Omnymphotents: Meeting Cyl

When I first met her, she was making coffee in my kitchen. I was just coming out of the bathroom, still a bit groggy after having done my morning business. I was, thankfully, off work for the weekend, but I still had trouble sleeping in past six. Years of early rising had trained my internal clock for it.

As I stepped out into the hallway, I heard the sounds of movement, the clink of a mug on the counter, and the tinny beep of the coffee maker finishing up a brew. For a brief moments, in my half-sleep, I wondered why my wife was up so early. Then, as the scent of coffee struck my nose and coaxed me more awake, I remembered my wife and I had divorced two years ago, and she'd moved to another country since.

My body tensed. I was in just my boxers and an undershirt. My shotgun was under my bed, but it was unloaded, and there was no way I was going to reach it before the intruder could catch me if they came around the corner. My golf clubs, which now served mostly to collect dust, were in the garage. My baseball bat was in the hall closet, but could I reach it in time to use it?

I realized it didn't matter. They knew I was up; they must have heard me in the bathroom already. I weighed my options, standing there. They weren't coming out to get me. I decided to go for the bat. The closet was the next door between me and the kitchen. If I just moved quickly enough—

"I'm not going to shoot you, sir," came a honeyed, feminine voice. "I'm not here to rob you, either. I'd just like to have some coffee with you."

That gave me pause. Why would an intruder come in and offer me coffee? And why did intruder sound like a sultry young woman?

I grabbed the bat anyway, just in case. Women can be dangerous, too. And she might not be alone; her boyfriend might be hiding on the other side of the doorframe, ready to bring a lead pipe down on my head.

I stepped cautiously over to the door, standing back from it, rather than stepping through. I looked around the corner, my bat at the ready. There were no thugs waiting to brain me. The woman wasn't aiming a gun at the door.

Instead, she had her back to me and was pouring two mugs of hot coffee. I vaguely remembered I was actually out of grounds, and had been for three days. But that thought was cut off partway as I found myself stunned by the woman herself. She had a long shock of silvery-white hair, hanging all the way down to her shapely ass. She wore a red terrycloth robe, but as she turned to face me, I could see the curves of her figure quite clearly under the material, as it hugged her curves just so. Her skin was pale, though her nails and lips were blood red. But her most arresting feature were her eyes. She had the almond-shaped eyes of an East Asian, but it was the color that drew me in: they softly glowed with a shining golden hue.

An anime cosplayer had broken into my home and was making me coffee that she must have brought herself. I admit, I stared at her for a good few seconds before my brain registered that I should probably make some words. She just smiled and patiently held the mugs. She took a sip from the left one, and held the right one out to me.

My eyes lingered a bit longer on hers before sliding down to the mug she presented. I felt slightly disoriented for a moment and shook my head. I had still been holding the bat up, ready to strike, but now my arms dropped, holding the weapon loosely.

"Take a sip," she said. "It's good."

Something about her voice compelled me. Almost without thinking, I took the mug in my left hand and tasted it. Almost instantly, the remaining tiredness and mental fog were banished. The dark roast flavor almost tingled on my tongue. For the briefest of moments, it occurred to me that the drink could have been poisoned, but that was banished as the flavor kicked in. This was the best goddamn coffee I had ever tasted. I looked up at her, looked her in the eyes, and managed to only get half-way lost in them this time.

I blurted out the first thought on my mind. "Who are you, what are you doing here, and why are you weird?"

She laughed, smiling merrily. I felt my cheeks flush. She was fucking gorgeous. Adorably gorgeous. Adorably, fuckably gorgeous. I felt my cock twitch as my eyes took in her body. It was only then that I realized I was sporting a throbbing erection. I jumped when I realized it, seeing the head of my cock start to poke through the front hole of my boxers. I dropped the bat, letting it clatter to the floor as I pulled my undershirt down. I bent over as I tried to stretch the bottom of the shirt over my crotch, trying to hide my shame.

"Uh, I, uh..."

She just smiled at me with a sly look and took a seat at the kitchen table. "It's okay," she said, taking another sip of her drink. "We'll address that soon enough." She motioned to the chair opposite her. "Join me?"

