "O"! This was a whole body, mind-soul experience!

And she knew just the person she wanted to share it with. A friend who would be having a birthday in a little over a month.

Marisa had spent the rest of the afternoon pleasuring herself. She even pulled the canvas off an old full-length mirror and watched herself as she fucked herself with the black dildo. Something made her want to do so, need to do so, like she was watching herself from outside her own body, yet experiencing all the pleasures this self/other was experiencing. It turned her on more than she had imagined.

"Oh, fuck, Marisa…!" Erika cried as her thighs began to vibrate and she climaxed, sending a flood of her girl juice washing over Marisa's chin.

"Mmmm! Dang, girl! You've never squirt before!" Marisa commented, licking her lips and wiping up Erika's sweet honey.

Erika lay catching her breath, eyes closed softly, running the little idol up and down her body. Marisa watched as another orgasm rippled through Erika, making her belly tremble and contract and her toes curl.

"Wow!" Marisa sighed and slid onto the bed next to her best friend.

Erika smiled and rolled closer to the other girl, cuddling tight, the little idol between them in her hands. "I know," she said quietly. " 'Wow!' is right!"

The two girls kissed. Marisa could feel the incredible heat from Erika's pussy on her thigh. There was a tickle of warmth in her belly, starting about where the idol nestled against her shirt, that sent a pulse through her vagina, and Marisa knew what she had to do next.

Ah! I grow! In Power, I grow! I feel more! I sense more. I begin to see… a girl… is that me? I don't know… I feel what she is feeling, but I feel something is missing… something that - ah! Frustrates me beyond endurance! What is it? What have I lost? What prevents me from that final act of release?

Erika watched as Marisa swiftly stripped off her clothes then lay down on the bed, her head at Erika's feet. Erika admired the sight of Marisa's body - dark where she was light, her pussy trimmed in a close "V". Marisa was of Hispanic descent, with dark hair and a perpetual tan. Erika hugged the idol closer to her body, expecting to 69 with her best friend - something she loved - but instead, Marisa lifted one of her legs and slid it over Erika's, then slid down until their pussies touched. 

Erika felt a flood of warmth go straight through her pussy, sure that Marisa must feel the heat in hers, too. And in her hands, the idol seemed to pulse - not physically, but in waves of pleasure and lust that were transmitted from Erika into Marisa, then back again as Marisa began to rub her pussy against Erika's.




Incubus



"Mmmm," Erika moaned and lay back, letting the sensations become all of her awareness, now.

Marisa bit her lip, and began to fuck Erika harder, pressing her clit against her girlfriend's hot, wet slit, feeling it bounce off Erika's erect clit with intense pulses of pleasure. "Mm! Mm! Mm!" she grunted, feeling her desire increase with each and every thrust.

I am… Aware! Yes. I see, now. I am/I am not… two girls… making love. I am each/neither. Both/myself. The pleasure! The desire! I feed it with mine own. Hopelessly seeking gratification. Deluding myself as I have done countless times, caught up in my own need, that perhaps this time, if I build the intensity far enough, this time I will cum! I will orgasm. And I will know release, and satiation, and peace…

Erika couldn't believe everything she was feeling. It seemed as though her desire, her appetite, was constantly increasing with every touch, every kiss, every caress. She wanted - needed - Marisa to fuck her. Badly! She needed to taste her friend, to drink deeply of Marisa's nectar. She was whimpering, moaning, gasping - pushing her pussy into Marisa's in rhythm to Marisa's thrusts. But she needed more!

"I'm gonna' cum!" Marisa cried. Both girls were too far gone to worry that they might be overheard.

Erika's face was tight as her orgasm built, too. "Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Me - too!" she gasped. The ripples were increasing, concentrating, building. 

The two ground their pussies together, gripping hands and pulling each other tight as a final pulse shot through them simultaneously. They tossed their heads back, both girl's orgasming as one.

"Aaaah!" they cried.

In Erika's grip, the little idol pulsed waves of heat and pleasure. Her orgasms followed, one after the other, until she was nearly unconscious, oblivious to everything but her own ecstasy.

Ah! Power and sensation! But no release! Not for me. Not yet. Why? I drink in the energies of these two, like an addict with my opiate, but the hunger persists… I sense - another…

Josh had snuck outside shortly after his sister and Marisa had gone to Erika's room. He was not expecting them to get busy so soon, and certainly not as hot and active as they had been!

Letting his shorts fall, Josh stroked his monster hard on as he watched Erika hungrily attack her girlfriend.

"Whoa… holy shit," he breathed as he watched the pair together. He felt more desperately horny himself as he jerked off, feeling a strange heat come over his body - a pleasant buzz. And yet, he hadn't had any drugs. He didn't want anything that might dull this sensation anyway.

As the two girls tribbed, he got himself off. He shot his cum in powerful pulses as the two girls contracted together in orgasm. For a split second, Josh almost felt as if he were with them, feeling what they were feeling. It left him pleasantly shaken. He jerked the final drops out of his cock onto the flowers outside Erika's window and dreamily pulled up his boxers and shorts, then staggered back to his own room.

My Power grows! I can perceive more… more presences nearby… more hungers…

Erika's mom lay in bed, trying to sleep. But something disturbed her, something that had been sparked when Marisa had walked in looking far too sexy for an eighteen-year old. Leslie never had been aware of feeling sexually attracted to women before, let alone her daughter's friend. But there was something in the air tonight, like a subtle charge before a storm, and she found herself unable to fall asleep.

Leslie drifted in a place between frustration and slumber. Her day at work had drained her, and she was tired. But her mind kept seeing Marisa's legs and tight ass in those white shorts… 

I need to get laid, Leslie thought. I need to get off, just to get some sleep.

She lay in bed, trying to will herself to not think about Marisa. But she thought she could hear the girls in Erika's room - a small cry - that triggered a tickle of lust in Leslie's pussy.

Fuck it! she said and slipped a hand down to her pussy to give herself some relief.

In a half-daze, Leslie masturbated. Images of Marisa kept flowing into her fantasies, and she stopped resisting them. It felt good to stop fighting, and Leslie found her pussy wetter and hotter than it had been in a long while. Certainly since Jack, her husband - ex-husband - had left two years ago.

In her masturbatory dreams, Leslie thought she heard Marisa's voice crying out in pleasure, and she climaxed with a mild groan of her own. Cum flowed out of her pussy, covering her fingers, and Leslie marveled at the release. It had been a long, long time since she had felt this good!

Ah, yes… Sexual desire… my drug… my addiction… my Power… I follow… more… extending my awareness further… awakening dormant lusts in presences I sense… I cannot control, but I can urge, influence, nudge… Curiosity beckons, but it is the desire that opens the door…

Erika and Marisa held each other, kissing, each fingering the other as they lay face-to-face on Erika's bed. The sheets were soaked with wet spots from their cum. Neither cared. It was as if they drifted on a sea of sensual delights. Kisses felt more hungry, and more pleasurable, than ever. Every touch was heightened. It was like the best drug in the world.

The black idol lay trapped between the girls' bodies, belly pressed to belly, sending warm pulses of lust and sexual sensations through the pair.

In his room, Josh popped a porn DVD into his player and lay back on his bed. He felt warm, buzzed, and still hungry for more. Using a little baby oil, he coated his cock and set to work pleasuring himself. It felt better tonight than it had ever felt before, and he savored the sensation of his hand sliding up and down his shaft. Josh never wanted it to stop, but could go on like this for days, if possible, forgetting all else but the sensation of pleasure.

