Desires in the Dar

Heather was feeling nervous as she and Cam approached his loft. They'd had a fine time with their friends, grilling and volleyball and Heather listening to Cam and his bicycle buddies going all deeply nerdy, talking about their favorite vehicles. Both she and Cam had consumed some edibles early in the party, but it had been a long afternoon and evening and the mellow had mostly gone away. And now, she knew, she had to woman up and face the questions she'd been putting off, of what was happening to her when the lights were out. But her stomach felt like it was twisting in her gut, and she was not sure how she should begin, or what would happen when she did.

As they stepped inside and Cam flipped on the lights, Heather noticed gratefully that the evening air had brought the little rooftop loft back down to bearable temperatures. A little stir of air came through the open windows, rustling through the colorful curtains she and Cam had hung last year.

Cam turned to her and asked, "You staying over, babe?"

"I'd like to," Heather said, and then uncomfortably went on, "Though I do have something serious to talk to you about." She crossed her arms and felt her thumping heart.

"Okay," he said, frowning slightly, "Did something happen at the party?"

"No, no." She paused, then said, "It's nothing like that, really. It's something going on with me. But also, I guess, with you somehow."

"Hold on," he said, "I'm getting myself some water, and I'll bet you need some too."

Heather nodded, glad enough for the delay, and stood there awkwardly. She thanked him for the water when he brought it, drank a bit, and contemplated all the stupid-sounding ways that she could start to talk about her problem. All of it sounded insane, in any case, and maybe she was in fact insane.

She must have been thinking for a rather lengthy time, because she found laid-back Cam actually speaking up to prompt things, "So, yeah, if you don't want to talk we won't, but if you do?"

"I do," she said, and frowned again, "I'm just having a hard time starting this. I don't even know if it's real or if it's in my head."

"I don't know what's on your mind, but it sure is getting to you, isn't it?" His open face was innocently sympathetic.

She just had to take the plunge. "Cam, I'm worried because I think I'm turning into a monster around you." There, it was out, and on the table.

Cam didn't seem to get it, though. He was saying, "Naw, babe, that's not so. I don't know what you think you're doing that's so bad, but..."

"No, Cam!" Heather's tone was sharp. "I mean literally and physically a monster."

"I, um, I don't think I see it really." He seemed just more confused than anything, and really she couldn't blame him for it.

She had to try better with her explanation. "Just listen. You remember the other night when we were having sex at my place? Remember how everything got real weird?" He was nodding along as she continued, "It happened this afternoon again, in your bathroom, when I was cleaning up. I think I'm turning into some sort of monster, but only in the dark and only when I'm near you."

He looked incredulous. "I'm sorry, babe, but what the shit?"

"It's crazy, right?" she shook her head, "And maybe it is just crazy too. Maybe I'm going crazy and it's all hallucinations. In which case, that's pretty bad as well, isn't it?" She shivered. "I don't like it, Cam, because either one's no good. Either I'm turning into a monster or I'm crazy and I just think I am."

She stopped and took a deep breath. "So I want to find out. With you."

"Well, shit," he said, running his hands back through his shaggy blonde hair, "I guess there's just one thing to do, huh? I mean, you gotta know, right?" He blew out a breath and straightened up a bit. "So, how do you wanna do this, babe?"

Heather thought about his question. She hadn't expected him to agree to this so easily, but in retrospect she should have. He probably wasn't worried that she would actually turn into a monster because, well, why would he be? And he was caring and supportive, and she knew he'd dealt with mental health problems in his friends before. But she was pretty sure that it was real, and she had not thought through what she would do. But she knew where to start at least.

"First, I'm going to get naked. I've been naked every time before, and even if it still happens when I'm dressed, I don't want to mess my clothes up." Cam nodded at her and she went on, "And I want you to be naked too with me."

His face looked quizzical, so she explained, "I want to cuddle up, before. I could use some reassuring touch. I don't want to get sexual right now. I just want to hold you, and if I'm going to be naked, I want you to be as well."

He nodded, looking satisfied, and echoed back, "OK, get naked and cuddle up. Then just switch off the light?"

"That's right," she said, "let's lay down on your futon and just have your lamp on. We'll turn off everything else, even my night light." She looked over wistfully at the little red airplane-shaped light in the kitchenette that she'd brought over the first time she had stayed the night.

