She felt the end of his tentacle pushing forward, stretching her opening wide as it slid inside her. Her mind wanted to rip it apart, but her body wanted it to take her hard and fast. Then she felt herself being lifted up into the air by the tentacles around her legs and arms. Once she was a few feet off the ground, the tentacle inside her began to pick up speed.
“Ah, fuck yes. Harder, you piece of shit, fuck me harder,” she cried out.
Her legs were then pulled apart wider and the tentacle between her legs moved in further. Her nipples hardened from all the pounding, and her juices flowed freely as the onslaught continued. Then with her eyes closed she could feel another tentacle moving up the back of her leg. She opened her eyes to look down and watched the second one drawing nearer to its prize. It squirted something as it approached her ass and then spread her cheeks before slipping inside her.
Candy threw her head back to enjoy this new sensation, and felt guilty for not being able to help Dale. She was hoping that he’d come to the rescue, but she had no way of knowing if he were even capable of doing so. Then the two tentacles inside her moved in time with one another, and she began to experience her first orgasm.
****
Dale was now waking up again, and looked down to see the tentacle still pinning him to the wall. He knew that he could get free, but he had to heal before he could attack otherwise he’d just die trying. He looked around as he heard Candy screaming out with pleasure. He was thankful that the demon was otherwise distracted. Then he spotted a window at the far side of the warehouse. He took hold of his sword again, took a deep breath and sliced through the tentacle with one strike. He heard the scream coming from the demon, but ignored it and hit the floor running.
The tentacle healed within seconds and turned to chase him. It was as if it had a life of its own, but long before it reached him Dale knew that he was going to make the window. He dived through it, sending shards of glass flying in all directions. When he hit the ground outside, he carried on running until he was sure that he was safe. He then ripped his shirt off to look at the wound. He had a large hole straight through his stomach. He willed it to heal, but nothing happened, and then he heard a voice behind him.
“What are you doing here, young man?” it said.
He turned to find a security guard walking towards him. He suddenly had an idea, but he was loath to try it. However, his partner was in trouble, and this was an emergency. He suddenly darted to the security guard and bit into his neck, taking a mouthful of blood as he did so. The guard fell down once Dale felt he had enough and began to crawl away whimpering. Dale spat the blood from his mouth into his hand, and then smothered it around the wound on his stomach. Sure enough, the wound started to heal faster.
****
“Even your friend has left you behind, my dear; you’re all mine now,” said the demon as he pushed his tentacles in a little deeper.
Candy let out a groan of satisfaction. She’d now climaxed three times and was heading for a fourth.
“Stop the talking and fuck me harder,” she screamed.
“You truly are a succubus, aren’t you? You’re such a slut, yet perfect in every way. It’s going to be a shame that I have to kill you,” replied the demon.
Just then, the tentacle that was holding Candy’s left leg was severed. The demon let out a scream of anguish and looked around. He couldn’t see anyone, and just as he remembered to use the sound that would stop the use of Dale’s power, the right tentacle was severed. He let the sound go, and Dale stood before him.
“You fucking insect, I’ll tear you limb from limb,” screamed the demon.
It then let go of Candy, allowing her to drop to the floor, and turned its attention onto Dale. Its tentacles began to heal, and several others came out at speed towards Dale’s position. Dale had decided to use his speed instead of just rushing in, and managed to evade every tentacle that came his way. At first, he would make out that he was on the run, and then he’d turn and attack. By doing that randomly, he managed to inflict several wounds on the demon’s appendages.
Candy was a mere memory to the demon, which was its biggest mistake. Once she was composed, she waited until it had its back to her and moved with a purpose. She jumped onto its oversized head and threw her arms around its thick neck. She squeezed as hard as she could and that got the demon’s attention. A succubus is not to be ignored. Suddenly, the tentacles were coming back and trying to shake her off. That made Dale’s decision to attack head on all the easier. He ran as fast as he could, and just as he was within five feet, he shouted for Candy to let go. She did and slid to the floor. Dale then launched himself off the floor and passed his blade straight through the demon’s neck and out the other side. Candy looked up to see the head sliding off and the rest of the body slumping to the floor.
“Are you okay?” said Dale as he helped her to get up from the floor.
“I will be. I’m sorry I wasn’t much help with this one, Dale,” she said feeling guilty.
“Don’t be, I still have a lot to learn. I’ll tell you one thing though. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I was now a vampire, we’d both have lost this one,” replied Dale.
They walked out of the warehouse to the sound of police sirens in the distance. Dale figured the security guard had phoned them. They both used their gift of intangibility as the cars pulled up, and walked straight by them.
****
Back at the hotel and after a quick shower, they sat on the bed together to talk.
“I’m not sure of our future together, but I do know one thing – it’s a pleasure to have you as my partner.”
“Thanks Candy, that means a lot to me. Incidentally, have you ever made love to a vampire?” replied Dale.
“As a matter of fact I have, but it was over seventy years ago.”
