"I choose this life, to be one of the damned, to be a whore, a slut, a Bride for the Devil, or whatever. Now would you hurry up and Fuck Me?!" She demanded. He smiled as he moved his lips towards her.
She was gorgeous naked. Even though he had seen her before, the distractions had decreased her beauty, but now she was all there was. She was everything there was. She had the best ass he had ever seen on a white girl, and he grabbed it hard as he kissed her, his tongue running across hers, sparks wherever contact was made. He ran his hands over her hips, following the not too subtle curves all the way up to her back, where he unsnapped her bra with one hand.
He stroked her shoulderblades, his nails slightly digging in. He knew that she wanted rough later, but now she wanted gentle; she was still a bit scared. He then gave her jaw and her neck more attention, kissing and biting in variables, making her moan. He didn't enter her mind.
His left hand caressed her breasts, kneading them as he knew she liked. They were roughly a C cup, and she had the most gorgeous nipples he had ever seen; tiny, little buds, a dark brown, almost chocolate colour. They became tiny when she was aroused, and aroused she was now. He lowered his mouth, and sucked on her left nipple, tasting her body. She cried out, arching her back, driving her body closer, begging for more, as he ran his right hand against her other nipple, and his left between her legs. She was wet, so much more than wet. He ran his forefinger lightly over her clit, toying with it, moving it backwards and forwards. She came hard, and for the first time, he sipped her pleasure without restraint.
She gasped, her hips thrusting hard against his hand, forcing his finger painfully into her clit, but it made her orgasm more intense. She came harder than ever before, her body tense. She knew she needed this, needed to let go of her nerves for him, for the sex that would define her life.
She opened her eyes, staring at him. He let himself flood with desire, and she gasped; he had never used his full strength before, never even tested it on anyone.
She shivered from the sheer force of it. It was as though he had become fire, and the air shifted around him, vibrating at a higher pitch than before. She could hear a dim noise, a faint ringing in her ears, and as it vibrated through her being she felt herself flooding. It started on her skin, rubbing and caressing each folicle, each single goosebump. She breathed it in, down her throat, then down, down, ever down. She felt it slip ever lower, so slowly, the vibration becoming so intense as to be almost painful. It felt as though someone was fucking her from the inside, and she screamed as she overflowed, every wave sheer pleasure, every single breath ecstasy.
She watched as though tied to his spot, as she breathed in his need, his want. He saw her body change temperature, and felt her desire grow, in testament to his own. He held back, as her breathing changed, each breath going deeper, deeper. He felt it penetrate her, delving deeply, each thrust making her burn more. He saw her build up, then have the single most powerful orgasm he had ever seen.
As she recovered, he stripped himself of clothes. When she recovered, she saw him, erect and hard. Quivering with need for her. He needed to be inside her, and she knew it.
She crept up to him, on her hands and knees, her face still flushed, her breathing irregular. She looked him dead in the eyes, as she took him deeply in her mouth. His head rolled backwards; no-one, not even the succubus who made him, could have taken him so deeply, so quickly. And he was even bigger than he was when he was turned. All thought vanished when she took him as deeply again, even faster. Her eyes never left him, as she increased her speed, her head bobbing up and down, her tongue running along the underside of his cock, sometimes tickling the head of his cock, sometimes whirling around the base as she held it down her throat.
For her it was as though she was deepthroating her own orgasm; as his pleasure built up, so did hers, and when she took him down her throat she almost came. She took him again, and she tried not to show him her own pleasure; sometimes, it's best to keep things like that secret, she thought.
He felt it coming, and didn't want it to end so quickly. He drew back, and felt her release him. It was the last straw. He erupted, his come pouring out of his cock hard.
Her mouth was still open, and his come surged into her mouth, faster and harder than anyone had previously. She didn't normally like the taste of semen, but his tasted different. It was her concept of sex, perfectly defined in taste form.
She felt herself come from the sheer force of his taste in her mouth. It was small, nothing compared to the excesses she had experienced from him in the past. She spat it out, her mind flicked to the night where her and her friends had all had him. It was singularly the most erotic night of her whole life. She was beyond tired after, but she could remember everything that had happened. It was unreal, and she had really suspected him of drugging them. Until she had seen the page on the internet, and had found the word, incubus. Then she had known. She had wanted him, wanted more, wanted everything he could give her. Wanted the life, the sex, he could give her.
He tore at her panties, beneath the skirt she wore. It was a cheerleading skirt, or a netball skirt, so it was short, the lowest part just above her knees. Her panties were cotton, so it didn't take much for him to push them to one side, so he could slam straight into her, his cock straight to her pussy, his pubic hair hard up against her ass. She came explosively the second he entered; his cock was fire, pleasure incarnate. He wasn't human; it was the first time she truly understood.
He rammed into her, doggystyle. His cock left her body completely before he slammed into her again, her pussy vibrating, pulsing with each thrust.
She was alive, more alive than anyone he had fucked before; her energy was sweet, like bread to the hungry. He felt deprived, as though he had been going through a bare patch himself. He needed this; needed to come, to full her up, and make her his.
She felt his cock tense up within her, which was odd; most guys only tensed up exactly when they came, like, when they filled her mouth. She felt her own orgasm begin as his did; she had already worked out that her own condition was relative to his. His cock kept growing, and she felt it fill her deeper and deeper with every thrust. And he moved faster and faster, well past the hardest fuck she had ever had. Her nails ground into his thighs, as she moaned, her voice mouthing no words, her pleasure beyond them.
He screamed as her pussy closed around him; it was too much, far too much. He stiffened again within her; she came around him, her pussy closing around him like a vice. He felt it begin, the greatest orgasm of his life. It took him away from his body, filling him with fire, as he felt every liquid surge, magma from him to her. He felt everything that she was; every memory, every feeling, that she owned, his to hold for eternity.
She burned, far more than he ever could have thought possible. It was an orgasm, but wasn't. It was as though her body was his, completely and totally. She knew that he could see her mind, but so too she could see his, feel his memories. She felt his come change her, hit her deep, and modify her irrevocably.
The orgasm did not fade, and Mark kept thrusting until well into the morning.