Leslie finally drifted, a smile floating on her face, as her dreams took her into realms of sexual fantasy she had never explored. Secret desires she had always been to afraid to look at, but now allowed herself to dream. Orgies and oral delights, sucking off men, being eaten by women, anal sex and 69's and other mild fetishes… Leslie dreamed, and sighed, and unknowingly pleasured herself in her sleep.

I sense satisfaction… but not for me. Never for me! When? When shall I know release? When shall I know peace?

Moving as in a dream, Erika put the idol away. Both girls had kissed it, licking it like a long cock, then kissing each other, toying with each other's tongues around the idol as if they double-teamed a man. They were so buzzed, so delirious, they could barely stay awake any longer. And so they put their "toy" away and curled up together to kiss and caress and fall asleep in each other's arms.

Voicelessly, I scream! My lusts have been fueled and fanned, but not released. Not vanquished. Not satisfied. Again the black void, leaving me to writhe in disembodied agony of desire…

I remember my past… A past. Perhaps the life when this curse began… 

I was a warrior. A foreigner, leading men in the pharaoh's army. I remember a girl, a young woman, beautiful, desirable - the vizier's daughter. I feel - much - for her. Desire. Longing. Love. And I sense she returned my feelings. 

But such was not meant to be. There were others who coveted the vizier's daughter - men who were ambitious and powerful. Men who wanted that prize for themselves, and felt no compunction against killing - especially an outsider like myself - to get it.

Ah, yes - I remember… That night. The night. The night this curse began, and my agony… It was as we made love, Bethset and I. She was beneath me, I was on top, thrusting deep inside her, my eyes on her beautiful face, my strong arms holding her legs apart, my hands gripping her ankles in our love-play… 

Then, the look of surprise in her eyes, and the pain - such incredible pain - in my back as I was stabbed from behind. Just before my moment of release. The bastards! And the priest, the sorcerer, curse his soul to the deepest pits of Darkness and Flame! It was not enough to destroy my body, but they sought to destroy my soul as well. The priest muttered phrases, and as my ka began to depart my shell, rather than pass over, it was drawn - pulled like a lodestone against my will - into the fetish the priest held in his hands.

They sought to deny me rebirth, condemning me to this eternity of anguish and unbearable lust unsatisfied. Perhaps they thought it a cruel but fitting punishment against one who dared step above his station. Perhaps they were just exceedingly cruel men. Or they were ignorant of the hell into which they would cast me…

I was taken, brought to temples of dark powers, used in rituals of sexuality and blood. Orgies I was used in, passed from hand to hand, each holder imparting to me some small spark of their desire, of their dark lusts, while drawing on a bit of my own. Like a bottomless well, I was fed, drop by drop, over the years. Then decades. Then centuries.

I no longer recall what I was like as a man - was I just and fair? Or was I hungry and lust-filled, desiring power and sensuality? I no longer know. Nor do I really care.

I only know that I suffer from unutterable anguish of thwarted desires. And that I have the power to draw on, to awaken and use, those feelings in others. 

I was passed, when Egypt fell, to lands in the East. Sensual lands, filled with beautiful, exotic women who knew the ways of pleasure. It fed me and it tortured me, these priestesses, this culture of kama sutra. For centuries I was used, gifted to the harem of a Padishah, satisfying and fueling the desires of the seraglio while being forever denied mine own. 

At some point, as this culture was failing, invaded by white-skinned foreigners who began to repress the more decadent native culture, I was taken - passed along as booty, transported across time and space, land and sea, into a cold, grey land. Here, too, I had power.

I confess, I enjoyed with some perverse amusement my experience of the salons of English Victorian society. Repressed, "upright", "proper" women passing me from hand to hand, awakening lusts and expressions of pleasure and desire, dissolving their "afternoon teas" into orgies of masturbation and sensual delights. It seems the more sexuality is repressed, the more power I have, and the more potent the awakenings.

I was possessed, briefly, by an exquisite woman, dark and passionate, an Italian marchioness, who was given me as a gift. Or perhaps I possessed her, as demons are reputed to do, with my own desire for release. I pleasured her, and opened in her a depth of unsatisfied lusts that she sought to gratify - at the cost of her own life, eventually. Her husband became distraught with her libidinous affairs with men, women, servants and fellow courtiers, and strangled her in her sleep. He eventually hanged himself. Fitting.

Then, a new land. A new country. The Americas. And a time when women were beginning to demand rights and pleasures of their own. Oh, she was a beautiful and fun one, that owner! Playfully wicked. I almost found release during my time with her. Almost, but not quite. And an inch is as good as a mile - far, far worse, when it comes to centuries of ungratified lust!

I tremble. I sense a depth in this young one… a possibility. Have I, at long last, found the one who can give me satisfaction? Have I finally found the one who can grant me release?

Erika woke, Marisa's face right before her own, soft in slumber, a slight smile playing about her lips.

Her body felt refreshed, if a little sore "down there". But the moment Erika became aware of her pussy, it pulsed with desire. Almost unconsciously, she reached for the box where the little black idol lay sleeping. She caught herself, marveling at how quickly she was becoming addicted to this strange figurine.

No, no, no… Erika thought to herself. Need to save some for later, right?

But her pussy still became warm and wet.

Oh, what the hell! Erika thought and reached down, slipping the idol from its box.

Immediately, the sense of heat flowed down her arm and into her chest, continuing to awaken sensual pleasures in her breasts and nipples before flowing down to her now sopping pussy.

Glancing at Marisa, who still slumbered, Erika lay down and rubbed the figurine against the opening of her slit. She was so wet already, it slid in easily, making her moan softly. She glanced at her friend's peaceful face, beautiful in relaxation, her full lips so sensual, and began to slide the dildo in and out of her wet pussy.

Images came to her as she slowly fucked herself with dildo. Even though she felt she preferred girls, at least right now, anyway, Erika could almost see a man over her, sliding his hardened length in and out of her. He was rugged, and powerfully built. Strong, muscular arms that were braced on each side of her, his tumble of wavy hair covering his face, his beard well-trimmed…

The idol seemed to pulse powerfully, a wave of warmth and delight that caused Erika to gasp as it rolled through her.

Hmmm… never really been into beards before… Erika mused as she let the fantasy carry her away. But the in-and-out motion continued, relentless and delicious, her pussy soaking the polished figurine, lubricating it with her desire. Oh, fuck… this feels so good!

Marisa gently awoke, and was pleased and excited as she realized that Erika was already (again!) pleasuring herself with the black figurine. She was about to speak, but noticed the far away, dreamy look on Erika's face, and decided not to disturb her lover, her friend.

Instead, Marisa just smiled and slipped her hand down to her own moistening box and began to play with her pussy. She licked her fingers, and slid two of them into her slit, pushing them as deep as she could go.

Damn, but Erika looks so sexy doing that! Marisa mused as she watched her friend get off. Marisa felt pulses of pleasure wash up from her vagina, and she began to work her clit, intensifying the sensation as Erika began to shudder.

Erika gasped, cumming, dreaming of the man who pleasured her so deeply, yet did not cum himself despite the look of absolute desire and need in his face.

"Hey!" she heard a voice say softly.