"And then?" asked Cam.

"And then we'll know," she said, "When we switch off the light, it'll be damned obvious if it happens."

"Rock on." He threw a little head-banging metal devil-horns gesture, then took their glasses to the sink.

Heather looked down unhappily at the futon lying on the floor. It just felt wrong to her somehow, and she wished it were a proper bed, with a nice dark space beneath for her to crawl under. Not that she knew why she felt that way, and yet she did, almost instinctively. If I'm a monster, she thought, am I a monster under the bed? Is that what's going on?

She shivered at the thought, but started taking off her clothes in any case. First her white linen shirt, popping the buttons one by one down from the top. Then her little shorts as well. Then bra and panties, leaving herself fully naked and open and vulnerable, a short and skinny blonde girl standing by the futon with her hair still in its messy pony-tail. She waited, standing awkwardly, while Cam came over and undressed as well, watching him even though she was in no mood to appreciate his body properly. Then, when he turned to her, she stepped up to bring their bodies close together, letting him wrap her in his embrace. She held him tightly back, tucking the top of her head beneath his chin and letting him surround her. She smelled his healthy, manly body and his sweat, felt his heat against her own slightly sticky skin. His breath was ruffling her hair, and she turned her face up for a gentle kiss, then drew them both down to the futon next to them.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she lay there. She didn't want to do this, and was scared of what she might find. She turned on her side and held Cam tight, clutching at him like a life raft in a stormy sea. His arm reached calmly around her shoulder and held on too. Lying on his left with her head against him, she could hear his heart was slow and steady, still calm despite her shallow breathing up against him.

Heather lay there listening to Cam's heart, and slowly her own began to settle down as well. She felt their sweat-daubed skin sticking together. Releasing him, she lay back and stared at the ceiling up above, her foot and thigh still pressed comfortingly against his. Cam's hand was still around her shoulder.

"OK," said Heather, "Can you please switch it off?"

"Right on." Cam pulled his arm out so he could lean to reach the lamp, and before Heather knew it, the light was out and darkness fell across them both.

Just as before, that indescribably strange sensation swept out through her body, from somewhere deep in her center through her arms and legs, and she felt herself grow and stretch out slimily on the futon, head pushing the pillow up against the wall and legs and arms stretching out and down. Her legs were not just two but more, many, and flexible. Where her right leg had been pressing up against Cam's left before, she felt several of her legs, or maybe they were tentacles, beginning to wrap themselves lithely around his thigh and calf, bringing a liquid, wet, and silken pleasurable sensation, their inner surfaces sucking and grasping lightly at his skin. On the other side, she felt expanding, grasping legs exploring the edges of the futon, wrapping themselves along its side and holding on to anchor her. Her mouth was filling up with rows and rows of needle teeth again, her swollen tongue pressing up against them from behind as she felt her mouth begin to open slightly and her breath begin to come in and out with a low and rumbling sort of noise.

Her legs. Or tentacles? The fact that she was touching Cam down there drew her attention to them. They felt like her legs to her, except that there were many now and they were all bending around so flexibly like tentacles, like there weren't any bones inside at all. She hadn't been aroused when this had started, but the sensual feeling of having several warm and silky legs, all writhing and wrapping around her lover's leg, was getting to her. Her cunt was soaking anyway, in whatever slimy substance seemed to cover her body's surface now, but now she felt it start to swell and ache, a growing need for being filled. And Cam was speaking next to her, asking, "So, uh, you want to tell me what I'm feeling?" He wasn't tense, that she could tell, he wasn't recoiling from her monstrous body yet. In fact, he sounded mostly curious.

She wasn't sure if she could speak. She tried. It came out thick and low, a monstrous sound that was somewhat mangled by her transformed teeth and tongue but clear enough to understand. "I think that I've got slimy tentacles instead of legs, and I guess I'm wrapping three of them around your leg."

"Not just wrapping, I'd say." She felt herself continuing to writhe, and knew that she agreed. "I'd say you're being pretty darned affectionate with your tentacles."

"You're sexy, even when I'm a monster," Heather rumbled awkwardly, and knew that it was true. "And I am a monster. You feel it too."

"Well, not much yet," he laughed, "Just your tentacular legs so far." A pause, and she could feel him turn so he was facing her, his legs a little awkward with her tentacled embrace. And then he spoke again and asked, "Can I touch more of you?"

