Chapter 1
"Ugh, why does she have to wear her skirt so damn short? You can see her panties everytime she bends over even slightly! That's just ... trashy. I try not to be a prude, but here, in a public, professional workplace, wearing miniskirts that extreme, that risque, that's just too much!" my sister, Megan, griped about our waitress, being unable to hold back her cattiness for the moment.
"Oh, I don't know. I think that she looks rather charming myself. I don't see what's wrong about exposing a bit more skin. Frankly, you are a bit prudish at the moment, sis," I rebutted Megan, who rolled her eyes in response.
"Men! You would think that, loving the sight of so much bare flesh. Hell, you'd probably be cool with her walking around and working topless and stark naked if that were legal! Rod was just like that, you know! That's why I dumped him!" Megan snapped.
"Yes, I would be cool with topless, naked, or even bottomless. Why not? Nudity is natural. It's the humans who decided that we had to cover up, out of some bizarre notion of modesty. Ever notice that people have to be taught to be ashamed of their bodies, and even then, the ancient Greeks didn't fully absorb the lesson! Here's to 'em, gods bless 'em," I scoffed at her complaint.
"I knew it! You're a pig like Rod!" Megan scowled at me.
"No, I'm just a guy, and there is a difference. We don't wallow around in our shit. And we actually buy you gals things now and then, that we work for ... I doubt that you'd get such an offer from a hog or a boar. For all the loose talk of feminism, most gals still want special privileges. For that matter, you're okay with getting wild while drunk or at parties. Around the men that you know, and the women, for that matter, you put up a front, a facade of modesty and chastity. Men aren't fooled by that, at least not many of us. It's hypocrisy, just like putting out for strangers, but not for first dates.
"There's nothing wrong with being slutty, just don't pretend to be shrinking violets the rest of the time. Only a certain, gullible or prudish subset of men are gonna buy it, and those are the exact same guys who burned witches at the stake. Just sayin'. You didn't live up to their perception or expectations, so it's witch trials for you! I guarantee that had something to do with what happened in Salem, for instance. You're victims of your own success!" I retorted, shutting Megan up for a moment as she tried to think of a rebuttal for that.
"It's patriarchy that imposed such standards on us, you know!" Megan finally countered with typical feminist garbage.
"Horseshit!" I feigned a sneeze, "despite what your Women's Studies professor might have told you, the fact is that the biggest gatekeepers and regulators of women's sexuality and society's batshit crazy morality are women themselves. As you yourself just demonstrated, by sitting in judgment of another woman. Men are far less likely to go around, dissing girls as sluts half the time. Hell, when they hear a woman diss another woman as a slut, half the time, the men start looking for the woman who was dissed. They do their best to forget the woman who's dissing her.
"Now, that's not to say that there aren't prudish, judgmental men, but most of those grew up with conservative, fundamentalist, old-fashioned families and often have two categories of women, anyway. The sluts are for fucking and the virgins are for marriage and family. Before you say it, yes, that's hypocrisy, I'll grant you that. But to acknowledge that type of hypocrisy without admitting your own is yet a third form of hypocrisy in itself. Society is frankly stupid, but that's another whole matter," I poked more holes in her half-baked moral code.
"So, what then, is the answer? To just ... live and let live, anything goes, let people just do whatever the fuck they want? Anarchy?" Megan grasped at her last straws now.
"Well, in terms of sex, sure, as long as they're of age and they consent, and if you ask me, the ages of consent are bogus, too. In Europe, they're much lower for a reason. You can't fight Nature, well you can, but you'll lose every time. Nature dictates, no matter how much you might create bogus societal motives for imposing weird restrictions on people's healthy sexual impulses and animal instincts, that teenage girls are sexually available to guys their own age and above. They need to have the option of charming seducing older men, as a survival strategy if nothing else. And young men need the option of enticing older women to bed or letting themselves be lured into bed by them," I dared to challenge the existing ages of consent, which were rubbish and relatively recent at that.
"What about exploitative relationships, such as teacher and student, parent and offspring, that kind of thing?" Megan really scraped the bottom of the barrel for that retort.
