An Incubus's Guilty Pleasure

Content info and warnings:

This story is about a human/incubus cisgender M/M relationship.

It takes place in a universe where humans know about demons/incubuses, but they're still rare, partly because of their ability to look human when they want to.

It contains representations of: homophobia, strong language, sexually explicit (obviously).

All characters represented are over the age of 18.

Enjoy!

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Part Two:

It seemed the night was going to continue working in my favor, because a couple hours later I felt him move to one of my favorite spots for discreet hook-ups. It was a little pub on the edge of West Hollywood, close enough to be gay-friendly, but not a gay-bar. Essentially it was the kind of place where you could suck a guy off in the back alley without having to worry about A) another guy asking to join in or B) some fuck-wad trying to smash your face in just for liking dick.

I wondered if that's what brought him there too, but I tried not to get my hopes up. I reminded myself that to most people, unless there was a rainbow flag plastered in the window, everywhere was hetero-terf. I arrived about an hour after he did and spotted him at the bar immediately.

Yup, just as I remembered. Tall, brown hair, lightly tanned skin, and a shape that hinted just enough at something better under his jacket and jeans. God I couldn't wait to find out.

I walked up to the bar and looked around, as if checking out the regulars and then, with a feigned look of surprise, I noticed him sitting there towards the end. He hadn't seen me yet, but the show was still necessary, just in case. I walked up beside him and tapped the bar stood.

"This seat taken?" I asked, an expectant smirk already playing around my lips.

He glanced up at me as if not really paying attention, then seemed to do a double take as his eyes widened. To my utmost pleasure, his eyes briefly left my face to do a head to toe sweep of my body, lingering again at my chest. I'd worn a tight shirt just for this reason. My nipple piercings stuck out slightly against the fabric and I could tell they caught his attention as he took me in for the second time that day.

He shook his head without saying a word and I sat. Apparently he was not going to be the first to bring up our earlier meeting.

The bartender came over and asked for my order. "White Russian," I replied, glancing at Jamie, who was sipping on what looked light a whiskey neat, "on him."

The bartender nodded and stepped away to make my drink.

"On me?" Jamie repeated.

I noted he didn't protest though. Perhaps this would be easier than I'd thought. "Seems only fair, since your drink was on me earlier."

He stared down intently at his drink, but I could see a crimson blush creeping over his ears. "So, you did recognize me," he muttered to his drink.

"Why did you think I sat here?" I smirked. "I'm Sy, by the way."

"Jamie," he nodded in greeting. "And I guess an apology drink seems fair." His eyes were still fixed on the bar.

The bartender brought over my drink and I took it, taking a sip. "Only if the company is worth drinking with."

He looked up at me then, a puzzled expression on his face. "You're staying?"

I took another sip. "Of course. How else would you get the next round?"

"The next round? I'm pretty sure I only spilled one drink."

"Oh, that one's for calling me a fag," I replied casually.

To my delight he flinched and blushed deeper. "I uh-I mean-"

But I ignored him. I wasn't here for an apology, nor interested in getting one. "I am, you know."

He stared at me in surprise.

"No, not that. I mean I'm gay."

"Oh, uhm, thanks," he replied awkwardly.

There was a baseball game on the plasma screens and I made some mundane comment about it. He jumped at the opportunity to change the subject and we talked about that for a while. Baseball turned to football and then hockey. It wasn't particularly interesting, but I knew that the longer we talked the more comfortable he'd become, especially after we ordered our second round. At that point he was actually smiling on occasion.

Jamie finished his drink in a gulp and slid off his chair. "I'm gonna grab some air."

I nodded, halfway turning back, though I knew I'd watch him leave once his back was turned. Which is how I saw his stop and turn back to look at me, his cheeks a little rosier now from the booze and warmth of the pub.

"You smoke?" He asked with a little smile.

"Only when I drink," I smiled back, finishing the last of my drink and standing up to follow him outside.

We stepped into the side alley and leaned against the cool brick wall. It was a warm night with a cool breeze, just barely starting to hint at fall after the blazing hot of the summer days.

Jamie pulled the pack out of his pocket and places a cigarette between his lips. I pulled a lighter from own pocket and lit it for him. My eyes never left his face as he took a long puff, leaning back against the wall before he let it all out in one long exhale. I looked at the carton still in his hand, but didn't recognize the label.

