Succubus

Don't wander from the path. They always told him, don't wander from the path. Queer things live in the woods, and they like to lure you off the path.

So, during his walk to town in the afternoons, Beren kept his eyes on the path. In the evenings, after his last drink at the inn, he did the same. In the evenings it was harder. He could hear things, voices lilting on the wind. Whispers that tickled the back of his neck.

But he stayed on the path and always found home...

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Matheson is getting married. It's a long night at the inn, drinking and laughing and singing. Beren drinks more than he aught and stumbles out later than he would. But he starts his walk home dutifully enough, eyes down, his back to the moon, chasing his own long shadow. The walk is so much longer tonight, weighed down by the drink muddying his thoughts.

"Beren..."

He stops.

"Yes... help me..."

A cool sigh of a voice. Off in the trees.

He shouldn't look. Don't wander from the path.

But looking isn't wandering.

He lifts his eyes.

She's as tall as him, with a slender waist and strong legs. Her hair looks auburn, and her eyes glitter in the dark. She reaches a hand out, and in the moonlight, her skin looks green, like the colour of fresh leaves in the spring.

"I need you, Beren..."

He doesn't see her lips move. Truthfully, his eyes have slipped from her hand to her chest. Is this woman naked? Has she been robbed?

He takes a step toward her.

"Yes..."

He's off the path now.

"This way..."

She melts into the shadows of the trees, and he stumbles after her, "Wait!"

He follows what he thinks must be the sounds of her footfalls, bumping off tree trunks and nearly tripping over a root. Finally, he breaks into a clearing, lit by the moon. At the centre is a rocky pool, and he's struck by how thirsty he is, and warm from the pursuit. The urge to wade in catches, and he follows it like a rabbit down a warren. He sheds his clothes, standing bare in the moonlight, and wades into the water. It's cool, and laps at his body with loving fingers. He leans down and washes his face, letting it rung through his hair and down his back.

Lips brush his shoulder.

He spins around, and there she is, the green woman. Naked and watching him with hungry, amber eyes.

This time her lips do move, "I need you, Beren."

He blinks in confusion. "Need me?"

"Yes. Your seed."

"... seed?"

She steps closer, gliding through the water. She wraps an arm around his shoulders, and whispers into his ear, "You men call it cum. I need your cum Beren. Will you give it to me, tonight? And tomorrow night? Again, and again? Will you take me, Beren, and fill me with everything I need? Please?"

She leans back and gazes into his eyes.

His own shift from bleary and stupid, to focused and lustful. The water foams around them as he grabs her hard, crushing his lips against hers. She moans and falls into his grip, and allows him to carry her over to the bank. He lays her down and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard on her curved breast as he shoves his cock unceremoniously into her. She grunts and digs her nails into his back, wrapping her legs around his waist.

He cums quickly, and makes to roll away, but she holds onto him.

He frowns, "I'm done, woman. Let me go."

She grins wickedly up at him, draws herself up and murmurs, "I'm not a woman. And I'm not done." A long pink tongue stretches from her mouth, caressing his throat and then brushing over his lips.

He tastes something on her saliva, something vaguely like honey. At the same time, his cock feels suddenly hard again, as though it had been suddenly filled. He looks at her, his voice shaking. "Succubus!" he accuses.

She smiles, "Yes." She rolls onto her front, bent over on her hands and knees. "Does that mean you're still done?"

Beren knows this is his last chance. He can run, he can hide out in the woods.

But her body, so curved, the perfect mix of taut muscle and soft flesh, is too much. No human woman he's ever seen in his life has inspired this much fervour in him.

He takes her hard, shoving his cock into her pussy and grabbing onto her hair.

She howls like an animal, and her amber eyes burn.

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The Succubus uses him for the rest of the night. She lets him pull at her from behind until he's erupted into her, then as he marvelled at his enduring erection, she pushed him down and rode him, facing at first to make him pull at her tits. Then she turned around so he could slap and scratch at her ass and back. Every urge he had he carried out, just as he hoped.

When she grew bored of riding him, she took his cock into her mouth. She gagged and swallowed and spat all over him and showed him a level of depraved pleasure that he had never dreamed of. Every ounce of cum he had, she took into her body. It didn't matter which hole, it didn't even matter that it was cum. What mattered was his energy, and he gave it to her so willingly, and with every orgasm she felt her body growing stronger, drawing more from him. At one point, just before dawn, he had her on her side, buried to the absolute hilt in her tight ass, panting over her like a beast, spitting on her face and smearing it into her cheek. He had a brief moment of clarity, and he looked down at her, "Are you the devil."

She purred licked his own spit from her lips, and replied, "Right now? I'm your motherfucking goddess."

He came hard, deep into her hole, and she screamed up at the moon.

And he came again...

And again...