"Be careful by my mouth," she slurred, "My teeth are really sharp."

He probably nodded in the dark, and then she felt his hand come down, touching the slimy surface of her belly. Gently, he moved it back and forth. Her slime was only slightly sticky, not like glue, more like vaseline or lube. That deep dark scent of tropical flowers was all around them now, and she could tell that it was coming from her skin, intensifying as her lover moved his hand across her now. He found her belly button, proving to both of them it was still in place, then moved up toward her breasts. Heather could hear in his breath that he was gradually becoming aroused, and felt his half-hard cock as it bumped up against her waist, much higher than usual since her body was so much longer now.

"Touch me," she rumbled quietly, and he complied, bringing his hand across the soaking surface of one of her nipples, cupping her still-small slimy breast within his hand.

"Why is it," Heather growled, "that I can turn into some big monster but my damned breasts are still so... ah!" He'd silenced her with a spike of pleasure as he found her breasts were just as sensitive as usual.

"Who needs big breasts when yours are so dramatic anyway?" He knew her well, she thought, chortling at the thought with a sound like a congested sewage line.

"Mmm, yes, keep doing that," she gurgled, and writhed beneath his touch, sloshing back and forth atop her oozing slime. Her tentacles were flopping back and forth, reaching and grabbing outwards as she flexed her hips (were they still hips?) and spread her cunt out wide. She flexed her cunt and felt like it was hungry, needy to grasp and clench and hold.

But Cam did not stay on her breast for half as long as Heather would have liked. He moved up to her neck, then head, circling his fingers through her hair. She could feel its strands clinging together damply as he moved his fingers here and there, felt him find her ponytail, which was apparently still in place despite her body's changes. She felt comforted to know that she still had her hair at least, and wondered if it was actually still blonde. No way to tell without a light, of course.

The head massage was nice, and then she felt him draw his hand slowly down her forehead. She closed her eyes as his gentle hand passed over them, then drew up to the end of her nose and gently, ever so gently, settled down across the nest of jagged pointy teeth in her massively expanded mouth. She opened her mouth, hot moist breath blasting out at him in waves, and his fingers touched the outer row or two of points. Unable to resist, she licked his hand with her thick swollen tongue, but did not dare to try to suck on him, unsure if she could do it without severely puncturing things.

"You're right," he said, "You sure do have a lot of teeth, and they feel sharp." His hand pulled out again, then traveled down, across her chin, then collarbone, back to her other breast, sensually plowing through her lube-like body slime.

At this, she couldn't take the tension any more, bursting out loudly, "How the fuck are you so calm? Can't you tell that I'm a fucking monster now? Sharp teeth! Slime! Tentacles! The works!"

"I dunno," said Cam, hand trailing to her side. She could tell, even without seeing him, that he'd just done that laid-back shoulder shrug of his. "I mean, you're still you, aren't you?"

"I guess so, maybe?" She did not feel sure.

"Do you still love me?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to eat me?"

He said it so casually and confidently, so utterly sure of the answer in the face of her monstrous transformation that Heather burst out laughing helplessly, bellowing roaring burbles exploding from her like bubbles rising from the bottom of a swamp. She wrapped her arms around and pulled him down across her chest, holding on tightly even as she felt how rubbery and stretchy her arms had become, not tentacles but something close, still ending in a hand.

She lay there, wracked with hysterical gasps of soggy-sounding laughter, clenching her boyfriend up against her coating of viscous floral-smelling slime. Cam held her back, waiting patiently for her to settle down. Eventually, she did.

But Heather wasn't letting her question go, and rumbled out again, "So tell me why. I want to know why you aren't scared of me or weirded out."

Cam sat up, and as he did she let go of her grip, sliding her hands down to his thighs. She heard the sound of him tousling his shaggy hair, and then he said, "Shit, Heather, I dunno. There's not much really scares me anyway, and there's just so much that science doesn't know about the world in any case. Like that time I told you about when I saw a ghost, or like those twins I heard about who always know what the weather is where the other twin is."

"And that's the same as your girlfriend turning into a slimy monster with lots of tentacles?" She wasn't sure that she believed him, certainly knew that she did not believe in ghosts or the supernatural. But maybe she should, given her situation now.

