Victoria's Demon Lover

Text
copyright © 2012 Alia Bess

All Rights Reserved

Cover design by
Innsmouth Studios

Photo: Dundanim/Shutterstock.com

     The wind whipped the sycamore
outside her window into a frenzy of wicked lashes against her window.  The rain
came soon after, accompanied by smashes of thunder that rattled the panes.  The
lights went out.

     She knew this storm raged over
her little lake house and no one else’s.  In the morning the neighbors would
remark that they heard a storm in the night, and that it must have been a
distant one, for they got no rain.  Victoria groped her way to the window.  The
limp curtains parted for her.  The streetlights flickered and one by one winked
out.  Victoria let the lace drop back into place again, then turned to look
over her shoulder at the silvery glow that wisped in a glittering trail around
her bedposts.

     She made for the soft bedding
and the warm blankets.  She leapt up and into it, rolled herself in the covers
and pulled the long pillows over her head.

     And then he was there.  The
wispy strands of light in her bedroom swirled until they became a solid pillar,
then the pillar swirled until it formed a body, then the body became him.

     She peeked out from her cocoon
of blankets.  She felt afraid, but not really.  He had come before, she knew
what to expect.  Each time he had surprised her with a new feeling, a new
experience, a different body.  The fear intensified all sensation for that
brief moment, then dissipated as she learned.  She needed that fear to make it
good.  He knew it.

     This time he appeared as a
man, however.  Unusual.  She lowered the blankets, puzzled.  She had hoped for
something remarkable, dramatic.  Perhaps her favorite form that he took on special
occasions like her birthday, or Valentine’s day.  She liked it when he appeared
as a great red demon, towering over her with a well-muscled body and thick
curved ram’s horns on either side of his head.  She especially liked the
prehensile tail of that body.  There was double pleasure in that tail.  She
remembered taking his huge cock in her mouth and feeling that tail snake around
to enter her, stroking with the same rhythms she was using on his cock.  She
squirmed, remembering.

     But he was not taking that
form tonight.

     He appeared as a human being. 
The body he chose was handsome, with a well-muscled shoulders and hard cut
abdomen.  She raised an eyebrow as she looked over this new form for tonight’s
pleasures.  His cock always stood at the ready.  He saw her looking at it and
enlarged it some more, making it stand even more erect.  His hair was short and
his beard was stubble over his cheeks and jaw.  The face he had chosen was not
classically beautiful like a Grecian statue but actually looked like a real
man.  The nose was strong and aquiline, the mouth wide and generous and his jaw
square and strong.  She liked this face and wondered who it had once belonged
to. He blinked yellow eyes at her, though.  He could not disguise his eyes. 
The demon-yellow would glow no matter what form he chose for their meetings. 
And this body had a flaw.  Around his neck like a noose, was a thick scar,
lighter than the tanned skin that surrounded it.  She frowned a little,
puzzling at that.  The demon usually appeared to her in fantastic perfection.

     “Demon.” She greeted him.

     “Victoria.”  Sometimes he
disguised his voice, but tonight she recognized the deep baritone as the one he
used most often on the few occasions when he spoke to her.

     “This form is pleasing to me,”
she said unnecessarily, for they both knew that her body had responded with the
familiar dampness between her legs.  He nodded agreement.  Every part of her
body was known to him intimately.

     “I know what you like, and
what you do not,” he rumbled.  “Tonight I intend to please you, for I have a
favor to ask.”

     She pretended to pout.  “Yet
you know the red one is my favorite.”

     He shook his head.  “Not
tonight.  I will please you with this one and you will not be disappointed.”

     She unrolled the blankets, all
fear now gone, replaced with the anticipation of a few moments of pleasure.  A
human form was nice, but not titillating like some of the more bizarre bodies
he had used.  She remembered the Cthulhu-like monster with many waving
tentacles whose tips were in an astonishing variety of shapes and sizes.  That
body had pleasured her to the point where she could no longer gasp for air and
had lost consciousness after an orgasm that had lasted minutes.  Intense, but
not for every-day sex.  Special occasions only.

     She beckoned to him.  “Then
come,” she smiled slyly at him.

     He climbed into her bed and
tossed the blankets away.  She lay back on her pillows and opened her legs. 
Sometimes his visits were for his pleasure.  Sometimes for hers.  Sometimes for
both.  Tonight he had said it would be hers.  She took a deep breath and sighed
out her readiness.  She closed her eyes, waiting for that first sensation that
would color the experience and categorize it for her memories.  What would this
one be?  Slow and sensual?   Hard and fast?  Warm and soft or icy and sharp
with bitter spears of pleasure mixed in with stabs of pain?  She waited.

     She felt his hot breath
between her thighs and smiled. 
Oh yes
.  This will be wonderful.  She
opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.  Between her legs she felt the demon
position himself on her bed.  He nibbled her inner thigh with soft lips and
hard teeth, the short stubble of his beard was a very masculine presence on her
skin.  She moved her hips on the sheets, eager to feel his mouth on her clit. 
He put it there, warm and wet, nibbling around the edges of her slit, then touching
the tip of his tongue to the triangle peak.  She tensed and raised her hips to
his mouth, encouraging him to continue.

     He responded by clutching at
her hips and probing deeper, licking and flicking his tongue repeatedly until
her legs jerked with spasms of pleasure.  He held her knees down with his
elbows and squeezed her waist with strong hands.  She lifted her hips again and
moaned softly.  She felt his tongue grow long and slick.  She felt the end fork
into two thin tendrils that touched her with the tips so lightly and so fast
that she jerked her hips again at his face, and cried out for more.  Faster and
faster he touched her until she felt waves of liquid wet the sheets beneath her
trembling buttocks.

