3 comments/ 5180 views/ 15 favorites Malcubus Ch. 06: Service with a Smile By: Elecebra {Okay, fine, you can't talk. Just ignore me then. Because that worked out so well yesterday.} "We still need two cheeseburgers for drive-through!" I called as I put the burger in the paper bag. My joints were still creaking after last night, and my co-workers had already asked about the bruises on my wrists. {Pit take you, Eric, have it your way. I'll ask a question, and you just nod for 'yes' and shake your head for 'no'. I'll feel it through the amulet, okay? Easy peezy, titty squeezy.} My co-worker Samantha had already gotten the Coke ready, so I put the tray on the counter. "Number 64?" I called. {Okay, with regards to what we're doing on the weekend... how do you feel about anal sex?} The old woman gave me a strange look as she picked up her Big Mac. I reassembled a normal facial expression and tended to the cash register. {You're interested? Fantastic! But anal's practically passé nowadays, right? I don't want you to get bored on our first Saturday night together.} I hit the wrong button and kept the next customer waiting an extra couple of seconds while I re-entered his order. {I'll just spitball here, and you go yay or nay. Cheerleaders. Schoolgirls. Schoolteachers. Fisting.} I got through the next order but bumped into Samantha on the way to the drinks machine. She looked at me oddly. Was it because I was being a klutz this shift, or because she'd felt exactly what I was smuggling underneath my McApron? {You're not giving me much to work with here, Eric. Exhibitionism is always fun - we've done a little of that already. I know we've talked about dominance and submission, but BDSM is a whole genre of its own, so: ball gags. Spanking. Blindfolds. Breath play -- ooh, you did seem to like that this morning...} The next time I had to cross past Samantha, it almost turned into one of those awkward will-they-won't-they bluffing dances. Normally I choose a direction and stick with it, come hell or high traffic, but I really didn't want to bump her hip with my crotch again. Especially not with Rosie still beaming her thoughts right into my loins. I knew I shouldn't have taken the pentacle amulet to work. {You're no fun,} my succubus sent indignantly. {You've got to have some nasty kinks, Eric, some verboten fantasies, and I'm going to fulfil them with or without your permission.} For a precious few moments, there were no customers waiting in line and no burgers ready in the chute. I raised a casual hand to my face and mouthed words quietly to her. 'This is absolutely not the time, Rosie.' {When is the time? Fire and brimstone, master, I've been up here four days and we barely know each other. You hide me from your family, you don't take me anywhere interesting, it's just me yapping away into your depressingly non-filthy mind...} 'Which is very distracting.' I took my hand away from my mouth. "Michael." My manager raised his eyebrows at me, then jerked his head towards the completed Quarter Pounder in the chute. I dutifully juggled burger, fries and liquid sugar onto a tray and served it. {Maybe you shouldn't be leaving me at home so often, then? If I can be Rosie Murdoch sometimes, why can't I be her all the time? I could explore the 21st century, and you wouldn't have to listen to me talk about hand jobs, blow jobs, tit jobs, rim jobs - hey, that's one we haven't done. Before you fuck me in the ass, and I do SO want you to fuck me in the ass, maybe I could lick yours?} I was gazing off into the middle distance when the store's automatic doors slid open, letting a gang of tradies pour in from the parking lot. In a matter of moments the line was six deep in front of my cash register. {We'll do that before exploring any other fetishes, then. Damnation, now I really want you to fuck my ass; it's hard to think about anything else.} She blew me a telepathic kiss. {Try and be less distracting, master.} I took the first order with my teeth gritted. *** Eight hours trickled by like eighteen. I switched from front counter to food prep at the first opportunity; at least standing in front of the fryer nobody could see the mountainous contour lines on my apron. That was the downside of a magically-boosted libido, especially when Rosie was whispering into my brain - although if I was being honest with myself, my brain was pretty filthy even without her prompting. This morning hadn't helped. After our almost-torturous lovemaking last night, she'd finally let me fall (and remain) unconscious around 2am. When I woke up just before my alarm, my whole body hurt. Every limb ached, scratch marks and bruises stung all over