"I've never had those," I said, gesturing at the pack.

He pulled the lit stick from his mouth and exhaled again. "Want to try?" He offered.

"Love to." I stepped forward and with a gentle, but intentional movement, twist the hand that held his half-burned cigarette towards my own lips. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his shocked expression as I brought his palm to my mouth, his slightly trembling fingers creating a delicate cage around my nose. I pressed the filter to my mouth, already damp with Jamie's saliva, and inhaled deeply. After a second, I released his hand and tilted my lips up to the sky before breathing out slowly, seductively. Letting the smoke blur the inches between our faces before I faced him again.

At the end of the exhale I stepped back again. "Thanks, tastes good," I smiled before leaning back against the wall next to him and pulling my own pack from my pocket. As I lit up I let my mind reach out to his and found it fraught with a confused excitement.

Perfect.

I finished my cigarette in silence as Jamie smoked a second. "You know," I said, grinding the bud under my shoe, "I think I actually like yours better. Mind if I have another taste?"

He glanced at me then for the first time since I'd started smoking. "Uhm, no. I mean—Ye-yeah."

He was so flustered, I almost felt bad coming onto him like this. Almost. Before he moved away again, before he could even rethink the situation, I had stepped in. My steady breath on his face as I leaned closer, closer.

He tasted just like his cigarettes and yet so much better. Probably because of how good he felt. His lips were obscenely soft, yielding nervously to my touch as his warm breath panted through them.

I leaned back a couple inches, allowing him to catch his breath, or run, or punch me. I'd had it all before. He stayed. I closed the distance again, my lips harder, my movements quicker. He responded in kind. His gentle kiss turned surprisingly passionate as trembling hands wrapped slowly around my waist, my own locking around his own waist and into his hair, holding him tightly to me. He'd had his chance to escape, now he was mine. After a moment I felt his tongue licking curiously against my lips and an involuntary moan escaped me, forcing my mouth open just enough for him to slip inside. His tongue was even softer that his lips and tasted even stronger of cigarettes. Every cell in my body was begging for more.

We were still against the brick of the building so I turned, pushing him back into it. I kissed him deeper and pressed our bodies together. I'd already felt with my mind's touch his mental excitement, but now I felt his rigid cock straining against my hip and I rubbed my own throbbing erection against him.

Breathing hard, I slipped my hands under his shirt and began feeling the skin underneath. I was right, hard muscles lined the lean body. My own body throbbed with desire as I touched him. "There's a motel a couple blocks from here," I whispered into his ear, before biting at it playfully and then moving on to his neck.

I felt him stiffen under me, anxiety radiating out.

Damn it, had that been too far. Should I have not said anything? Should I have just started blowing him right now? Maybe I still could.

"I never, uh—you know—with a guy I mean."

I kissed him again, slowly this time, trying to emphasize intimacy over lust. Then I met his eyes, my own wide and dazed with desire. "Jamie, I want you to fuck me," murmured.

Whether it was a blatant request or just the reassurance that I wasn't going to try to fuck his ass, well not tonight anyways, that was enough for him.

Jamie nodded and smiled nervously.

I kissed him one more time and then grabbed him by the hand as we began a fast walk through the next couple streets, pausing every so often when no one else was around to kiss or paw at each other through our frustratingly tight clothing.

I paid the disinterested desk clerk in cash as Jamie waited outside. I hadn't told him to, but I'd left the option open just in case he didn't feel comfortable stumbling into a motel at 11 O'clock at night with my queer ass.

Outside I grabbed Jamie's hand again and led him to our second story room. I unlocked it and pushed it open. We barely had the door closed again before he had me up against it. He was so eager. I hadn't expected it, but I was thrilled.

His hands pulled off my fitted shirt and ran down my chest. I watched his eyes grow wide as they took in my stainless-steel nipple barbells. They usually had this reaction and I loved it every time.

"Do those hurt?" he asked cautiously.

"Only when I first got them done. Now they feel really good." I paused for a moment, watching him stare. "You can touch them if you want. I'd actually kind of like it if you did." My heart sped up as he nodded hungrily.