     She did not want him to stop,
but the light touches were maddening and her body cried out for something more
substantial.  She had begun to rock her hips in rhythm, trying to get closer to
feel his tongue harder against her slick clit.  He resisted, allowing only
light touches to her straining body until her gasps and groans became loud.

     “Ah, Demon,” she gasped, “Let
me come, or let me go!”

     She heard him take a great
breath in response.  His breathing had become ragged as he licked and nibbled
and she knew that he never could explore her silky folds without becoming as
hard as steel.  His own need for her was obvious.

     “Demon,” she gasped, “Your
tongue is sweet, but I need more substantial food.”

     His tongue disappeared and his
hot breath became a cool puff as he raised himself above her.  She looked down,
now, taking pleasure in the huge cock that roared erect between his thighs. 
The tip shone with the glistening bead of readiness that drooled from the
slit.  He bent his head to look as well, and used one hand to grasp the shaft. 
His thumb brushed the bead of clear liquid over the bulging head and his eyes
rolled back with the pleasure of his own touch.

     Victoria reached for him,
grabbed at his arm and raised her legs to cross his hips and pull him closer. 
He arched his back and slid his cock into her.  He pushed slowly, allowing her
soft folds to stretch with his entry, embracing his hardness with her soft
caress.  He pushed until he could go no further inside, his hips met hers with
a hard stop and she breathed in the nearness of his mouth and lips as he
nuzzled her ear and then her cheek.  His throat rumbled with his desire and she
felt his self-control in the trembling of his muscles.

     Inside her, slick and warm, he
rocked with his need until she clutched at his hard buttocks, pressing him into
her and begging for the motion that would finally release her from the aching
pleasure he had started with his tongue.

     He arched his shoulders and
drew out slowly.  She felt the sliding firmness of his cock on her body and
moved hers to maximize the contact with her clit as the thick head emerged and
touched her there.  She moaned as the head entered again, pulling along the
lips and folds as the shaft pushed into her, then out faster this time.  Again
he touched her clit with his cock before thrusting inside.  He had begun to
pant and she knew that at some point his own pleasure would rob him of all
thought and planning and art.  He would stop playing her like an instrument of
pleasure, and instead slake his lust upon her.  He would pleasure her until his
own called to him and then she must follow or be lost.

     But now she was so close to
her own explosion of desire that anything he did now would be a triumph.  As
she expected, his yellow eyes above her face took on that lost look that
signaled he was beyond her.  His muscles bunched with insistence and his
thrusts were no longer slow and gentle.  She saw the fire in his eyes that told
her she was now his.  She arched herself, ready for his pounding thrusts, her
thighs tightened and her hands clawed the sheets and mattress beneath her,
ready.

     He began to groan and his
breath was loud, blown between clenched teeth.  The stubbled jaws tightened. 
His body pounded her and his cock thickened and hardened with his impending
climax.  She closed her eyes to experience every wave of pleasure that was hers
with every sliding movement of his hips.  She heard the quickening gasp as he
took the final breath before he exploded within her.  He roared his pleasure
and inside she felt the thick hot gush that always burned her when he came. 
Her body knew that heat and responded with her own peak and scream of pleasure.

     He continued to rock her,
gouging out her insides with spurts from his cock, over and over while between
clenched teeth he groaned in some unknown language, and finished by whispering
her name over and over until he sagged against her body and pushed his face
into her pillow.

     But he was not her lover.  He
was a demon from Hell and could not love.  She waited, unmoving, for what
happened every single time he visited her.  She counted his breaths,
one…two…three…four and on the fifth he disappeared in a puff, leaving behind
only wet sheets and her sweating body.  She lay there trembling and staring at
the ceiling.  One leg twitched with the last tingle of her fading orgasm and
she sighed.

     He had forgotten to ask for
his favor.

     Victoria parked the car and
tried to walk without limping in her high heels to the elevator.  She smiled at
the attendant and gave him a wave.  He waved back.  They had exchanged waves
for nearly five years, but Victoria did not know his name.  She and the others
in the office would take up a collection for him every Christmas and someone
else would deliver it to the glass and steel cage that was his workspace.  She
waited at the elevator with other office drones, looking in her purse for her
lipstick.  The doors opened with the familiar ding and she and the others filed
in, looking anywhere but at each other.

     She shifted in her heels.  She
still ached from last nights’ stormy encounter with her demon.  Her insides
were sore and her inner thighs ached from squeezing his hips.  She dropped her
lipstick.  There was no way to bend down in the crowded elevator to pick it
up.  The man next to her knew it fell, for the silver capsule bounced off his
loafer.  He glanced down without moving his head.  Victoria could not even
slide her shoe over to kick the lipstick against the wall to retrieve later. 
She waited impatiently for the ding that signaled her floor.  She was the last
to get off, waiting for room to go down in her tight skirt and pick up the
expensive lipstick.

     When she touched it she felt a
thrill through her fingers as if the capsule held an electric charge.  She
frowned.  Soon the doors would close and the elevator would be called to
another floor.  She tucked the capsule of her lipstick in her purse and stood,
ready to put her foot out to stop the doors from closing.

     But they did close.  The man
who had been standing next to her had his finger jammed on the round glowing
button that closed the doors.  She felt the car shift up and then down again.