my body, and my supposedly indefatigable dick was actually sore. Being completely honest, I was the furthest from horny I'd been since she'd Shaped my libido, so I was a little nervous when I opened my eyes to see Rosie kneeling over my face. "Master," Rosie said severely, "I'm afraid we have a problem." Something dripped onto my neck. "I have spent the last six hours lying next to you, touching your naked skin, holding myself back from waking you up and continuing the greatest sex either of us have ever had. I've had all sorts of urges..." She was in demonic form, voluptuous and muscular and wickedly horned, and the intensity in her eyes was starting to scare me. I couldn't even see the lower part of her face over the mountains of her breasts. "You're about to leave me alone for another day, and whatever shall I do? Just sweat and drip and burn with unsatisfied lust?" That explained the small puddle forming on my throat, just under where she crouched. "Ah," I said, my throat crackling. "I don't suppose 'sorry' will cut it?" I felt her tail coil about my leg like a hungry python. "I have a better idea, my darling master," she said, leaning forward over her breasts so I could see the wicked grin on her lips. "Your breakfast this morning will be my pussy. If you can make me cum in the... two minutes and thirty seconds left before your alarm goes off, I might consider letting you go to work rather than holding you down and raping you 'til lunchtime." "Um." Her smile, I noted, was showing fangs. After last night, my aching body couldn't take another marathon sex session, but she was pinning my wrists above my head and there was nowhere to flee. "...I guess I'll do my best, then." "Take a deep breath." "Wait, I still don't really know how -- " I didn't get a chance to finish as Rosie swung her hips forward and my world went moist. I vaguely remembered from some Complete Idiot's Guide to Foreplay that cunnilingus was meant to involve a lot of teasing and taunting, kissing and licking around the pussy itself, playing with the labia, tantalizing the clit with occasional sucks. There mustn't be many Complete Idiots in hell, because Rosie wasn't here for foreplay. She laughed and pushed her soaking pussy down against my face. Her muscular ass and thighs were just soft enough to smother me completely. I tried desperately to suck in air through my nose but there was nothing but her scent, all pheromones and fire. Her pungent pussy juices were all over my lips and nose, tingling my skin like acid even as my mouth started to salivate and my lungs begged for air. She was the world, and I was getting crushed like Atlas. Only when I was panicking and truly, futilely straining against her did she rolled her hips back. I took gasping breaths, and gasped harder as her juice spattered into my mouth. Rosie's prehensile tail unwound from my leg with shivering speed and wrapped around my neck like a noose. "If you want to avoid developing an asphyxiation fetish then I'd better feel your tongue on my pussy," Rosie hissed. Her eyes were wild, her teeth bared. Holy shit. "I'll try," I panted, "but -- " Her pussy cut me off again. Her tail flexed against my throat, gentle but insistent. I had no idea what to do. I stuck my tongue up, feeling it push against and then between the slick lips of her pussy. That was another shock right there, the full impact of her taste hitting me. The joke is that pussy tastes like fish, but that's human pussy we're talking about, and I think Hell is more fire than water. Rosie tasted like... damn it, Rosie tasted like nothing in the world but Rosie. Her juices made me think of exotic spices, peaches in summer, and the heat at the edge of a candle's flame. It kicked more than a mule on tequila, too; my whole throat tingled, my lips went numb and every sensation from my tongue was magnified a dozen times over. Damn it, she tasted fucking amazing. I moaned in shock and pleasure, and the vibrations must have done something to her pussy because she moaned above me too. As always, that was a hell of an aphrodisiac. I started wiggling my tongue around in a vague imitation of half-remembered pornos. Rosie helped. Not content to sit still, she was grinding against my face with wanton desire. I wiggled my tongue some more, trying to find where the clit was supposed to be. Trace the alphabet with your tongue, right? It seemed to be working, judging from how Rosie trembled above me. I started wriggling again. Before the need for oxygen became too great she leaned back, exposing my nose to fresh (if incredibly sex-scented) air. "No!" she said, her tail tightening momentarily around my throat. "Don't