He slipped one cautious finger over my right nipple, nudging the little bar. I moaned softly at the electric sensation. Tentatively, he leaned down and flicked at the piercing with his tongue. I almost lost it.

"Fuck," I gasped, pulling him closer so I could grind against him as we kissed again.

Still embracing, we stumbled backwards onto the bed as I yanked off his shirt, revealing an athletic build and sun kissed skin. I kissed him from collar to navel, tugging playfully at the top of his jeans with my teeth as I stared up at him.

I sat there then, stranding his rigid member through his jeans, as I stared down at his eager expression. But something else was distracted me. A silver chain had lain below his shirt and on it, a tiny silver cross. "Is this why you hate me so much?" I asked in a voice that was more sad than harsh. I knew it didn't set the mood, but it was distracting me so I had to asked.

He looked away and squirmed a little under me. "My family... they'd hate me—no, they'd kill me if they knew I was here right now."

"And you? Do you hate this?" I pressed harder against his groin for emphasis.

He gasped a little. There was real pain and confliction on his face now. A sadistic part of me was enjoying it. Enjoying watching him wrestle with his demons, while not knowing of the one that literally rode him as he spoke. After a moment he shook his head. "No." He paused. "I don't... I mean, I don't want to be like them."

"Yet you still go around calling strangers fags?" I tugged open the top button of his jeans as I said this. I felt angry, wild, yet sad for him and all of this just made me want to fuck him more.

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I mean—ah!" he gasped as I slid open his zipper and began rubbing his cock through his thin boxers. They were already spotted through with precum as I touched him.

"Go on," I coaxed, as if my hand wasn't currently massaging his dick.

"I was checking you out in the coffee shop, ah! And,—ah—it turned me on so much, but then I felt guilt so I lashed out—fuck—ah!" he moaned as I pulled the cloth free and began stroking his raw member. My hand was soon dripping with precum. As I watching him squirm under me, apologizing and ejaculating, it was all I could do to not break my promise and fuck him right then.

I pushed myself off him, only to lean back down the next moment and run my tongue up the length of his cock. I kissed the tip then, swallowed the throbbing flesh, taking the whole thing into my mouth until it pressed against my throat, until I felt Jamie moaning and twitching under me. I moved back to the tip, kissed him again, and then upwards, licking and kissing his stomach and chest. I stopped at the little necklace and took it in my mouth too, holding the cross against my lips. I watched for his reaction, but saw only lust in his eyes. I let it fall from my lips as I kissed him deeply.

Well, I thought, all or nothing now.

"I forgive you," I whispered. "After all, I haven't been completely honest with you either."

"What do you mean?" He asked nervously, obviously confused since realistically, he had basically just taken a stranger to bed. How much could I have lied in that time.

"Tell me Jamie. You say you don't follow your family's strict religiosity... but, would you fuck a demon?"

His eyes grew wide and, for the first time, truly concerned.

I expected this, hoped for it even, but it still left me anxious. I would never force someone into sex. That was a line I'd drawn a long time ago. I also hated to lie about my identity and only did it if I was really desperate for energy. So, if telling the truth meant skipping a couple meals, so be it. After all, the trade was worth it. Human sex was good, but sex in my true form was... well, orgasmic was a given, but this put the word to shame.

I slid off of him and stood at the end of the bed. Slowly, as if trying not to spook a wild animal, I took off my jeans and boxers and kicked then out of the way. All the while, watching him for a reaction. After a deep breath, I closed my eyes, concentrating. I could feel the change happen without looking.

A patchwork of ruby scales appeared at intervals on my otherwise cream-colored skin. It spiraled up one hip and appeared again across my shoulder blades before disappearing and reappearing along one sharp jaw. Perhaps most noticeable though, were the scales that crested my pelvis and the top of my shaft. Incubuses didn't have body hair, even in their human forms, but as demons it was not uncommon to have scales. Although, it did not always reassure our human companions.

But a few stray scales on my cock was usually overshadowed by what had just seemly materialized by my feet. Which was, of course, a long, thin, crimson tail. Which ended in what looked like an upside-down heart. It twitched excitedly around my ankles, finally free of the magics that had hidden it all day.

At long last I opened my eyes and looked at Jamie through ruby-red pupils. I smiled at him and licked my lips, revealing a now-forked tongue.

"So, what's it gonna be?"

End part two