Cam seemed undiscouraged by her skepticism, however. "Monster is as monster does, I guess. I'm a lot more worried about getting doored, or assholes in SUVs who try to make some sort of statement by crowding me on the road. Did I tell you about the woman who told me it was illegal for my bike to be on the road because I don't pay gasoline taxes? Fucker rolled down her window at a light and yelled that at me. I thought she was gonna pull a gun and try to do a citizen's arrest."

He paused, as Heather giggle-burbled. She hadn't heard that one, but it didn't exactly surprise her. She'd heard a lot of crazy bicycle stories from him over time.

Continuing, Cam took a more serious tone again. "That shithead, her I could be afraid of. You didn't choose your body, so why should I hold it against you? You start feeling like you want to take a bite out of me, however, I want to know it. I might feel different then."

"I don't want to eat you," Heather rumbled, "though I have wanted some parts of you inside certain other parts of me." She frowned, though, thinking. "Cam, not being afraid of me is different than actually liking me like this. Am I still attractive to you like this?"

"Now that's a question with no right answer," he said in a joking voice. "You wanna ask me if that dress makes you look fat, too?"

"Don't be an asshole, Cam. I'm serious. I'm still kind of horny for you over here, despite your little crack, but I need to know if I should turn the lights on first or not."

"Shit, Heather, I dunno," he said, that same damned phrase, and she could hear him doing that hair-tousling thing again. Somewhere as they'd been talking, her hands had left him and a space had opened up between them. Her tentacles weren't even wrapped around his legs any more, but drawn together beneath her in a tensed up knot.

She felt that space between them acutely as he spoke again. "I'm not really a hentai kind of guy. It's not my kink, and neither is wet and sticky stuff, so your slime's not exactly my fantasy either, you know? But sex is weird and sticky anyway, if you really think about it, and when I'm turned on I sure don't mind. I really enjoyed touching your breasts earlier, and making you squirm with pleasure underneath my touch, and I liked how it felt you were wrapping your tentacles around my legs as well. So I guess, yeah, I guess let's try. Be good, giving, and game, you know?"

Heather was feeling better now, more confident that their relationship could weather this crazy change in circumstances. "I'm glad to hear. It's all quite new for me as well, of course, so I don't know what monster sex is going to be like either. But I guess we can try to figure it out together, though."

"I'm down," he said, but then, in voice more serious still, "But Heather, you've got to stop calling yourself a monster."

"Why not?" she grumble-growled, "Isn't it obvious I'm some sort of monster?"

"I just... naw, shit, I'm mansplaining. Fuck that. You can be a monster if you think that's the right word. And shit, are your pronouns still the same?"

"Cam, you're being stupid now. I am definitely still a she/her over here, and I am going to fuck your brains out now, if you are up for it." Heather rose up into something like a sitting position, only her tentacles were spread around in all directions, the front-most ones beginning to wrap and twine around her boyfriend where he sat.

Cam leaned in and gave her a loud and clear answer as he reached out to hold her waist and drew her in towards him. Her tentacles moved her easily forward and she wrapped her own slimy, stretchy arms around his back, closing her mouth as much as she was able and leaning in to touch her nose against his nose, rubbing lightly in the best approximation of a kiss that she was comfortable with just now. He brought his hands up to her nipples and held on tight, bringing a horn-like whining sound out of her mouth. After a little bit of that, Heather pushed him gently backwards, sending him flat while her tentacles brought her up on top of him. Her cunt was clearly dripping now, actually dribbling fluids down on her lover and the futon in a way it never had in her normal human form. It felt different somehow, too, but she wasn't in a mood to investigate.

Instead, she maneuvered it onto Cam's rigid, twitching cock, agilely grabbing on and sliding it inside as she brought herself down, down, down, and opening wide to stretch and pull not just his cock but balls inside as well, engulfing all his genitalia. He rocked beneath her, held down to the futon by her strong and rope-like tentacles stretching out across all his limbs. She milked him with her dextrous cunt, clenching and shifting and rubbing him back and forth within her as she savored the feeling of his cock and balls inside of her, savored his grunts and moans as he enjoyed it too, fucked him and fucked him until he came, then kept on going, kept riding and clenching and rocking until her own upwelling climax burst out through her senses, leaving her roaring loudly into the darkness of the night.