take your fucking tongue out, master." I tried to keep it stuck out and licked as I panted, feeling almost as silly as I did horny. Then her belly rolled forward toward me and I was again being waterboarded by her infernally-hot pussy. She'd promised to give me lessons in cunnilingus at some point, but this wasn't that. This wasn't anything but sheer desire, a lust that wasn't normal or even human. I'd occasionally wondered just how much of Rosie's sex drive was involuntary, and how much was a rational, conscious strategy to seduce me. If last night hadn't been enough of a hint, this was my answer. I also knew my efforts were having some effect. She rubbed her whole groin against my jaw and nose while grunting orders in half-delirious pleasure. "Tongue, in and out!" I complied for as long as that breath lasted. By the end my whole skull, from teeth to tonsils, was tingling from her juices. "Now suck my clit!" That was after another oxygen break, a long one, and I think her juices were getting into my bloodstream because I was too horny to think. My hips bucked on their own, my sore cock straining desperately against the air. Only her demonic strength and vice-like thighs held me in place. "Thirty seconds!" she told me as I gasped up at her. Then she was back on me again and I was going at it, licking and sucking mindlessly as lust consumed us both. She let go of my hands to stifle her moaning with a fist; I reached up and took hold of her swinging breasts like they were the breath I desperately needed. She came as the alarm sounded. It was Poison's 'Fallen Angel' this time, telling me to "win big" as my demon's juices squirted into my mouth, my nose, even my eyes. Her fucking tits came too, pearls of glistening demon-milk dribbling from diamond-hard nipples. She didn't even have to touch me -- her moans, her tits, her quivering chemical cascade brought me over the edge. Even after last night's loads, even untouched by either of us, my dick spurted furiously into the air. My vision would have gone gray even if her tail hadn't been tight around my throat. She fell back off me in shivering pleasure before I lost consciousness completely. It only took us another thirty seconds of panting recuperation before I found the alarm clock and switched it off. "Just a step from the edge of a fall -- " Bret Michaels sang. "I think we're a few steps past that," Rosie sighed, leaning back on her hands. "I think we fell off the cliff and hit the bottom. Except, you know, without the splatter." "Mm." She gave a contented sigh and wiped some drool from her red-flushed cheek. "I don't know. You look pretty splattered." Still breathing hard, I started choking back a laugh. "Holy shit, Rosie, you drowned me. I didn't realize how fucking wet you get until it's happening right in my face." "How wet I get from fucking you, master. That wasn't bad at all for your first time eating pussy." "And the fact that you're a sinfully-overstimulated sex demon had nothing to do with it?" "Maybe," she allowed. "But there's a way to test that. Encore!" "Wait," I said. "The alarm went off. I need to get ready for work." "Well, technically I didn't come until the alarm, and by the literal phrasing of the bet..." "You came with the alarm!" I said. "That counts as my win, surely." "Hmm. That was a pretty good orgasm." Rosie conceded, wriggling back a little so that she was sitting atop my chest. That sight was enough to make my still-sore, just-spent cock perk up again. "I suggest a compromise." "A good compromise leaves everyone unhappy." "I promise you'll be very, very happy," she said. "We both try and make each other come again, no holding back, no holds barred. Once we've each come again, I'll let you get ready for work." "How are you going to help me with that? Fill my uniform pockets with condoms?" "Why would I do that? Condoms are way less fun than bareback," she said with a smile. Then she slid her pussy back towards my face. "Now, come on, get back in there. I'll try and turn down the waterworks this time." "You know I really don't know what I'm doing, right?" "Here," she said, reaching over and grabbing the pentacle amulet out of my bedside table. With it around my soaked neck, she sent: {I'll give you pointers. Or are you bored with my sloppy, needy pussy already?} It was hard to argue with talk like that. {Yesss. That's right, Eric, play with the lips. Now lick it, lick my whole cunt. It's okay to call it a cunt, by the way. Also slot, slit, even quim if you're feeling British...