For the third time this week I woke up sweaty, nipples stiff, heart racing, vagina brimming with ejaculate.
I flung the sheets aside and ran my hands over my naked body, trying to transfer the impressions into a sensation that could satisfy me. My pussy was soft, hot, and incredibly wet. Wasting no time on tenderness, I put both hands to work, fingering myself and playing with my clit.
The feeling was pleasant. I wasn't looking for pleasant. As the cum dribbled out of me, my heat and urgency dissipated.
I abandoned the endeavor and lay back with a sigh.
It was later that day that I had the idea. I wrote a note and left it on my nightstand. "Please wake me up next time." I drew a heart on the page to clarify that it was a happy request.
Nothing changed.
Another week went by. Four more times I woke up
after
it fucked me, and four more times I failed to achieve orgasm. I grew increasingly horny. I fucked myself to sleep with my hitachi more than once, but the arc of my need remained consistent. Getting off on my own didn't help.
So I went to my boyfriend, Kyle.
He didn't take me seriously at first.
"We can roleplay that if you want," he said, smirking.
"Ugh." Who
would
take this seriously, though? "Can you just
pretend
to believe me?"
"Oh. That's the part you want me to roleplay. Okay. I'll do my best."
I sighed, unsure how this would pan out, but I did find him more receptive.
"So you made an arrangement with some kind of sex demon—"
"An incubus."
"Right, an incubus. And it's fucking you in your sleep, and you're
fine
with that, but you wish you were experiencing the sex?"
"You're just repeating what I said."
"I'm trying to clarify! Is all that correct?"
"Yes," I said. We were fully clothed, sitting on Kyle's bed. He was tenting a bit in his sweats, so I reached out and felt his growing boner. He had a nice dick, and a nice heart. We liked fucking each other. That had nothing to do with this. "This may sound stupid, but I want to get off with the incubus inside me. Masturbating thinking about it, even right after it happens, just doesn't do it for me. I didn't give my body to this thing to
not
get off on its visits."
"That doesn't sound stupid, babe."
I squinted at Kyle, trying to discern if he meant it or if this was him pretending to believe me.
Roleplaying
. He seemed to sense my scrutiny, and doubled down.
"What can I do?" he asked.
He was achingly hard in my hand. The contagious warmth spread rapidly through the thin material of his pants, and I felt my body beginning to flush.
"First of all you can fuck me," I said. "And when the blood returns to your head, we can brainstorm some solutions to my problem."
"Sounds like a plan to me!"
One of Kyle's enduring charms was that he was eternally down for sex, but in an easygoing way. He was cool with it, he was happy to do it, and my propositions always brought a coy smile to his lips.
"How do you want it?" he asked.
"Fucking quickly," I grumbled.
It felt like I hadn't had a cock in me in weeks. He obediently raised his butt so I could slip his sweats off, then waited as I crawled up the bed and got on my hands and knees.
"Want me to eat you?"
"Please just stick it in."
"Aight."
He hiked up my skirt, hooked his fingers around the waistband of my boxers. Something in my chest ached in anticipation. The fabric slid over my ass, and I felt the wetness begin to escape.
"Holy shit," he said.
"Believe me now?"
"You've just been walking around with this
in
you all day?"
I moaned. "Please just fuck me already."
"You're certainly lubed up enough." Kyle sounded impressed. The bed shifted under his weight as he inched closer to me, and then his hands were on my hips and the tip of his cock was pressing against my vulva.
"Tell me how it feels," I breathed, voice hitching briefly as he pushed himself fully in.
His thighs met my ass, driving me forward a bit. I pushed back, grinding against him.
"It feels nice," he said. "It always does. How is it for you?"
"Your cock is hot and hard and I like feeling full."
He pulled back and thrust a few times, gently. I didn't typically have issues with wetness, and we often used lubes on top of what nature gave me, but I had never fucked Kyle this wet before. He moved in and out with ease, greased by the demon's cum. It felt amazing. He sped up. No matter the pace or angle, I felt a rush every time his cock filled me.
"It's different," he admitted, wonder in his tone.
"Yeah."
I couldn't say more. My breathing was ragged, my exhales becoming moans. My body filled with tension as Kyle sped up. My knuckles were white on his headboard. Demon cum mixed with my own juices ran down my thighs, splattered onto Kyle's sheets. He rammed me again and again. I was so full, so wet.
I looked over my shoulder at Kyle, my vision blurring slightly. He, too, was flushed, his breathing uneven. My pussy felt good for him. This was a thought that didn't occur to me much in my daily routine, but it sometimes occurred to me during sex, and when it did, it made me feel sexy. I was a good fuck. The thought always triggered something in me, and this time was no exception. I felt my pussy contract.
My mind flickered back to the demon. My pussy felt good for it, too. It loved fucking me. It kept coming back. It kept spending itself inside me. That extra realization, on the brink of my orgasm, deepened my pride, my joy, my pleasure.
I'd had plenty of great orgasms in my life. I'd had multiple orgasms, serial orgasms. I'd had sessions where I'd fucked myself silly for hours, coming again and again.
This was different. It was simultaneous, synchronous. Two orgasms at once.
My body flopped forward, but Kyle caught me, one arm snaked around my hips, one hand on my shoulder. He pulled me back roughly, keeping me on his cock. That set me off again.
"I'm going to add to it," he groaned, and I came
again
.
And then we were still for a moment. Time stretched out impossibly. His cock had never felt so big inside me. He wasn't thrusting, he wasn't breathing.
I needed him to
move.
Panic began to build in me. Was he okay? Was I okay? My entire body was tense, as if cramping horribly. I needed to do something, needed to move some part of myself. I felt like if I didn't, I'd lose motion forever.
Just when I was sure I could take no more, I felt the twitch deep inside me.
The dam of tension broke. My body was my own once more, and it was still coming. Kyle was emptying himself inside me, deep as he could get, cock spasming two dozen times before he relinquished his grip on my hips. I shuddered as he slipped out of me.
"Fucking hell," he whispered.
"You have no idea," I said. I'd lost any means of tracking or quantifying my own pleasure.
"Was that different for you, too?" he asked.
I just laughed.
"I wonder if its cum is magical," Kyle said.
"No way to know."
"Pssssh." Kyle crawled up alongside me, brushed the hair out of my face, hugged me. "We have the scientific method, babe."
We didn't brainstorm that night—we slept like rocks.
In the morning, we were both sore, but just looking at each other's faces set off chain reactions of childlike giggles. It was like the first time we'd fucked, before we knew exactly what we were, or the morning after he'd brought that chick Brittany into our bed.
We didn't brainstorm, but we did set up experiments.
When the demon fucked me, I did my best to keep its gift in my pussy until I could see Kyle. I also made sure to sleep with Kyle on days that I'd not been visited, for comparison. It was hard to claim conclusive evidence, but the demon's ejaculate did seem to affect our sex. The more I managed to save, the better my orgasms, the more painful Kyle's pauses before coming, the sweeter for both of us his release.
Weeks passed. The incubus visited me approximately half the nights. Though I was finding spectacular release with Kyle, I was still thirstier than ever.
Kyle found himself flagging. "You could try this with someone else," he said.
"What, just go pick up a guy and bang him with my pussy full of demon cum?"
"Why not?"
It was a good question. I echoed it in my head.
Why not?