Erika opened her eyes, and saw Marisa withdraw her fingers from her pussy, bringing them up to her mouth to lick.

"Good morning," Marisa said.

Erika kissed the other girl's hand, tasting her wetness and getting the juice on her lips, before saying, "Good morning to you" and kissing her friend.

"You seemed to sleep well," Erika said, hugging Marisa. She enjoyed the feel of her friend's larger breasts as they rolled over her own.

"Mmm. You seemed to be doing just fine, so I watched," Marisa smiled. "But, I am a little jealous, I must admit. Was it me you were dreaming about? Or someone else?" Marisa gestured at the dildo playfully.

Erika suddenly felt guilty. She proffered the tip of the dildo, still coated with her cum, to Marisa's lips. Marisa went down on it like she was giving head, taking the tip into her sensuous mouth.

"Oh, just dreaming," Erika sighed at last. Marisa's feigned "head" was making her wet again. And Erika found herself wondering what it would be like to actually watch Marisa suck a guy off while she watched. A threesome? The idea caused a gentle ripple to roll through her body.

"Mmm," Marisa moaned, slipping her lips off the dildo. "But I'd rather have some honey straight from the pot, if you know what I mean…"

Erika giggled and spread her thighs. "I think I do," she laughed. "But, I'd kind of like some, too, if you don't mind."

Marisa smiled and swung herself around, straddling Erika's face and leaning down to take a whiff of her friend's aroma. "Oh, I think I can manage," she replied.

Erika lapped at her friend's exposed pussy, enjoying Marisa's skilled tongue on her own. It didn't take long before both girls were moaning, ready to cum. Just as they climaxed, a knock came on Erika's door.

"Honey? Time to wake up," her mom called through the door. "I need to get to work, so I left some breakfast out for you and Marisa. I'll be back early to help set up for this evening. Would you mind setting up while I'm gone? I mean, it is your party and all, but…"

Stifling a gasp, Erika called back, "Sure, mom! We'll take care of it." She slapped Marisa gently on the ass as Marisa tongued her clit while she was trying to answer her mom. "Brat!" she whispered. 

Marisa raised her head, smiling mischievously, then lowering her face back down to lick Erika some more.

Erika was getting sore, even though she was loving every second.

"Alright, then," her mom said. "I'll see you about 2:30"

Held in the hands of this one, I am empowered… I drift - through the door… yes, I sensed this one before… she has energies worth touching… a little now, just a touch…

Leslie paused outside Erika's room. The memory of her dreams, and her masturbating last night, suddenly came back to her. She felt her pussy grow wet, and her nipples suddenly hardened.

What has come over me? she wondered. A part of her wanted to reach under her skirt and play with herself right there, but Leslie overrode her desires.

Need to get to work. And then there's the party, and all the cleaning up… maybe tomorrow. Yes, after everything's done. Maybe I'll take a nice relaxing bath… Leslie thought about the shower massager. She was sure Erika had discovered that the massager was good for other things than just a mere shower.

"Alright, see you later," she said and hurried off, trying to put the images and feelings off that were coming to her now.

Another… I drift… walls and stone are no impediment to me when I have enough power…

Josh woke up feeling slightly hung over. A sudden charge flooded his body, and his cock hardened and throbbed, needing release.

"Holy shit!" Josh moaned. The image of his sister and Marisa eating each other in a 69 filled him with lust. He jerked himself off, the cum falling onto his chest and belly. The orgasm brought him, once again, that mildly buzzed feeling.

Shit. I wish I could stay home and jerk off all day, he thought, hating the realization that he needed to shower and get to work. Maybe there'll be some cute chicks at Erika's party… get 'em high, take them someplace private, do a little dance, make a little love… Josh smiled and wiped himself off with a tissue.

Of all the energies here, it is hers that affect me strongest - that pull me most powerfully… And hers that empower me the most… What is it about this girl? This "Erika"? Why does she seem so familiar? Is it simply the countless number of women I have sensed and pleasured and fed from? But, no - there is something more, here… something deeper…

Marisa and Erika showered together after Josh had left. Marisa began to play with Erika sexually, but Erika gently moved her hand away from her pussy.

"Sorry, chica. I went a little crazy yesterday, and I need a break…" Although, despite the mild soreness, something inside her suddenly felt a hunger become kindled. "Maybe later…" she said and kissed Marisa.

Marisa's hardened nipples flicked over Erika's, causing them both small shocks of pleasure.

"Ok, lover," Marisa purred. "Make that a promise, and I'll let you go."

Erika smiled. "I promise, you can do me later."

"Good!" Marisa replied. "But, would you do me now? I mean, now! Now, now, now, girl…"

Erika felt a mild twinge of excitement, a small part of her that suddenly responded with gentle defiance. Immediately followed by curiosity of submitting to Marisa's desire…

"What?" Marisa asked, curious at the expression on Erika's face.




Incubus



Erika glanced at her sensuous friend, suddenly feeling more turned on.

"Make me," she said and put on her "you talking to me?" look.

"What?" Marisa asked, laughing. But, she, too, suddenly felt a new energy present between the two of them. The tickle of lust in her belly dropped down and began to pulse in her pussy.

"Tell me - what to do," Erika said huskily. "Tell me what you want. Order me to."

Marisa paused, incredibly turned on.

"Eat me," she said quietly.

Erika looked at her, her expression vaguely amused and challenging.

"Ok. I said, 'Eat me!'," Marisa repeated with more conviction. "Get down on your knees and eat me, right here, right now." She lifted one leg and put it on the edge of the tub.

Erika swallowed, heat flashing through her body. She felt a charge go through her, like an electric shock, the moment Marisa was more forceful for real. It felt - good!

"Tell me again," she said softly, gazing down at Marisa's V.

Marisa smiled, allowing herself to enjoy the feeling of power and sexuality. "Get down on your knees and fucking eat me!" she hissed, playing the dom. "Eat my pussy, you little bitch. Now!"

Erika went down, shivering with pleasure, and began to lick Marisa's pussy lips.

Marisa trembled, grasping the shower door to steady herself. The moment she had ordered Erika she had felt a charge go right to her clit. Then, when Erika went down, that charge pulsed powerfully through her whole vagina. The moment Erika's tongue touched her pussy, Marisa nearly came.

"Oh god… that's it… eat me!" she cried softly.

Erika complied, willingly, hungrily. This was new, and it excited her. And she savored the quiver in her pussy, wanting to hold off gratification until later, when she could wholly give herself over to it. 

And I want to try to be in charge, too, she thought. And it made her feel a little tremor at that prospect, as well.

Yes! Good! My Power grows. It is becoming easier to sense, easier to influence, easier to feel…further away… less bound to this accursed fetish. Let this be the one! Let this child, this beautiful young girl, be the one to bring me release!

"Oh god, Erika!" Marisa gasped as she came. Her cum flooded into Erika's mouth and poured down her friend's chin, washed away with the warm shower water than gently rained on the two of them. She trembled and shook, and finally had to sit down on the edge of the tub.

"Whoa! That was intense!" she said as Erika licked her lips clean. 

Erika smiled and cuddled up close to Marisa, her breasts rubbing against her friend's wet, still quivering pussy. "I agree!" she smiled

"Oh!" Marisa sighed as Erika's breasts bounced gently against her pussy. "Oh, that feels nice…"

Erika grinned mischievously and held her boob, pointing the nipple at her friend's slit, and began to fuck her with her tit.