} Rosie didn't grind against my face this time, so I could breathe her maddening musk through my nose while I worked. She shifted from kneeling above me to a kind of crossed-legged position, with my head resting on her feet and tilted forward against her pussy. The reason for the position change, and the need for the amulet to communicate, quickly became obvious. Shaking out her neck and wings in a sinuous stretch, Rosie leaned back and began to bend. I saw her abs ripple as she tilted back over my body. Her scarlet hair brushed over my stomach and groin, and I briefly worried about her horns, but she clearly had no intention of doing the impaling. Stretched backward in an impressive arch, she kept her pussy against my mouth as her lips found my hardening cock. {You see, this is why all women should do yoga.} She blew me in a kind of inverted 69, twisted around to suck me down greedily even as I lapped at her folds. Maybe she was holding back on the squirting this time, but neither of us were in danger of running out of fluids. A couple of times, like when she deep-throated me until her horns pressed against my belly, I stopped licking her out. She corrected me swiftly. And too swiftly, it seemed, we both approached the point of no return. Rosie actually reached that point twice, despite the 'orgasm each' agreement. A magnanimous master, I decided to allow it. She took me deep in her throat and started humming as I came, the vibrations travelling through my well-used cock and coaxing every last drop of cum out of my balls. When I stopped licking and just gurgled helplessly she let me fall back. It took at least another five minutes before I was in any shape to do anything. Looking at my cum-slicked belly and utterly waterlogged head and shoulders in the mirror, I couldn't help but giggle. I mean, what was I going to do, whine? This was way better than work, or Nirvana. Lying there embracing her afterwards, I stroked her hair while she drew patterns in the cum spilt across my belly. Our whole bodies felt aligned in some cosmic way. "You are amazing, Rosie," I said, "but you have made me quite late. So, will the lion behave itself today?" "It'll try. And if they call you tardy," she said with a wicked smile, "offer to lick them out -- you seem pretty speedy when it comes to that." I tickled the crook of her neck a little, making her squirm against me. "My boss is a 200-pound Polynesian man." "Pit take it. Offer to lick out any dissatisfied customers, then. Just bring your amulet -- I'll get bored cooped up here without you, and you wouldn't want that, would you?" *** The one work-friendly part of my morning was unexpected. It turns out that a succubus' pussy juices are a hell of an energy drink, better than Red Bull, except I got a boner instead of wings. I was bouncing off the McDonald's walls for a couple of hours, and my increased energy almost made up for my aches, pains, and Rosie's distraction. Between 'conversing' with my succubus, dodging Michael's attention, and actually serving customers, I had to worry about the other girls on shift. 19-year-old men generally don't have an off-switch for their libido even on the best of days. Rosie had cranked that up to an unknown extent, and I'd spent the morning gulping down the aphrodisiacal equivalent of rocket fuel. The new girl, Cherish, wasn't too much of a problem. She wasn't my type, which was to say chubby and dumb and most definitely underage. Samantha, though -- she was cute as a button, and I wanted to press it as hard as I could. Five foot nothing, warm brown eyes and a cherubic face, with a toothy smile that never felt forced no matter how many customers she had to greet. Only just 18, she still had a year of high school left. A few times during the shift I caught her looking at me. She always broke eye contact first, but I was quick to turn away too. In the quiet period after lunch, I was restocking the freezer and could talk to Rosie without too much fear of being diagnosed with schizophrenia. {So, what are we doing tonight?} "Tonight? Fuck, I don't know. Don't you have some elaborate sex-marathon in store for me?" {It's more fun if you don't know quite when it's coming. I want to do something interesting. I want to see the world!} "You want to have sex in some embarrassingly public place." {I can have my cake and eat it too, right?} I sighed. "How about the movies, just to start with? It's a pretty common 'date' kind of activity, it gives us something vaguely resembling a tiny bit of privacy, and it'd be good practice for actual social exposure. {Like going out to a bar Saturday night?