Dale threw her back onto the bed and then spread her legs, before kissing his way up her inner thigh and biting the tender skin near her pussy. He licked the blood from the end of one of his fangs and started to lick her moist pussy lips. Candy let out a squeal and spread her legs further.
This is going to be a long night, she thought.
To Sir, With Lust
By Polly J. Adams
Copyright 2013 by Polly J. Adams
They were on stage in the school auditorium. Karen stood at the piano, bent at the waist, her face pressed up hard against the polished wood and her black lace knickers discarded nearby. And... her daughter's teacher... he was on his knees behind her, his face pressed against her, his tongue making long sweeping movements starting at her clit and working up over the folds of her labia to her arse.
She stifled a groan as his tongue slid across one buttock and then moved down to drive deep into her pussy. They had to stay quiet. They had to hope that no-one wandered in to see why there were people still here.
Each time he drove his tongue deep he sucked on her pussy lips and a surge of intense pleasure flowed through her and it was all she could do not to cry out.
They shouldn't be doing this. They shouldn't be doing this here.
She should stop him, stop him now.
She knew she should.
But...
§
As soon as she had climbed out of her car in the school car park that evening, Karen had felt as if she was stepping back in time. There was something about entering a school that took her right back. She felt like she was fifteen again, late for class, school uniform dishevelled from the rush to get ready, homework not done and excuses only half-formed in her mind.
She had to force herself to snap out of it.
She was the grown-up. She was thirty-four years old. She had a respectable job. She was wearing a neat little black pencil skirt, sheer hold-ups, a tailored jacket from Coast, and a pair of Kurt Geiger stiletto slingbacks to die for.
"Come on, Gem, keep up," she said, pausing and turning to her daughter, who was hanging back several paces behind. "It's only a parent-teacher evening. What could they pos
sibly tell me about you that I don't know already?"
In the main reception there were a few family groups milling around, chatting to each other and getting directions from the Year 11 kids who had been posted here for just that purpose. Those families were another reminder for Karen that she was in this alone, a single mum: just her looking after Gemma, as it had been for the past four years since Steve had left.
To tell the truth though, even when he'd still been with them he would never have come to anything like this. In practice, Karen had been a single parent for much longer than the last four years.
She was good at it, too. And she was successful at work.
So why did the simple act of walking into a school make her feel so insignificant again?
"Mrs Carter for Science?" said a skinny blonde in crisp uniform, peering at Karen's appointment sheet.
"It's okay, thanks," said Karen. "I know where her room is. Gemma?"
§
By the time she reached the second appointment Karen was ready to hit the gin.
It was important to do this kind of thing, but in truth, Karen probably got more from reading Gemma's termly report and being friends with her on Facebook.
It was only when the fourth interview was over that her daughter suddenly seemed to come alive.
"Who is it next, then?" asked Karen.
Gemma flushed bright red and wouldn't meet her mother's look.
"It's him, isn't it? Mr Hot Hotty."
Gemma had mentioned Mr Parkes at least a hundred times in the last week or so, by Karen's reckoning. Mr Parkes did this, and Mr Parkes said that. When Mr Parkes was...
All the girls in Gemma's class fancied Mr Parkes. They called him Mr Hotty on Facebook, a pseudonym that fooled nobody.
Gemma was still red and Karen relented in her teasing. "Are you going to show me the way, then?"
For the first time this evening, Gemma rushed ahead, and Karen fought hard to suppress a big smile.
She remembered how it was at that age. Just into your teens, the world experienced through a stew of hormones. She remembered what it was like to have a crush on a teacher. More than one. She remembered Mr Valentine, in particular: tall and skinny and always ready with an easy joke and a smile for the girls. Born in Trinidad, a black teacher in deepest Surrey was still an exotic exception when Karen had been a teenager. A black teacher who snogged the girls in the school darkroom was even more the exception, if Karen's friend Holly was to be believed.
She'd had lots of adolescent fantasies about getting Mr Valentine into that darkroom!
She realised Gemma had shot even farther ahead and now she was on her own, walking along a corridor where the wood had been polished to an extra sheen in the centre by the shoes of generations of schoolkids. A row of school photos ran along one wall. Gemma would be in one of those groups, but Karen didn't pause to look.
She rounded a corner and Gemma was waiting by a door, peering into the classroom.
Mr Parkes was in there with Phil Jameson and his boy, Luke.
Karen glanced at her watch and said, "He may be hot, but he's running late."
"You think so?" said Gemma, off in a world of her own.
Karen assumed that her daughter was only responding to the first part of her comment. She looked more closely at the teacher everyone fancied. He was so young! Probably closer to Gemma's age than Karen's, which wasn't a pleasant thought. The last thing Karen needed right now was a reminder that she was a thirty-something divorcee, almost old enough to be the hot young teacher's mother.
"Don't you think he's a bit cheesy?" she said, and was rewarded with an instant glare from Gemma.