I sat down, unable to take my eyes off her, even as I tried uselessly to hide my erection. The only reason my gaze didn't drift down to her shapely bosom was that her golden eyes drew me in so deeply. I found myself trying less and less to think about baseball and sad puppies to force my cock to wilt. Instead, I just lost myself in her eyes again, and my cock pulsed hotly between my legs.

She was perfectly relaxed, with a calm demeanor that assured me she wasn't here to hurt me, and she wasn't at all offended that I'd just popped a boner right at her. I couldn't help but be self-conscious, though. Even though I was wearing some clothes, and the table now covered my shame, I had a stark feeling that I was completely naked before her.

It took a second for me to realize I actually was. As I fumbled another sip of coffee to my lips, I managed to tear my eyes away from hers, as I had to make sure I actually got the rim of the mug to my lips. I noticed my naked, throbbing cock staring up at me, unbound by any cloth. My boxers were gone. So was my shirt.

I blinked, dropping the mug back on the table with a loud clatter, and jerked back in my seat. I had meant to slide back and cover myself, but the chair didn't move, and my hands ended up smacking the table. I clumsily maneuvered my hands under it so I could cover my crotch, still pushing against the floor with my feet to scoot back. But the chair still refused to move.

"What the fuck?" I looked back to see if something was blocking me, but there was nothing behind the chair. It just wasn't sliding back. I also looked to see if, somehow, my clothes had just fallen off, but they weren't on the floor. They weren't anywhere in the kitchen.

"Don, it's alright," said the woman in a soothing voice. "Just relax."

I looked at her, dumbfounded, and found myself sinking into her eyes again. My cock swelled, until it felt like it was going to shoot off my body like a rocket! It felt like it should have hurt, being so hard, but instead, there was only a profound, but not entirely unpleasant, pressure.

My jaw worked. "I... I... I'm sorry."

Her eyes twinkled with mirth. "For what?"

"I don't know, uh, how this happened." My brain was so frazzled, it wasn't making the proper connections. It didn't even register that she'd called me by my name just then. To be fair, she hadn't explained herself just yet, but I was so out of it just looking at her that I guess I must have thought I'd somehow tripped out of my clothes when I sat down, and not noticed until just then. That's the effect she has on you, especially the first time. Your mind just turns to mush as your cock (or clit) sucks all the blood out of your brain.

She chuckled, and the sound tickled my brain and melted my heart. "You were thinking you felt naked before me, and I thought that was a very nice idea." She moved forward and pushed my coffee mug towards me. "Here, take another sip."

Dimly, I was aware that I had dropped the mug down pretty hard, maybe enough to crack it, definitely tilted enough that it should have fallen over and spilled. Instead, the mug was still upright, intact, and not so much as a drop had splashed over the sides. Hesitantly, I reached for it and took another sip.

Immediately, I felt a jolt of refreshment. The haze in my mind cleared again somewhat. I was able to string thoughts together once more. I was also very acutely aware of how badly my cock needed to be touched. I almost grabbed myself right then, but some small measure of dignity kept me from such base actions. Instead, I looked back up at the woman, and this time, I managed to lock my gaze on her tits. Her robe was partly open, and her cleavage was almost as entrancing as her eyes.

She just chuckled again. "Sorry, I know I'm a bit overwhelming. I'm trying to tamp it down, honest. But, well, when I'm in the mood, I can only hold myself back so much, you know?"

I looked back up at her smiling face again. I couldn't help it. Those fucking eyes have their own visual gravity, I swear.

"In the... mood...?"

She grinned. "Yes. And I can see this conversation isn't going anywhere until we've both eased some tension a bit. So..." With a sweeping gesture over her own form, her robe also vanished. Her bare body was revealed to me, and my hips jerked as my cock clenched hard. I very nearly ejaculated right then and there!

Instead, my thoughts became a red haze, and my body started moving. This time, the chair didn't resist me as I practically leaped out of it, shoved the small kitchen table aside, and pounced on her. The moment I touched her, she fell back, grabbing my arm and pulling me down on top of her. The chair she'd been sitting in was suddenly gone, but instead of hitting kitchen tile, we hit the soft, yielding surface of my mattress. We were in my bedroom. I barely noticed as I clutched her, pinned her down, and thrust my diamond-hard cock into her already slick pussy.