} I rubbed my forehead, then groaned at my stupidity as I spread tomato juice over it. Helpful hint: don't handle tomato slices and then put your hands near your eyes. "Damn it, woman, you're going to kill me. You're a slave driver." "Yeah, yeah, don't shoot the messenger," Samantha said from the freezer door. I jumped hard enough to almost slip over on the frosty floor; she waited until she was sure I wasn't going to fall before giggling. "Actually I bring good news: Michael wants to train some new guy, so he's sending you home an hour early. You're done in ten." "Seriously?" "I know, it's barbaric. I'm a delicate woman, I need to be coddled, I should be given the early finish." {You'd coddle her,} Rosie sent. {I'd coddle her. I wonder what her nipples look like; they've got to be perking up in this cold.} "You're not the one with tomato juice on their forehead, I think you're doing okay," I said. "Here," Samantha said, grabbing a paper towel from the sink behind her. "Hold still, you klutz." She had to reach up quite a bit to get my forehead. Her shirt stretched as her arm raised, and even if I hadn't been appraising her bust, Rosie was calling attention to it anyway. It was a significant effort of will not to look down and check my waistline for decorum. Malcubus Ch. 06: Service with a Smile "There, much better," she said, smiling and stepping back. "You okay, Eric? You look spaced." "Mm? Fine, Sammie. It's just been a long shift." "Oh, boo hoo. You were Captain Caffeine this morning. I wanted some of what you were having." {And I would be delighted to supply it; Eric, you must introduce us.} "I came up, then I came down," I said, trying to prevent anything incredibly stupid escaping my lips. "I'm down now. I'll finish up in here and then mop the floor before I go, okay?" "Thanks. I'd better get back to drinks, before Michael smites me." {Ha. She's educated, too.} I examined the salad shelves carefully rather than watch Sammie's cute butt bounce back towards the counter. Really, I did. "Fuck, Rosie. I'm going to get fired. I'm going to get diseases." {Not from Samantha you won't. That girl's pretty inexperienced, master, no matter how confident she seems. That's just from being a beautiful girl; she wouldn't be so nice to everyone unless she was still fairly innocent.} The amulet burned hot against my skin. {It would be so much fun to take away that innocence, wouldn't it?} Put like that, I felt bad... and very, very tempted. *** CASSANDRA The last kilometre on the exercise bike was hell on Cassie, and not just because it was her sixth. That was nothing; she'd swum that sort of distance back at the start of high school, when she'd still held dreams of being some sort of star athlete. No, she was stressed out for an entirely different reason, and she had a grimace on her face as she pounded out the last few calories at a frantic pace. The bike seat was rubbing against her pussy. She'd never noticed it before, and it was the same machine as always, but something had to be different, right? It didn't hurt, she wasn't sore, but she was definitely -- distracted. Every stroke of her legs brushed her thighs against the edge of the seat, and every shift in her weight rubbed her crotch back and forward ever so slightly. How had she never noticed this before? A few times, she'd caught herself shifting forwards and backwards in a rhythm, like she was trying to scratch an itch. A itch; yeah, right. By the time the last klick was done she was covered in sweat, and her nipples were hard as diamonds underneath her sports bra. Getting off the bike was actually unpleasant, despite her burning thighs. She'd gotten used to the... alright, just be honest, the stimulation. Cassandra Cooper had spent the last twenty-five minutes almost-masturbating with an exercise machine in the middle of the gym, and she was feeling frustrated enough to make use of the boxing bags. God, what was wrong with her today? Compared to the other cheerleaders, she'd practically come out of high school a blushing virgin. Sex was rarely on her mind. Sure, she got horny as much as any girl, she orgasmed a few times a month thanks to that stupid gag-gift vibrator, but there must have been something in the water at work yesterday. She'd masturbated furiously just this morning, and that hadn't stopped her from feeling wired all day. Cassie realized that she'd been 'towelling off' her chest for almost a minute, yanked her head out of the clouds, and headed for the change rooms. That route took her past the front desk, where Jack -- personal trainer Jack, surfer douche Jack, narcissistic musclehead Jack -- winked at her. She looked away and blushed, but she could almost feel his gaze on her ass as she walked past. Well, you do have a great ass, she thought to herself. Why wouldn't he look? She put a little