"Aren't they mutually exploitative? The authority figure is using them for sex, yes, but they're using the authority figure for influence, for clout. It's a barter, an exchange of services, a sort of patronage. I don't see anything wrong with patronage. It was one of the structures that made Roman society, for example, work so well. True, slavery was wrong, but patronage just improves the efficiency of our social order, of relationships, and of goods and services within it. I just don't buy that argument," I shredded the rest of Megan's confidence in her social conditioning and instilled values.
"Wow, just wow!" I heard the waitress say as she brought us our beer.
"What?" I sought to clarify her meaning.
"This!" she said as she bent over in front of us and showed us that she had taken off her panties, "fuck me, you eloquent stranger!"
Before Megan could object or anyone stop us, I rose from my seat, went behind the blonde cutie, and unzipped my pants to let my thick rod push deeply inside her! Megan didn't protest, actually, instead moving her hands instinctively to her own crotch and fingering her snatch under her clothes. She downed her beer and started jilling off while seeing me pound the blonde waitress within an inch of her life. I held onto the fair beauty's curls for dear life a few times, especially when she spread her cheeks and stuck a finger in her own ass.
"Yes ... any ... hole ... that ... you want!" she moaned, much to my satisfaction, though I kept it in her steamy, dripping wet cunt for now.
I couldn't help but admire the stranger's pale, sleek buttocks beneath me as I slammed into her twat, even as Megan slipped her arms around my waist from behind to my shock. I pushed harder, deeper, and further into the slippery wet twat underneath me. She was quite juicy in her gash and the more that she fingered her own asshole, the more excited we all became. Even Megan seemed to be into it, as shown by the way that she began kissing the back of my neck.
"What's coming over me, Roger? Why am I lusting for you now? Oh ... fuck!" Megan asked me huskily as she grabbed my ass and fondled my buns.
"Oh, that's my fault," the waitress said, just as she tightened up and squeezed every last drop of my jizz into her soaking wet snatch.
"Meaning?" I asked the server as she relaxed and I pulled out of her, surprised that no one had complained.
"Meaning that I'm not just some waitress, man. I'm a succubus and you've just become my latest prey. Don't worry, you're not going to suffer eternal torment in Hell. It's hard to explain the details, but you've started the transition out of humanity. You're going to be a demon, an incubus. Also, your sister here at first reacted instinctively in response to a perceived threat. She didn't really mind what I wore, not in her heart of hearts, in her soul or spirit. That was a cover story for her.
"You see, deep down, Megan's in love with you and has been for years. She's completely smitten. That's why she left Rod, not because he cheated. By the way, he cheated with a twink, not with a girl. I bet that she never told you that. She thinks that Rod is gay. He's actually bi, but that's another matter. She knew that he was attracted to boys, so she dated him and used him as a beard, thinking that he used her the same way. The moment that he slipped and got caught fucking a guy, she was gonna leave him and hook up with you.
"Yes, see, I was right. He was never more than a placeholder for you. Now, of course, I've somewhat ... briefly, mind you, lifted her inhibitions a bit. When a succubus gets fucked, she releases sexual vibes, sensual ones, erotic energy into the air that suppresses all hang-ups and moral objections for a limited time. Your sister will never be as ready to fuck you as now, and because I've released this energy into the air, no one around you will mind or object. They're well-aware of what you're doing, all of it, but they approve and they'll never even think to use it against you, even after the effect wears off.
"Now, do me a favor and fuck the hell out of your sister! She wants it. She needs it. She'll love every last second of it. Won't you, Megan?" the succubus confronted my sister, who yielded to her encouragement.
Before I knew it, Megan was out of her Daisy Dukes, which slid to her ankles with her panties in tow, her cheeks were spread along with her thighs, and I was balls deep inside her slippery slit. Fuck, I thought, my sister was wet for me! Her chestnut hair was slick with sweat, a sheen of it showing along her lower back as she now displayed a tattoo, a tramp stamp, with my name on it! When the succubus started licking her butt-crack, it merely intensified the act with such delightful rimming.
"A thong, too? Megan really does have a wild side, don't you, dear?" the succubus made my sister blush now.
"Oh ... fuck ... yes! Knock ... me ... up!" Megan begged me as I took her good and hard from behind.
"How am I getting so hard again so fast!" I asked aloud.