As the Jamesons left, Karen and Gemma went in and sat on plastic chairs across a desk from Mr Parkes. Closer to, Karen could see some of the attraction, if you liked that superficial boy band kind of look. He had spiky black hair, a sparse peppering of stubble, and just a hint of puppy fat still about his features. His top shirt button was undone, and his tie loosened, slightly askew, as if he had just been caught in flagrante.
Karen flashed back to Mr Valentine, and now it was her turn to feel a blush steal over her face. "Mr Parkes," she said, trying to cover up a sudden self-consciousness. "Gemma's told me all about you."
She felt another glare from her daughter without having to look.
"I don't think she's ever been so interested in History..." she added, batting her eyes. Might as well have a bit of fun, she decided.
"That's cool," said Mr Parkes. "That's ace. She's doing well. Straight As, maybe A-stars with a bit more work."
Gemma was beaming at the praise. It was all so transparent. Karen thought back to her own teens: had she and her friends been this obvious too?
"Is there anything I can do?" Karen asked, and for a moment Mr Parkes faltered.
"I... Um, well, it's just a matter of encouraging her and supporting her. Keep an eye on her home-school record so you know what she should be working on, that kind of thing would be cool."
Definitely too boy band, for Karen's liking.
"Sir, tell Mum about the project," said Gemma.
If only Gemma had been so engaged in her other interviews. Now, she clearly just wanted to keep Mr Hotty talking for as long as possible so she could surreptitiously eye him up.
"Cool," he said now. "The project. I've split the class up into groups of three or four and they're..."
Karen let his words wash over her. Boy band, but quite cute, in his own way. No harm in a bit of eye candy. She glanced at Gemma and was surprised to see she was watching her mother as much as Mr Hotty. Had she misinterpreted this? She'd thought all the comments about Mr Parkes were because Gemma fancied him, but... was she trying to set her mother up with him instead?
She realised the room had fallen silent. Mr Parkes was waiting for a response. The project... something about interviewing old relatives. Oral history, he'd called it.
Now that was a poor choice of phrase when she was so easily distracted!
He was watching her, now, maybe thinking about a bit of oral history, too.
"Thank you," she said. "That was... very useful."
"Well, as I say, any time you fancy a chat." Had he said something about having a chat? Karen had missed that.
She just smiled and nodded, and said, "That'd be... cool. Thanks again."
She didn't miss the roll of the eyes from Gemma as they walked out.
In the corridor, Gemma said, "He was chatting you up. Couldn't you see that? He's chatting you up and almost as much as asks you on a date and all you can say is 'cool'?" She rolled her eyes again and flounced off ahead of her mother.
"Hey you," said Karen. "We've got one more. You don't get off that lightly."
"Oh, Mum, I told you, didn't I. Don't you remember I told you? I'm meeting Lucy and them, and I'll see you at the car after Willy Wilson. I told you that's what I'm doing, Mum."
Before Karen even had time to protest, Gemma had turned and vanished out of a side door. Karen hesitated, on the point of going after her, then stopped herself.
She had the appointments letter in her hand. One left to do. Mr Wilson for English. Skipping that would be wrong, like bunking off a lesson.
It was the school thing again, she realised. Something about being in school that made her feel tiny, fearful of the consequences if she didn't do as the letter dictated.
She checked the room number and headed back along past Mr Parkes' room to the English department.
§
There was a family she didn't recognise in with Mr Wilson: a tired-looking woman bouncing a toddler on her knee and struggling to keep an eye on another small child who was crawling under the desks; with her was a grey-haired man who must be the father, and a surly-looking teenaged boy who sat rocking back and forth in a plastic chair.
Mr Wilson looked even more tired than the woman. He was skinny, and hunched over the desk with his hands steepled before him. He had thinning, dark hair and a wide mouth and Karen almost looked away bu
t was suddenly transfixed by his eyes as he glanced across towards the door where she waited. They were a deep hazel and there was passion in there, something deep and intense.
Karen had always been an eyes person. She believed you could tell a lot from someone's eyes: a single look could transform otherwise nondescript features and that was exactly what happened in that instant of eye contact before Mr Wilson returned his attention to the fractious family he was seeing before Karen.
She turned away, and stood looking out of a window, across the parking area to where a group of teenagers had gathered around the school gates. Gemma would be among them, she was sure, although she couldn't pick her out.
She heard the door open, and then a small child came barrelling out of the classroom, followed by the rest of his family.
Karen stepped back to let them pass, then went to stand in the doorway.
Mr Wilson was leaning back in his chair.
"Well that looked like hard work," she said, as she closed the door behind her.
"I, erm, whatever," he said. "Can't really say." He glanced down at a printout on his desk.
"Gemma's mum," said Karen, moving to sit at the chair across from him. "Am I the last of the day?"
He smiled at that, and his smile had the same effect as that look in his eye, transforming his face.
She should stop this now, this idle fantasising. It was that schoolteacher thing: Mr Valentine in the darkroom all over again. Was that an accurate memory? Holly's story of kissing him, of the way his hands had wandered over her body and his cock had been hard against her.
Taking Innocence - 12 Erotic Tales of Lost Innocence Page 18