bit more wiggle in her walk, just for Jack, and giggled as she rounded the corner. A couple of middle-aged women were chatting as they exited the change rooms, and Cassie stepped aside to let them pass. The nearest one was a very fit black woman wearing an expensive sports bra, and it had better be high quality because her rack was huge. Cassie didn't often look at girls, but with that much cleavage on display she kind of had to, right? She actually turned to watch the women heading off to the weights section, and caught a strange look from the black woman's friend. Right. Getting changed. She hesitated for a few moments in front of her locker. Normally she showered at the gym, but somehow that just didn't appeal today. Embarrassing as it was -- god, she hoped she'd towelled off the bike seat well enough -- she absolutely needed to masturbate ASAP, and she couldn't do that in the gym showers. Although... maybe it wouldn't be so bad? It was just women in the showers, after all, and if some lady in the stall next to her happened to overhear -- No, what was she thinking? Cassie grabbed some deodorant and doused herself. She had to get home, as fast as the speed limit allowed, so her car would just have to smell of sweat during the drive. Besides, Eric would be home this evening. Her older brother had been acting weird lately, ducking in and out of the house at all sorts of hours and keeping his room locked, so it'd be good to chat to him. Make sure he was behaving himself while Dad was away. Although, really: when did Eric get himself into any trouble? He was pretty great like that, really. Trustworthy. That was rare and valuable, in a man. Knowing it made her look like an airhead, Cassie hummed pop songs to herself as she packed up and thought about trying to hang out with her brother more often. And how hard she was about to frig herself in twenty minutes. *** The redhead was the most beautiful woman Moira had ever seen. It was strange, though, for her to be here. This was where her primary school had held summer camps, and it certainly wasn't appropriate for a girl to be naked next to the campfire circle. She didn't even attend their school; Moira would definitely remember someone like that. Although she was definitely present and three-dimensional, as real as Eric was beside her, there was a distant quality to her image. A mirage? "A dream," Eric said, "but you really, really need to pay attention." "Sorry," she said reflexively, then corrected herself. "Wait, no I'm not. We agreed we wouldn't talk to each other for a while, Eric. That it'd be easier that way." "Damn it, you've been bloody stalking me!" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just look at Rosie, please, Moira?" "The naked girl? She's going to get into trouble," Moira said. 'Rosie' turned to look at them, her eyes empty. Sand blew through the trees behind her. "Her real name's Rosmerta -- well, actually her name is some polysyllabic Enochian thing, but that's not important. She's not really from the country, and she's not just..." "She's falling apart," Moira noted. Rosmerta's red hair trailed away into puffs of desert sand at the tips, and the trees behind her were collapsing into clouds. "I'm trying, it's hard to hold the image, I'm not -- this is real, Moira! Listen to me!" He might have wanted to grab her shoulders then, but he couldn't bring himself to do more than gently touch her arm. "I'm really scared, Moira. I can't get out of here on my own." She moved her arm out of his reach, but her tone was reassuring. "We'll go together then. The trees are blowing away, it'll be easy to get back to the tents..." "No, that's the dream, I'm talking about real life." "Right. It's hard to remember which is..." The ground slipped under her feet, and for a moment Moira could see through the earth, to a pink sky and the warm orange of glowing coals. "Whoah, that's weird. And Rosmerta's vanished, by the way." The beautiful woman had been snatched up by the wind and scattered to the evening air. "That doesn't matter, so long as you believe me when I tell you -- oh, damn it." Eric was visibly sweaty, almost red with heat, which was strange considering the strong winds blowing through the campsite. "Look Moira, you broke up with me for good reasons, but you can still trust me, right? We've always trusted each other. I mean, back in eighth grade I showed you my poetry.." "Of course I trust you, Eric," she said, and reached out for his arm before drawing her hand back. "You were saying that this 'Rosie' -- Rosmerta -- isn't..." "She's not... she's not my friend, or my girlfriend." Moira cracked a grin. "Well, duh. You lucked