An Immaterial Guest

It was strange to Drak, how he perceived things differently now. The trembling, rippling eddies and whorls of power that flowed through this world were brightly limned before his senses, glowing in brilliant and subdued colors. Before he had come here, he hadn't..... understood colors the same way. As he drifted, he came across people, their minds a pulsing point of light to him, shaded with the mixes and whirls of their emotions and thoughts. Each unique, yet similar in their general form.

If they could see him, as he saw them, they would see a drifting green mist, gathered around a vague center, the core mists seeming to pulse with a.. mental heartbeat. To physical senses, in his "natural" form, he was immaterial and invisible, sometimes felt as one might expect to feel a ghost. The "shudders" or the hair on the back of someone's neck standing up as Drak's immaterial form slid around their mind, sampling the flavor of them. When he had first arrived in this world, from his home dimension, he had slain the first few minds he came across, accidentally, drinking in their energies until their physical bodies collapsed in brain-dead comas. He had learned much, in his centuries amongst "The Physicals" as he thought of them. He had learned to take on a physical form for a time, to sample their senses, their experiences, their.... rigid time and space. It was... stimulating.

His people were from a realm without matter, or strict concepts of time. They existed, they were, they were not. A freak accident or anomaly had drawn him to this world, so different from his own.

They didn't have words for "addiction" in his universe.

Of course, if they had to deal with the sweet release of an orgasm, or the mind blanking paroxysm of bliss physical senses can ignite, they would have.

Over the centuries, he had learned to relish physical pleasures and pains, wallowing in hedonism and decadence, his pseudo-bodies pliant and powerful, capable of marvelous feats. Today, in fact, was time for him to pay a visit to one of his lucky benefactors. These humans were his current circle of... confidants that he satiated his desires with. They were chosen for having particularly intense or "flavorful" minds, as well as interests in the things he could do to a human body.

None of them knew he fed upon them in so many ways.

Lucinda certainly didn't. She was one of his favorites.

He drifted into the small, neatly furnished apartment. He could sense her in the bathroom, and he smiles, knowing she was so confused by his miraculous appearances. A whirlwind begins in the center of the room, silent, barely stirring the air in the room somehow. In moments, a tall, well built man, with mocha skin and tousled black hair is standing in her room. A charcoal gray suit, impeccably cut, clings to him, and he steps forward, headed towards the bathroom door. Every movement was measured, precise. Almost inhumanly graceful, and dripping with a masculine sensuality. Wrapping his knuckles against the door, his warm, throaty baritone calls out to her, as his true essence, the ephemeral tendrils of his mind, reach out, caressing her own thoughts.

"Lucinda. It's Drak. I told you, you never know when I'll arrive."

Already, he exerted his subtle pressures upon her mind. Feeding the hungers he encouraged, smoothing away her anxiety and pains, leaving her with a salved mind receptive to affection and intimacy. Of course, she didn't struggle too much. She was a 19 year old college drop-out, getting by waiting tables and waiting for her life to start somehow. Short and fit, she was 5'4, 120lbs, with just enough fat to soften her into feminine curves. She was also a loner, preferring to read histories and poetry, and to run, than to going out with friends or even discussing those things she knows with others. No, she sought only knowledge, most days.

But then there were the days HE visited.

Days lost in gasps and ecstasy.

Days, hazy and half remembered.

As she leaned against her sink, washing the makeup from her face after work, still stinking of the greasy kitchen, her shoulder length brown hair pulled back cutely in a tail, she freezes at the tapping. Then, her legs go just a little wobbly at the sound of his voice. She didn't know how he did it, but she would never complain.

Never.

Unconsciously, she welcomed him into her mind, following his manipulations willingly. Feeling her body responding the the blossoming need in her belly, the fire beginning to rage in her veins. Her heart quickening in her chest, as she manages in an embarrassingly husky, clearly aroused voice. "Drak? I... You can open the door. I'm decent." Giggling, since it's not like he hadn't seen her naked anyway, she squeezes her thighs together, trying to ward off the building warmth there, the wetness welling up slowly from within her.

The door opens slowly, and Drak slips in, the door shutting softly behind him. Smiling at her, taking in her physical beauty, savoring the bouquet of her desire and the burning, infusing intensity of her mind, he moves close behind her, his body towering almost a foot over her. Pressing close, he slides his large, powerful hands down her arms, drawing them from her face.

"Come. You'll have time to clean yourself later."