"Oh - oh - oh, yeah…" Marisa sighed and moaned.

It sent little waves of pleasure through Erika, too - though nothing as intense as what Marisa was feeling, she could tell.

"You like that, huh?" Erika asked.

Marisa merely nodded, her eyes closed as her climax neared.

"Good. You can fuck me with your big old beautiful boobs later, too!"

Erika ran her tit up and down, running the nipples over Marisa's exposed clit, bouncing it up and down rapidly on it, causing Marisa to go over the edge.

"Whoa… fuck…" Marisa sighed and slid down into the tub. Erika climbed up on top of her, and kissed her as the water ran over her back.

"Love you, too," she said playfully.

Marisa smiled weakly, almost too delirious to speak. "Mmm - you, too," she mumbled.

Finally, the pair climbed out of the shower and dried each other off. Their lips were becoming chapped from all the kissing and pussy licking, and so they began to ease off of each other. 

But throughout the day, frequent touches and caresses, with the occasional more intense pinch, poke, kiss, or touch, became the way of things. They felt like they had when they first discovered sex, and were in love for the first time. One minute, they're just doing whatever, the next, passionately making out and feeling each other up. It came and went in waves, all day.

They did manage to get the party decorations and table coverings set up.

But it was all too soon that Erika's mother would be home, and the two found it difficult to control their passion and their lust as that time drew near.

I am drawn… away… elsewhere… time and space have little meaning to me…

Leslie had difficulty concentrating at work. The law office she worked in as a paralegal was busy, with cases pending next week. But Leslie kept noticing things like: Mr. Brownwood's secretary had beautiful breasts, and Nancy in Finance had great legs and ass, and seemed to like wearing skirts that showed them off. Mr. Wallace, a junior partner, was a handsome man. Fit, young, younger than Leslie by perhaps ten years, and she caught herself wondering how big a dick he had…

Easy, Les! Get to work, girl. This is a short day, and you've got too much to do!

But the twinges of desire kept distracting her, until Leslie felt she needed to sneak into the wash room and get herself off.

God! I haven't felt like this in years!

She was just about to do exactly that, surrendering to her unusual lust, when Mr. Wallace asked her to help him in the files room.

"Certainly, Mr. Wallace," Leslie said with a frustrated sigh.

"Everything all right?" Henry Wallace asked as Leslie joined him. "You look like you're either pissed or constipated." He smiled, trying to make it a joke.

Leslie swallowed her frustration and forced herself to relax. "Sorry. I have a lot on my mind, is all," she explained.

"Oh, good. I was afraid maybe it was because you weren't getting enough at home or something," Henry joked. God! Did I just say that? he thought, embarrassed and suddenly awkward.

Leslie gasped, unsure of whether Mr. Wallace was making an inappropriate pass at her. But the truth of it stung as well.

"I'm sorry, Leslie," Henry said and shrugged. "I didn't mean anything by it. Truth to tell, if anyone's been getting left out, it's me…" he blushed and looked away.

What the hell is wrong with me today? he wondered. Why did I say that? I could get fired or charged with sexual harassment for something like that!

Leslie felt two things: first, one of the many twinges of desire that had plagued her all day came over her just then; and second, Mr. Wallace seemed truly sorry for his comment. His embarrassment made him even a little - cute.

Henry took a breath and felt relief when Leslie didn't slap him or storm off right away. In fact, he suddenly noticed that she was a very attractive woman for someone in their mid-forties. And as soon as he realized she was attractive, Henry felt a stir in his crotch. 

Leslie took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. As Mr. Wallace stood there, she felt a sudden urge to drop down and unzip his fly and suck his cock.

Easy, girl! Hold on a minute…

"It's - okay, Mr. Wallace," she said. "I won't take offense." She thought she detected a small tenting effect in Mr. Wallace's trousers. And it made her pussy pulse, suddenly getting hot and wet.

"Henry, please, Leslie," Henry said and took a step back, turning in an attempt to hide his surprising erection.

Leslie closed the file room door behind her. Almost unconsciously, she turned the knob to lock it as well.

"Very well, Henry," she said. Her voice surprised her. It almost purred with sensuality.

Henry felt his dick pulse, his hard on undeniable. And the way Leslie looked at him made him want to abandon all reason and just take her, right there on the floor.

"Uh - ahum - well, we, uh, should…" he flustered as Leslie prowled closer.

Leslie felt powerful, and desirable, as her lust washed through her unchecked. She stepped close to Henry, and let one hand brush gently against his erection. He moaned, and it filled Leslie with a feeling of power.

"Something wrong, Henry?" she said, teasing. "I'm sorry to hear about you not getting a turn at bat. I guess I can understand because, in answer to your earlier comment, the answer is: Yes. I am not getting enough at home. I've not been getting any since my husband left. Think you could help out?"

She tugged at his belt, popping it open.

Henry looked at her for a moment before grabbing her face and kissing her roughly.

"Oh, fuck, Leslie! I want you. I want you so bad!" he moaned.

Leslie responded in kind, pulling open her blouse and kicking off her shoes. Henry pulled open his pants and slipped out of them, his erection standing out through his boxers.

"Oh, my, Henry. What a lovely bat!" Leslie purred and dropped down to her knees. She gazed longingly at his cock before taking it with one hand and slipping her mouth over the head of it.

Henry gasped and moaned, standing up on his toes from the sensation.

"Ah, fuck, Leslie! That feels so good!"

Leslie loved to hear it, and loved the sensation of his throbbing cock in her mouth. Determined to enjoy this opportunity for all its worth, Leslie sucked him hard, toying with him mercilessly with her tongue.

"Fuck! Les, I'm gonna' cum if you keep that up!" Henry warned.

Leslie smiled but kept up her ministrations. It wasn't long before she felt the tightening signs that indicated explosion was imminent.

"Oh - oh - oh, fuck!" Henry cried as he shot off in her mouth.

Leslie was a little out of practice, and so she choked a bit as Henry's cum shot into her mouth and throat. But she simply gripped his cock tighter with her lips and hand, slowing the flow, and swallowed his jizz down. She licked her lips and sighed as she came off his cock.

"Ah! Thank you, Mr. Wallace. I needed that. Now, perhaps you could do me?"

Henry looked down at this incredible woman and smiled hungrily.

"I'd love to, Leslie. I'd love to!"

Pushing all the items off the small desk nearby, Henry picked Leslie up and set her on the desk, her legs off the side facing him.

He opened his tie, loosening his collar, and crouched down between her legs.

"Just let me know what you like," he said as he bent forward and kissed Leslie's pussy.

She had a strong, musky scent, and was a little hairy - not having trimmed her bush in a long time. But Henry paid no mind. He simply savored the taste of this woman's juices as they flowed out of her pussy lips, and did his best to bring her as much pleasure as she had given him.

"Oh, Henry! Yes! That's it! That's good! Oh, my…" Leslie sighed. She forgot all about her work, where they were, even her daughter's party. The world became simply the exquisite sensations washing through her body as this younger man ate her out.

Henry was pleased, and listened to the sighs and moans as he lapped at her pussy. He sucked her clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, but that seemed too intense for Leslie, and she gently guided him away for the moment. So he concentrated on the lips, circling them and licking them long and slow. That drove Leslie wild.

