Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Incubus Rising (Part 2) - An Original Short

Incubus Rising (Part 2)
by Terri Garey©


(Incubus Rising is an original work of erotic fiction by Terri Garey, written for my entertainment, and yours. An incubus, according to legend, is a male spirit who comes to women in their dreams, inciting them to all sorts of lascivious behavior, both awake and asleep. Good thing we no longer live in the age of the Inquisition, where you could be burned at the stake for having erotic dreams, isn't it? This is a snippet from the story of Ash, a demon of desire, and so we begin...)


This one was dark, as dark as her dreams. Lashes black as soot lay against delicate cheekbones, hair a spill of ebony against the creamy whiteness of linen sheets. Should they open, her eyes would likely rival the night with their mystery and depth. At least, I would wish them so.

I leaned in and brushed her lips with mine. My tongue slipped within to sample the softness of her own, savoring the taste of loneliness, of tears - the emotions that had drawn me to her from the darkness.

She had not stirred with my kisses, but that would soon change. I dipped into her thoughts as easily as her lips, and let the essence of her dreams overtake us both.

Her breasts were beneath my hands, warm mounds topped with ripe raspberries, though they needed no such sweetness. Her belly was flat and taut, tapering to a veed valley of black curls, the pale folds of her womanhood peeping coyly from the brambles of desire. Round was her bottom and curved were her hips, smooth skin smelling of pampering and flowers.

I was lost to her, and lost in the newness of my lust. It would wane, as it always did, but for now it was all.

She stirred beneath my hands, arching against my hardness. A gasp escaped her, but that was all the quarter I would give, capturing the next within my mouth as I settled myself between her thighs, sighing with satisfaction as she spread them for me. I drove myself home, unwilling to prolong the moment, and it was then I realized -as always - that I was not the conqueror, but the conquered.

She kissed me back, a willing participant in our pleasure. I drank deep of her softness, letting her tongue war with mine as I possessed her femininity, deeply and fully. I held myself still within her, letting her lead the way, feeling the ripples that moved within her warm depths. Her nipples were hard, rising to my lips. She welcomed me even deeper into her warmth, whimpering her need as she tossed her head against the pillow. Her arms came around me, her hands kneading my shoulders, her palms soft against my skin.

I let her dream pull me even deeper into our mutual yearnings, beginning the thrusting that would give her what she needed. Her legs came hard around me, trapping me in place as I drove home again and again, reveling in her unrestrained heat. Beneath me, she writhed and gasped her pleasure, dampening my shaft with the dewy offerings of her body.

While I... I burned, stiff with a need that could never be eased.

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