My mind reeled as the pleasure of entering her overtook me. Her warm, wet, softly firm flesh enveloped my burning hot member. It was like every nerve in my cock had been super-sensitized. I swore I felt every single square millimeter of her pussy with distinct clarity as I plunged deep in side. My cock jerked immediately, and my body shuddered. I was going to cum. In one thrust, I was going to cum!

I felt myself unload my seed into her, but rather than wipe me out, the orgasm only seemed to spur me on more! I kept going. I came again in another five thrusts, but it wasn't enough. My cock could not be sated. Again and again, I came inside her, not having enough presence of mind to know where all the semen was coming from or where it was going, not caring that by the fifth orgasm in a row, my cock should have been painfully sore, my semen nearly drained. But I didn't even feel the discomfort of post-orgasm hypersensitivity. There was no refractory period, and my reservoir seemed to instantly refill after every release. My cock just stayed hard and sensitive and refused to leave her.

And if it was good for me, it must have been divine for her. She clutched me with a strength her slight frame couldn't possibly have had, clutched me so tight, I could barely breathe. But my body kept going, and with every frantic thrust, she moaned and cried out, and bucked her hips against me. She bucked so hard that at some points she repeatedly lifted us off the bed. The springs of my mattress got as much of a work out as we did.

She wasn't using any of the special tricks she'd later show me, the way she could change her body and make her womanhood move in inhuman ways. But I'd had sex before, I knew what a woman felt like, and no previous lover had ever felt like this. It was like I was plunging my cock into a socket designed to pump pure, uncut pleasure right into your nerves. It was like she was orgasm incarnate, both experiencing and freely giving sensations on a level that should have given me a heart attack, should have fried my synapses with overload, but somehow, I held on. Somehow, I continued to pleasure her, and myself, and we came and came and came and came and came.

We went at it for at least an hour, maybe two, maybe even three. I'm not sure when exactly we stopped. But I know we cuddled together for a long while afterwards. We might have slept, or at least, I did. My thoughts slowly coalesced back to coherence as I drifted in and out of awareness.

When my brain finished rebooting, I was aware that I was lying on my back, and the white-haired, golden-eyed girl was curled up against me, smiling contentedly. She was using my right shoulder as a pillow, my arm curled around her back. When she realized I was cognizant again, she looked up and smiled. "Hey."

"Hey." Just looking at her made my cock start swelling again, but that insane round of unnatural sex seemed to have at least cooled me off enough to not immediately fall back into her spell. I lay my head back, closed my eyes, and tried to process what had just happened.

"I'm sorry," she said as she settled her head back down on my shoulder. "I wanted to ease you in first, but, well, I guess I was a little too excited, myself."

I thought for a long moment. "Did you just rape me?"

"Do you feel like I did?"

"I don't know."

"We were going to end up here anyway. I just sped things along. I apologize, I realize that in doing so, I skipped some important steps."

"Like getting consent."

"I knew you'd consent. I just forgot to ask."

"And how exactly would you know that?"

"Because I know everything about you, Don. I knew sleeping with me was something you would agree to, even ignoring the arousing effect I have on you. It's why I came to you, because I knew there would be no doubt of consent or regret afterwards. But again, I apologize. I got too excited, and let myself skip ahead. I should have gone through the motions to ease you into it."

I thought about it. I could see it. The white hair on such a young woman was unusual, but not unheard of, and gave her an exotic flair. She had a perfect body otherwise. There was not getting around the glowing eyes, though. They pretty cool, but definitely a sign of something freaky.

I thought about a few sections of my porn folder. I suppose I liked it a little freaky sometimes.

The glowing eyes aside, if this woman had approached me in a bookstore or a diner, or we'd met on the bus, and we'd made some small talk and gone out for a coffee, I had no doubt in my mind we'd end up in my bed before the day was out. I knew this for certain, though I didn't know how I knew that. It just seemed obvious when I thought about it. It didn't occur to me at the time that she could have just been making me feel that way, but having gotten to know her since, I feel confident that she wasn't messing with my mind. She just knew the facts, and stated them, with a confidence only the divinely aware could assert.