"Oh, god, that's it, Henry! Just like that. Don't stop!"

Henry continued until finally Leslie gasped, her thighs tightening around his head, and her hands drew his face tight against her pussy. He felt her cum, and her juices flowed into his mouth. Drops of her cum fell on his tie, but Henry didn't even notice.

By now, his cock was erect again. Standing, he found Leslie at a perfect angle for him to enter her as she lay on the desk. Without a word, he simply slid his hard cock into her still trembling pussy.

Leslie's eyes widened at the sensation. It had been years since a cock had been in her pussy, and she forgot how good it felt!

"Oh, yes, Henry! Fuck me! Fuck me with that hard cock of yours!"

Henry began to piston in-and-out of Leslie's wet snatch, causing them both sensations of absolute delight.

"Ah, fuck, Les…" he sighed. "I'm gonna' cum again!"

Leslie wanted it inside so bad, she ached. But, not being on the Pill, she simply nodded and pulled Henry out of her before he came. He shot off on her belly, his cum coating her pubic hair and pooling in her belly button. The sensation of his hot cum on her skin made her orgasm as well, and she lay there gasping and panting, delirious and hungry for more.

"Uh, Henry? Are you - uhm - busy tonight?" she asked, tentatively.

Henry smiled, catching his breath as well. "On a Friday night? As it so happens, I am free this evening. Why?"

Leslie smiled like a cat, licking her lips. "I'm having a birthday party for my daughter, and was wondering if you'd like to - come?" Leslie surprised herself with the deliberate double-entendre. It felt good to be a little wicked!

"I'd love to come, Les," Henry said, returning the Cheshire grin. "Just tell me when and where."

Leslie was delighted. And excited. For her, the party couldn't come soon enough, and she found herself wishing she didn't have to host but could sneak off with this young man and just fuck like crazy.

"Great! My place, any time after 8. I'll give you directions."

The two began to reconstruct their professional attire. 

"Now, just what files were you trying to find?" she asked.

The energy is spent… I need to recharge… replenish my Power… I need - a host… a body to inhabit more fully… perhaps then I might find the release I seek… a host… but where?

Jason Phillips dug through his pile of old mail. He worked by the "archeological filing system" - old stuff on the bottom, new stuff at the top. It was inefficient, but it worked. As he did, an envelope fell on the floor.

Turning it over, he noticed it was an invitation. Oh, that's right! Erika's birthday party celebration. 

He looked at the picture of the cute blond girl that accompanied it. Jason had worked with Erika on a summer theatre project, and had sort of mentored her, encouraging her to continue to pursue her artistic talents. If he showed up, he'd be kind of a surprise guest. He was more than twice Erika's age, but had come to respect the girl when she was just a bright, talented sixteen-year old. He had been impressed with her intelligence and maturity. Now that she was eighteen and a graduate, he was curious to see how she had grown.

Checking the clock, he said, "I have enough time to shower and shave. I guess I could pop in and say 'Congratulations'." 

He looked over the invite, and was pleased to see that the address was not at all that far away from his apartment. 

I sense subtle energies… shifts are occurring… is this a sign of promise?

Leslie arrived home closer to 3pm, distracted and a little irritable. Ever since her fuck in the files office, she had felt a growing hunger. She had even gone so far as to caress her pussy while she was stopped at stop lights on the drive home. The first thing she wanted to do was jump in the shower and get off with the massager.

"Maybe then I can relax a little a focus on Erika's party and entertaining our guests," she mused as she entered the house.

Walking in, she happened to catch Marisa on the short step-ladder, her perfect ass displayed as she reached up to pin more streamers to the wall. Leslie felt her pussy moisten.

"Oh, hi, mom!" Erika said. She blushed because she, too, had been enjoying the view of her friend's ass. 

"Hi, Mrs. C!" Marisa said, turning to look. Leslie could swear the girl deliberately pushed her ass out slightly for a better display.

"Looks good, girls," Leslie said. She felt very warm and desperate to get in her shower and give herself some relief! "I - I'll be out in a while. It was… quite a day at work." And how! The memory of Henry cumming inside pushed her over the edge, and Leslie could feel her fluids beginning to drip down her thigh.

Erika watched, curious, as her mother swiftly went down the hall to her room.

Marisa grinned wickedly, turning to face her friend. She parted her legs while staying on the ladder so that Erika could see the edge of her pussy up her shorts.

"Do you like what you see?" Marisa asked, teasing.

Erika heard the shower go on, and hurried forward, leaning to kiss her friend's pussy right through the shorts.

"You know I do," she said. Then she traced the bare edges of Marisa's slit with her tongue, causing the other girl to shiver with pleasure. Marisa put a hand on Erika's head. Erika smiled, and gently pulled the shorts and panties aside to get a good taste of Marisa's now streaming pussy.

"Your mom might find us, you know," Marisa said quietly, her eyes half-closed as she enjoyed Erika's attentions.

"Mm-hmm," Erika murmured, the vibration making Marisa tremble as it washed through her.

"Oh, fuck, girl," Marisa sighed, surrendering to her pleasure. She leaned back against the wall, opening her thighs further, allowing Erika better access.

Erika just focused on pleasuring her friend. The idea they might get caught made it all that much more exciting, and caused intense pulses of sexual desire to shoot through her.

Erika was beginning to imagine even more fun tonight, with more friends, and her special "toy" from Marisa…

Marisa came, and sat shaking as Erika licked up all her juices. The two kissed just as they heard the shower turn off from down the hall. 

Taking Marisa's hand, Erika had the other girl follow her quickly to her room where she closed the door. She was just about to pull the wood box from under her bed when a knock came on her door, then it opened as her mom stuck her head in. Her mom was wrapped in a towel, and she peeked in shyly.

"Sorry, honey. I hope I'm not interrupting, but - could one of you help me pick out an outfit for tonight?" She blushed a little.

"Why, Mrs. C! Do you have a beau coming over?" Marisa asked playfully.

Erika felt surprised. "Do you, mom?"

Leslie looked down, her redness increasing. "Uhm… yes. Yes, I do. A - friend. From work."

Erika was mildly stunned, but also felt happy for her mom. She was also dying to get off, and felt torn between a chance to masturbate, and maybe make out with Marisa before the party (again!), or help her mom.

"I'll help, Mrs. C," Marisa offered with a smile. She winked at Erika. "Erika here was just going to get off, and I think she could use the privacy."

Erika's jaw dropped, and Leslie's eyes widened.

"Erika?"

"She's just kidding, mom," Erika said, her heart racing. She looked at Marisa curious and annoyed.

Marisa stepped to Leslie and took her arm. "Really, Mrs. C - it was just a joke." She winked mockingly.

Leslie blushed again, but her need to look good for Henry overrode any awkwardness. Plus, Marisa's touch made her pulse speed up, and she was distracted by it.

"It's okay, hun, either way. You're an adult, now. I have to… get used to it, I guess."

Erika was surprised to hear her mother say that, and it felt good to relax a little about it. "Thanks, mom. I - I do get off, sometimes. I just - need to - you know?"

Leslie smiled, nodding. "I do. It's - perfectly natural. Just - be careful is all." Leslie really didn't know why she had felt the way she had about it before other than that was how she was raised. Catholic guilt. Sex was taboo, not meant to be enjoyed. Stupid to think that pleasure has to be sinful!