With that, she's pinned to the sink firmly, but not painfully. One hand grasps the back of her head, tugging her head back by her hair and baring her throat to him. The other hand cups her firm, perfect B-cup, feeling the large pebble of her nipple straining against her clothes already. Rocking his hips forward slowly, he lets her feel the thickness of it, that singular tool of penetration. Kissing her throat softly, nibbling at it, he begins to massage her breast harder, his hand shifting after a moment to slip under her shirt. Slipping the bra aside, he kneads it with a powerful, possessive hand, thumb and index finger pinching her nipple playfully, just as his teeth find her throat for a nibble. Tendrils of thought, of desire, drift through her thoughts, stimulating her already mounting desires. Stirring her body to the giddy heights of desire that only he could arouse within her.

Her head tips aside eagerly for his mouth, offering her throat to him as she feels her panties soak, her slick shaved womanhood gushing as she feels him behind her. Her breasts feel swollen, throbbing, aching to be touched as he begins to maul them. Groaning into the air as his callous fingers begin to tease her nipples, those burning points of sensation practically crying out for him. Grinding herself back against him, she moans, mewling softly as her as rocks against his body slowly. Her soft contralto is dragged from her lips in a ragged gasp as his teeth dig into her flesh. "Oh... Yes... more... Clean.. Later.." One hand reaches back, grabbing his hip eagerly, the other hand stroking his head lovingly as he leans in to kiss and bite her. His hand slides down from her breast, slipping down her body, stroking the soft, tanned flesh of her belly. Fingertips firm, strong, burning hot against her flesh as he explores her, soon they dip down to unbutton her jeans, slipping them down her thighs. Hips pressing forward, grinding himself against her now bared bottom, his fingers ease between her thighs, stroking her lips slowly through the slick satin of her panties. Her lust, the physical pleasure of his touch, of her need, flooded his mind like a drug, intoxicating him, enhancing the physical delight in his pseudo-body. Hips quickening their pace as she grinds back against him, his mouth works its way up her throat to her ear, nibbling, murmuring soft promises of ecstasy like no other, promises she knew he could keep.

Nodding, she trembles against him, knowing his hand can feel her heat, the gushing juices of her need for him. She parts her legs as best she can for him helping her slide her panties down around her knees, as he stands up a little behind her to free the thickness of his cock. Swollen and throbbing, 8" long, thicker than his thumb, the plum colored tip seems to swell a bit more as he presses it to the weeping lips of her womanhood. Shaking, quivering, she wriggles back against him as she feels his cock, reaching up to brace herself against the sink in preparation.

With a steady, smooth thrust, he drives himself forward, sheathing his cock in her womanhood. She gripped the porcelain hard and cried out in bliss at the sudden penetration, the gush of her juices running down his cock, dripping from his testicles as they swing from his pumping hips.

Powerful, gripping fingers dig into the soft flesh of her breast, kneading it roughly, bruisingly. His mouth finds her throat, kissing softly, nibbling at it before hungrily making his way to her mouth. Tugging her hair to the side, kissing her deeply, his hips grind against hers, working his length into her. With each rolling thrust, it felt as though he swelled larger, grew longer.

Lucinda knew that feeling. She rose up on the balls of her feet, squealing as an orgasm rips through her. Her tight walls convulsed around his cock, milking it, coaxing it enticingly to orgasm as she shudders on the sink. Panting, she grunts as he begins to thrust faster, his manhood now pressed into her cervix. Penetrating her like no other. The tip of him nestled into the painful barrier within her, filling her with a burning bliss.

Drinking in the ecstasy flooding through her mind like it was a fine wine, her orgasm danced across the palette of his mind brilliantly. Driving himself forward with the slow, somewhat erratic rhythm that he'd found Lucinda to responded well to. Feeding her back his hunger as her pleasure begins to well up again within her, he pinches her nipple hard, pulling it, just as he slams his hips forward and presses the tip of himself past her cervix.

That was always too much. Crying out in agony, her body convulsing violently, almost a seizure, as a bolt of pain shoots through every nerve in her body, followed by a mind-blanking pleasure. The orgasm lasts for minutes, wave after wave rippling through her body as his cock throbbed within her. So deep, pulsing, almost massaging her from within.

These orgasms were why she was his favorite. He closes his eyes, shutting out his physical senses as he drinks in her emotions, the sensations of a bliss too powerful for a conscious human mind.

Just as the orgasm began to subside, he shifts and presses himself further, releasing himself into her body. The first slap of his seed inside her belly caused her back to arch anew, another ripple of ecstasy coursing through her as he fills her womb.

Holding himself within her, milking the last shreds of orgasmic pleasure from her unconscious, twitching form he drank it all in. Slipping free of her, he scoops her up and carries her to her bed, laying her upon her bed. Disappearing into dust once more, he drifts away, to find another of his companions to feast upon this night.