Still, though I knew she was right, I couldn't fully grasp the situation. "I don't even know who you are."

I felt her shift to look up at me again. I opened my eyes and hesitantly matched her gaze. The glow had faded now, their unnatural shine dimming to something still exotic, but less thought-dissolving. They had an almost coppery sheen to them.

Weirdly, I think that's when it actually fully clicked in my mind that this creature in my bed wasn't human. This woman was some kind of goddess.

She chuckled again, and it felt like music to my brain. "I'm not really a goddess, but I suppose you don't really have a better word for it."

She knew what I was thinking. She said she knew everything about me. Was she some kind of psychic? Reading my thoughts, teleporting stuff around, she must have been some kind of witch or superhuman or something, if she wasn't a goddess.

She sat up, propping herself up on one arm as she gazed down on me. My eyes automatically scoped her curves, and my cock swelled again. A thought occurred to me, that I had just cum so many times in a row, my dick should be broken, my whole body should have been wrung ragged. But there was no damage, no hint of overuse, and my erection presented itself without even a hint of soreness.

The woman smiled and looked appreciatively at my hard cock. I was only six and a half inches, but previous lovers had told me I was wider than normal. I never measured, but all four of them couldn't fit their thumb and forefinger together all the way around it. This woman didn't try to fluff my ego with a statement of how big I was. She didn't really need to; she had just enjoyed my organ very thoroughly, and that was all the assurance I needed.

"As much as I want another go on you, I think we should settle some things first." She held up a finger at my cock as though she was lightly chiding it. My cock actually wilted, softening to a fully relaxed state. She turned and smiled at me. "There, now he won't be so distracting."

I stared at her, not sure what to think. She had just ordered my cock to shrink, and it did so. She had kept me hard and primed through an hour-plus of indescribably intense sex. She had control over my body that was beyond any mere psychic ability. My cock twitched at the thought of that, but remained soft, as per her desire.

She already knew what I was going to ask, but she allowed me the courtesy of letting me do so instead of talking over me. "Who are you?"

"My name is Cyl. Spell C-Y-L, pronounced "sill", like windowsill." She chuckled at that.

"What are you?"

She tapped her finger to her chin and cocked her head to the side, while looking up. My heart skipped a beat at how adorable she was. My cock twitched again, but still did not disobey her by erecting.

She looked back down at me. "That's a hard question to answer. I suppose you could consider me a goddess, but, well, that's not wholly accurate. I guess you could say I'm more like a cosmic being."

"Cosmic being," I repeated. "Like a goddess."

"No, not like that. Not like a goddess from your religions or mythologies. Goddess implies an inherent connection to your universe, implies a level of existential responsibility. A god exists to oversee a certain aspect of reality, be it natural, industrial, or social, and to be the figurehead to which humans pray, in order to influence that aspect. I'm not like that. I'm more like... hmm..."

She glanced to my closet. "You read comic books." I had a couple longboxes of old Marvel comics, a few DC trades, half a box of Valiant. I hadn't read them in a long while, but I never pitched them. "You remember there are characters in those stories that become exposed to cosmic energies or alien phenomenon, and it gives them incredible powers? It could be by accident, or a mysterious being or artifact imbues a mortal with supernatural abilities?"

"I guess. Yeah." I remembered that from the Fantastic Four comics. The main characters gained elemental superpowers because their rocket ship was hit with weird radiation from space. There was also that comic, Watchmen, where a scientist gets trapped in a particle accelerator and torn to atoms, only for his consciousness to survive and be imbued with the power to rebuild his body, and bend matter and energy to his will. There were dozens, if not hundreds, of similar origin stories for other characters.

Cyl nodded at my recollections. "Yes, like that."

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "You're like a comic book character,"

She chuckled. "Well, better, because I'm real! But yes. I have the power to warp reality. But I'm not a goddess, or a genie, or a devil. I'm just me. A normal woman with incredible cosmic powers!"

I nodded along. "Okay. So, you're some kind of superhero."

"No. Superheroes go out and save people and fight monsters. They also usually have a limit to their abilities. I don't."

"Don't what?"

"Either. I'm not running around fighting crime. And my powers don't have limits."

"I see. So what's your origin? How did you get them?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't know."