Marisa gently tugged on Leslie's arm. "C'mon, Mrs. C. Let's make you look hot!"

Leslie smiled, embarrassed, but enjoying the young girl's enthusiasm. "Thank you, Marisa. Do you really think you can?"

Marisa looked Leslie over and grinned. "Definitely!"

Leslie felt a small, pleasant shock go through her body.

Energies are building… like an approaching storm… I feel them… I sense them… they pleasure me and torment me at the same time… lust, desire, pleasure, hunger, sensual delight; the tastes, the sounds, the smells, the feel of human flesh and sex… Ah! They call me and I respond, my desire feeding the storm - the storm feeding my desire! Let me find release!




Incubus



She sat up in bed, pushing back the white comforter, her toes touching the spot of moonlight on the wooden floor. She didn't know if she was ready for this, to be dreaming on Halloween. But then, she wasn't sure whether this was a dream.

The shadows of maple leaves moved like sand across the wall as they tossed in the breeze. Outside her window and down the precipitous cliff, the rolling of the waves on the shore was like the sighing of the sleeping world. From where she sat, she could see a big white path stretching across the water, leading to where the moon hung naked in the sky looking somehow startled and embarrassed.

Something was wrong.

Above the gentle snores and steady breathing of the other guests she could hear a muffled thumping from downstairs—alive, urgent, and strangely subdued—and it filled her with dread. Something was struggling, and yet no one else in the inn had woken up. No one else had heard it. Something seemed to be thrashing about downstairs and fighting for its life in the eerie silence of the house 

Leah closed her eyes. Maybe she was dreaming. The sound had the stubborn muscularity of a heartbeat, but wildly irregular and desperate, and finally she couldn't stand it anymore. She went to the door and stepped out into the hall.

The moonlight fell on polished floors and the silent uprights of the banister. The hallway was empty and the stark zigzag of the stairs descending into the darkness looked lethal. A paper skeleton with a jack-o-lantern head hung limply over the stairwell, revolving slowly, pointing the way down to that horrible thumping.

She walked to the head of the stairs, put her hand on the banister and looked down.

It was a fish. A large fish, with a sack over its head, thrashing and writhing at the foot of the stairs, suffocating in the air.

Leah raced down the steps. There was no one there. The front door was closed; there was no water on the floor, just the thumping, dying fish. She pulled the sack from its head and saw the eyes, cold, lifeless, expressionless eyes, and yet the creature was dying. And then she saw the lips, that they were like human lips, soft and needy and seeking, pleading with her, and she saw then that the movements of the fish's body were sexual and obscene, the twistings and writhings of a lover's body in desperate need of fulfillment. She realized with a sick feeling that the fish needed sex—needed love—that the fish was suffocating from lack of love, and she felt this cloying, almost nauseating sense of answering arousal of her own...

She woke up in her bed, the shadows of the leaves scrabbling frantically at the underside of the canopy, like things trying to escape. As if shadows could escape.

*****

She raised herself on one elbow and looked about the room, trying to remember where she was and trying to forget the look in the fish's eyes, the obscene writhing of its body. It had some sort of legs, a vagina lined with silvery scales...

She took a sip of water from the glass on the nightstand and brushed her hair back from her face. The room was just a room; the shadows were only leaves. The wind sighed through the beach grass and the surf crashed with reassuring steadiness on the beach below.

Well this is what she got. This is what she got for trying to invoke supernatural dreams on Halloween. She'd taken a room in this old inn just for this purpose; chosen one overlooking the sea where she knew the moon would shine on her and aid her in her foolishness. Candles burned on the dresser, and cups filled with water stood around the bed. She'd put hibiscus and valerian under her pillow, and wore her most romantic nightgown, that laced across the bodice. The clock on the dresser said 12:27, so it was indeed Halloween, although Halloween morning rather than night, but still, it counted.

She didn't really believe in all this, but she didn't really not believe either. In any case, she couldn't very well stay in town because then she'd have to go to Jen's party, and now that she and Tony weren't together anymore, how would that look? And if she stayed home that would only be worse, showing her humiliation at her loss. She'd have to put up with their sympathetic stares and knowing looks. Jen's crowd was like that—like hyenas, waiting for anay sign of weakness or blood. Better to just make up an excuse to get out of town, spend the time walking on the beach, viewing the autumn colors and playing with her tarot and teasing the occult.

She got out of bed and walked to the window. Outside, the dried beach grass bowed before the wind, tossing restlessly down to the cliff that overlooked the sea. Even the clouds seemed to be fleeing the skies. Why do they run, she thought. Why does everything seem to be fleeing?

Far in the distance and away from the moon's path of light, she could see the lights of a ship in the darkness headed out to sea, and she wondered as she often did if there might be a man on board she was destined to love and who was destined to love her—if fate was even then including her in the vast games it played or whether she were still just being ignored. If he was out there, would he understand what she felt when she looked out the window on a night like this? Was he wondering the same things about her as he gazed at the shore? It seemed like there should be some way to tell, some way to capture all these thoughts and missed connections and examine them and sort through them and understand the workings of that hidden world. What happened to those thoughts and feelings? Did they just all curl up and blow away like the dead leaves? Or did they echo somewhere forever, a feeling once felt being like a pebble dropped into a pool—a spirit pool, a pool where all feelings existed forever. Did her imaginary lover feel the ripples from her heart? Did she feel his?

Halloween was Samhain, the night when the crack between the two worlds widened. One world was our world, the world of the everyday. The other world must be like that spirit pool, that's what Leah had decided. A world not just of ghosts and spirits, but of lost feelings and missed opportunities, of unspoken thoughts and loves unrealized, a world where words were never needed.

The fish dream disturbed her. She knew she was the fish and she hated it.

She got back into bed and pulled the covers up. The wind blew harder and the leaves fluttered urgently against the window, as if to tell her something. Oh, give up, she thought, turning her back to the window. Why do you cling to those branches so stubbornly when fall's already here? Tomorrow will be November. Just let go and fly away and die! But the leaves hung on, still baring autumn's florid colors and not yet dry and sere, and secretly she was pleased.

*****

The waves beat on the beach below. The ship moves on the water, leaving her behind. Something stirs the candles, but when the comforter slips down off her body, Leah doesn't move, and now the shadows of the leaves dance over her sheet and nightgown as well. The room has grown warm so she doesn't miss the heavy quilt. She clings to the cover sheet, only vaguely aware of the darkness that gathers like a thick shadow under the canopy of the bed, a roiling, muscular mist.

Her dreams this time are sweet and sensual—sensual enough to make her smile and stir in her bed as she feels a warm breath upon the inside of her ankle, the lightest touch on the outside of her thigh. She doesn't see the water tremble in the cups or the ripples of light they throw on the ceiling. She barely feels the sheet slipping from her hands and dragging slowly down her body with the whisper of fabric upon silk, over her breasts and her stomach and across the plane of her hips; down across her thighs and her knees, her shins, and up over the hills of her toes to lie in a heap at the foot of the bed.

Her nightgown is silk, the color of moonlight. Three dimples appear on her thigh as if she's being touched, but no fingers are visible. Leah smiles as the dimples slide up her leg then disappear, then reappear and repeat the motion. She sighs.