out getting me as your girlfriend, let alone someone twice as hot." Eric gave her a strange look. "You've had all these suspicions, though. You've been basically stalking her, right? Or stalking me. I'm telling you the truth about her, but you have to promise not to freak out." Moira folded her arms. Sand was blowing in hard from the edge of the clearing now, stinging the back of her neck. "Eric, I don't even know this sand-lady -- " "She's a demon. Rosie's a demon." Moira just looked at him with raised eyebrows. Eric grimaced and wiped sweat of his eyes, pursing his lips in concentration. For a moment the wind changed direction, and some of the sand swirling around them took the form of the redhead girl's face, with horns curling up from her hair. The mirage held for less than a second before collapsing. "A succubus," Eric continued. "She didn't move in from the country, I summoned her. I summoned a demon." Moira blinked, but not at Eric. The clouds behind him were churning and boiling, tinging bright pink, and the clearing around them was taking on a rosy glow. The sand hitting them was less harsh now, and it seemed warm. "...Sorry, is this one of your D&D things? I'm really not trying to be a dick, but this is the first time we've talked in forever and you're being really confusing -- " "Demons are real, Moira!" Eric said, and there was a strain in his voice that she hadn't heard since his parents split. "Demons are real. Magic is real. Hell is real!" "Well, my dad would be happy you've stopped reading Richard Dawkins, but... you know I don't believe in that stuff, Eric. I got dragged to church for most of my life, and I never once thought demons were out to get me." Eric had noticed the pink sands blowing in, too, and he frowned. "No, demons are definitely real. Right now a demon of Lust is pretty close to you -- probably Rosie, actually." "What?" "In the real world, where you're asleep. It's influencing the dream, influencing Hell. Don't you feel the Lust?" "Eric, you're making me really uncomfortable, and I don't really want to talk about... whoah." Moira blinked again. The sand under Eric's feet had shifted a little, kicked up by the wind and blown into warm pink shadows. The shadows danced like women, curving and swaying seductively around the pair of dreamers. Where the grains had lifted, she could see burning coals far below. "Don't burn yourself." "Don't burn..." Eric looked down, looked back up at her, and laughed. "Damn it, Moira," he finally said, "where the hell do you think I am?" Moira was going to answer, but a strong gust of pink wind threw warm sand into her mouth. It tasted like cotton candy dissolving on her tongue, and she had just enough time to see Eric's hair blow away into sand before she started to orgasm. * Moira panted up at the ceiling, hurled back to wakefulness in an instant. The same dream, the exact same dream again, down to every word spoken, apart from the early wake-up call. Just a dream, though, nothing to worry about... the climax had been very real, though. She blushed as she took her hand out of her pyjama pants. Eric would just love to know that she'd had a wet dream about him, wouldn't he? She snuck down the dark hallway towards the bathroom, feeling her way along the wall with her clean hand. Washing her face, she couldn't keep the thoughts back any longer. They'd talked about prophets in church, and she was pretty sure this wasn't that. This wasn't God speaking to her -- it was Eric, Eric freaking Cooper, hardly an angel from on high. As far as warnings of the future went, this one was really ambiguous. And Joseph didn't keep getting the same dream over and over, harping on about sand and damnation. One quick 'your virgin wife is pregnant' and he had believed; it had been almost a week since Moira had first had the dream, and she was a long way from believing in any of this. But every midnight orgasm was taking her closer. +++++Closing Notes+++++ Another short chapter. No niche fetishes this time, either -- just (finally) cunnilingus. Yum! As always, thanks for reading. The next chapter will hopefully be up within the week. Demons don't really need to sleep, and it's time we examined how Rosie occupies herself while Eric is dead to the world. Oh, also: a couple of people were wondering exactly how the 'one way' telepathy works, and I don't think I really elaborated enough. Rosmerta can 'tap into' Eric's senses (sight, hearing, even touch) when he's wearing the amulet, but she can't read his mind directly... at least, that's the official story. Yes, that does make her a bit of a voyeur. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++