The dimples appear on her breast. They slide across the bottom fullness, then circle across the top and disappear, as if waiting. She's sensitive there and she smiles, thinking on some level of her mind how typical of her it is that she'd dream of having her breasts caressed before falling back to sleep. The dimples reappear—four this time, two on each breast—and perform the same gesture, circling her nipples, mirroring each other, shadows of invisible pressure moving over her flesh. They finish by copping her breasts gently and squeezing, the fabric bunching between invisible hands.

Leah moans and opens her eyes but she's still asleep and sees nothing, not even the darkness directly above her. She closes her eyes again and falls back into her dream as into the arms of a lover, sighing, her hands on her chest.

The bodice of her gown fastens with a lace. As her breathing steadies and her sleep deepens, the laces begin to move. Slowly, the bow unties. The lace crawls like a snake through the eyelets, slowly slipping beneath her fingers as it removes itself from her bodice. Unconsciously, Leah raises her hands to her pillow, as if to give the laces room to move, placing them on either side of her head. The maple leaves toss excitedly against the window and cast wild shadows over her face, and the moon looks down in hollow wonder as the lace creeps out of the last eyelet and drops silently to the floor.

At that moment her eyes open and she knows she's not alone. She feels the bodice of her gown being opened, exposing her breasts and her eyes go wide with surprise. It's like a dream. She can't speak, can't cry out or move.

 she thinks frantically.

It is I. The voice is rich and masculine and terribly intimate—somewhere in her head, strange and familiar at the same time.

Who are you?.

You know who I am, he says in her head.

I don't! I don't know who you are or what you're doing! How'd you get in here?

I'm the one you've called, the one you've been calling. I've come to you from a great, long ways away. Just to be with you, Leah. Just to be with you on this night.

She tries to struggle, to move her hands, but it's as if she's paralyzed. All she can see above her is the slowly roiling cloud of darkness. Fear clots in her stomach.

 I never called anyone! I don't want you here! Go away! Why can't I move, damn it?

You called me, his words say. You called me every time you walked in the woods and saw the leaves change color. Every time you stood on that beach and felt the sea grass whip around your ankles, or felt the world was so beautiful it would break your heart. When you looked at the moon on face of the water tonight and felt that ache in your bones, you called me, Leah. You called me. From that place where feelings go, you called me.

As she hears his words she can see him begin to appear above her, as if emerging from a fog, or being formed of a fog—a man, and more than a man, an animal too, perhaps wolf, perhaps bear or cat—glistening coal black with muscles of polished ebony, and such power in him! His face is indistinct, as if she can't focus on it all at the same time. But his eyes! At first she thinks they burn like coals, but then she sees it's their depth that gives that effect, their incredible depth and intelligence that goes so deep it's like gazing into the heart of a star. He knows her. He knows her with a certainty and intimacy that stuns her, and as well as he knows her he wants her. He wants her with a desire she's never dreamed of seeing in a man's eyes. It's too much for her—dizzying, overwhelming, irresistible.

As she tries to tear her eyes from his, she feels her arm start to move. Against her will, as if she has no control, she feels herself lift her left hand, palm out, as if in greeting, and she sees his own right hand lift to touch it, pressing his palm against hers. His hand is warm, but much bigger than hers, and his touch is not entirely human. It's like touching another kind of life, a different kind of intelligence, and for some reason, it's deeply thrilling. 

It makes her gasp, and then his hand is gone, and hers is back on the pillow. 

His eyes hold hers and she feels his words. Like an arrow shot from a bow I've come to you, to sink into your sweet earth. From the crack between the two worlds I've come to you. I am the moon and you are the light. I am the darkness and you are the night. Without one there is no other.

His hands are on her wrists like bands of iron. Her bodice is open, her naked breasts yearning up for him as if of their own will. She can't resist his desire and she closes her eyes as if to hide as his lips come down on hers with trembling hunger. She's helpless as he feeds on her mouth and she can't help but feel herself respond. She feels him quiver, as if the beast in him surrenders to some power she didn't even know she had and she feels the scorching breath of his nostrils on her cheek. He moans softly as he kisses her, his tongue slipping between her lips so that her mouth is filled with his strength. The hardness of his chest presses against her nipples and she feels the strong beat of his heart in her own chest.

Wait! she thinks. Wait!

His hand goes beneath her and takes hold of her panties and, like stripping the leaf from a blade of grass, he skins them down off her hips and raised thighs as she's arched, locked in that helpless kiss. She still can't move and dimly remembers that the touch of an incubus paralyzes his victim.

An incubus—a phantom lover who comes to a woman and takes her in her sleep. Leah knows that's what he is as soon as she thinks it, and it thrills her as it frightens her.

Yes! That's what I am, he says, for his thoughts are like words now, even though his lips are pressed against hers and his breath is hot in her mouth.

She'd heard about them, she'd read about them, but somehow she'd expected something more ghostly, more insubstantial, not this solid weight of masculine hardness that makes the bed creak softly as he positions himself on top of her. She can smell him—a scent like wild rain and horses and warm rock—and his tongue is so alive in her mouth and so muscular, almost making her swoon in his selfish hunger for her.

Already he's worked his way between her legs and she's unable to resist. Her knees lift to form a saddle for him, moving as if on strings, her gown spilling down her thighs and puddling in a white pool upon her stomach, exposing the naked slit of her sex. He wraps his arms around her and the hard dome of his cock slides against her pussy like some devilish snake looking for its burrow. His breathing is heavy and quick with excitement and the air is thick with animal heat. Leah still can't move and is all but eclipsed by the bulk of his body. All she can see is the shadows of the leaves on the canopy of the bed looming over his shoulder as she feels his hand trail down her body. 

"Oh don't!" she says. "Not like this!"

"Yes. Exactly like this."

He strokes her between her open legs and Leah closes her eyes in fear. He's testing her, seeing if she's ready, and she's shocked to feel his finger glide wetly through a film of her own lubrication. She can't believe her body's so aroused, that she can respond to him like this, but then his cock finds her and begins to open her and slide inside and it's incredible. She can feel in her mind how much he needs her. She can feel his deep, hard, masculine ache and it almost makes her want her herself, to be fucking herself along with him. She realizes she's in his mind too, just as he's in hers, that he knows what she's feeling just as she knows what he's feeling, and it's like nothing she's ever experienced.

She cries out as he sends the entire length of his veiny stalk into her, filling her completely then thrusting again, convulsively as if stamping her with a seal, grinding his groin against her so she can feel the power in his thighs, blinding her with pleasure.

She jerks her hips up to meet him and they freeze there in temporary truce, each waiting for the other to adjust. Her move was so instinctive she doesn't even realize she's moved. She still feels paralyzed, but she's aware she's trembling, quivering around his cock like a speared animal. Her body's responding to him with a need that's beyond her ability to control, and it's shameful and exciting at the same time. There's nothing she can do. 

He keeps his cock there, as he smoothes back her hair and moves his fingers over her face, stroking and caressing her. His lips follow where his fingers have been, his kisses tender as if in apology for the brutality of his cock. She begins to relax, telling herself it's a dream and that dreams can't hurt you, not really, and as she begins to relax her hips fall back into the softness of the bed, leaving him. He suddenly spears into her again with a savage, possessive thrust, like a fisherman setting a hook, and Leah cries out as her hips again jerk up reflexively to intercept the blow.

She doesn't know what this is. If it's a dream she should wake up because it's too real, and yet it can't be real because it's just impossible. She can see him clearly now, or rather, she can see those parts of him that aren't covered in shadow, and he's incredibly handsome in a bestial, feral kind of way, and much too big to be anyone in a costume. His eyes are closed, his mouth slack with pleasure. His nostrils are wide as he breathes deeply, trying to control his passion, and again she can clearly sense his desire for her, his animal need. The way he aches for her is astonishing. He aches so much it makes her ache as well, and so when he starts to fuck her, it's almost like a relief.

He's slow at first, tentative, pulling his cock out and then sliding it back in as if unsure of what might happen. He's incredibly hard, like a piece of ebony, and he fits her perfectly. Each stroke is just they way she wants it and she stares at his shadowed face in amazement. He gets up on his knees and starts moving faster, rocking his hips and Leah closes her eyes in bliss, trying to hide the raw pleasure she feels.

He pulls his knees higher and slips his hands down under her ass. He's easily able to encompass the globes of her ass in his big palms and he holds her hips off the bed as he slides his dick into her with increasing rhythm. His big head is at her breasts, kissing and licking them, giving her love bites and drawing his big tongue against them. He teases her nipples, tracing circles around their margins with his tongue, then lashing the tip until they stand up for his teeth. He nips at them and tugs them, draws up great sucking mouthfuls of flesh and runs his teeth over them, and all the while his thick, hard cock is pistoning relentlessly between her legs like some infernal machine. 

Leah is lost now. Her body's totally betrayed her and she has to bite her lip to keep from crying out in her own animal pleasure. Something about her own paralyzed helplessness excites her terribly, as if she's not responsible for this but can only witness her own debauched seduction, the way he uses her for his own selfish pleasure, and it sets her on fire. She can see the ecstasy on his face as he fucks her, feel the desire in the way his fingers dig into her ass and the feverish way his cock slams into her with all the strength of that massive body. 

It's too much for her—too much. It's like riding a stallion, a powerful black stallion across the night sky, and she can feel the wind in her hair and the stars against her face and feel the muscles of the incredible beast moving atop her body and between her legs. She no longer cares whether this is real or not. She no longer cares about anything except what she's feeling.




Incubus



"Oh yes," she whispers, then cries: "Fuck me! Fuck me!"

And suddenly she realizes she can move, as if a spell is broken. Suddenly her arms obey her and her legs have strength and immediately she thrusts her hips up at him and reaches for his hair. His hair is rough, like long fur or beach grass, and she looks into his wild eyes and pulls his face down to hers and kisses him desperately, her own small tongue battling with his as his cock pistons in and out of her. She sets her feet on the mattress and begins to fuck him back, sliding that tight ring of muscle along his cock, showing him what she can do and thrilling to his moans of pleasure as she rolls her hips against him.

She's never been like this in her life—never been so wild and free of inhibitions, so much of a sexual animal, but now it's like some mask has fallen away, like she's left some old Leah standing on the beach or walking in the woods and she's someone entirely new. And when he pulls his cock out and says, "Come now, precious one! On your knees!" she neither hesitates nor wonders at her eagerness. He's her beast and she's his bitch and what he wants, she wants. She quickly turns over and gets on her knees, ass in the air like an animal in heat.

He lifts her nightgown and slides it down her back, then pushes her down till she's on her elbows in a position of obscene acceptance. Leah doesn't fight. She feels him move behind her and she parts her legs so he can see what she knows he wants to see—her pussy, shamelessly exposed from behind like an animal's, her labia shining with eagerness to be mounted. She even flexes in lewd invitation and hears him growl like a bear in response. 

Yes, she thinks. Like this. Like we're animals. Like we belong to this world.

We are animals. We do belong to this world.

She looks back over her shoulder and sees him looming behind her—huge shoulders, massive head, moonlight gleaming on sweat-soaked ebony skin, his eyes like fire in that shadowy, menacing face.

And this time he enters her like fire, like a thunderbolt, thrusting deep, taking all of her at once. Leah grunts as he grabs her hips and starts to fuck her, making the bed rock and creak in his violence. She reaches out for the headboard and pushes against it with her thin arms to withstand the force of his blows and her breasts slosh back and forth as she lets him take whatever he wants, plundering her body, filling her with cock, churning her insides to foam.

She has a vision of the fish, the things that move in the dark, the life in the earth and beneath the soil, the stars in the sky, the moon. Pleasure boils up in her like something rich and obscene, filthy and fertile, and then his hand is between her legs, milking her clit, delving into her pussy, pulling her nipples like she's not even human anymore, and her body fills with a gigantic humming roar, an orgasmic roar that comes from the toes on her feet and the ends of her hair and from inside and outside and she hears him snarl and howl like an animal and his cock jerks inside her and then he pulls her off and spins her around and suddenly his prick is in her mouth and she's choking on his thick ribbons of come that pulse and bubble past her lips even as she gags out her own cries of release, the strands of semen webbing her lips and dripping down her cheeks, falling on her breasts and spilling onto the sheets.

She's dizzy with pleasure and lust and a deep sense of fulfillment truer and more profound than anything she's ever known, and all she can do is lie there crookedly on the bed, half on her side, as this incubus spills gout after gout of his filthy discharge into her overflowing mouth, himself wracked by spasms of release that knot his stomach and clench his massive thighs and make his dick jerk and strain like something desperate to reach her, dying like a fish out of water.

*****

When she awoke the next day it was already late, late enough for the earliest trick-or-treaters to be already out and yelling excitedly in the street. The day was overcast and it had rained, and the rain had beaten the leaves from the trees. The trees seemed naked now and seemed thankful for it. The world had changed, had become calmer somehow.

The bed was a mess, a pillow on the floor. The candles had all burned out, the cups of water stood on the floor where she'd left them. The bodice of her nightgown was open, and she found the lace on the floor right next to the bed. She looked down at her breasts but saw no marks, but she still felt his hands and mouth on them, where he'd touched her and bitten her in his passion. She passed her hand over her face but her face was clean. But what had she expected?

She remembered everything.

She remembered afterwards asking him, "Do you have to go?" and he'd answered, "Yes, but I can come back. You just have to call me. You remember how to call me."

At the time she thought she did, but now in the daylight, she wasn't so sure.

She got up from the bed and went to the window overlooking the front street and the sea. She was sore between her legs and she needed to shower. Down below she saw groups of kids in costumes running back and forth with their bags while their parents stood in the street talking and keeping an eye on things and holding the younger ones' hands. Out on the sea she saw another ship, this one headed into port, and she wondered whether the two ships saw each other during the night.

There was a maple leaf stuck to the window—a perfect leaf—red around the edges, fading through orange and yellow to a spot of still-living green in the center. The leaf caught her attention, almost startling her. It seemed so personal the way it was pasted there, flat against the glass, stuck there by the rain. She looked at it closely—the delicate veination, the way the colors faded one into another, the graceful curve of the stem and the clean break at the end. It moved her to think of all the billions of leaves just this perfect that went unnoticed by any eye every fall, year after year, century after century—all this beauty that went totally unnoticed.

It was like those feelings that went unnoticed, the feelings she'd imagined were consigned to the spirit world where they lived on forever.

She looked at the leaf again and was struck by how mow much it resembled a hand pressed up against the glass, the five lobes like five fingers, offered to her in greeting. Slowly, she raised her hand and pressed her palm against the glass, matching the leaf from her side.

And suddenly she thought she remembered how to call him.