by Cameo Brown
“You think too much. Open yourself to me,” he coaxed, sliding his finger deeper inside her. “I’m going to finger-fuck you.”
Despite her determination to resist him and any of his ideas, what he said had merit. She’d seen it before -- rich people getting off with a slap on the wrist, if anything.
Her only way to Ginny appeared to be the gorgeous, if not homicidal, delusion with his fingers working magic in her aching pussy.
Mayor Sam didn’t mess around; he went right for the treasure. In deep, then out again, he slowly, excruciatingly, penetrated her, inciting her juices and using them to slicken her cunt. Her clit begged for attention. It swelled and he flicked it, grunting in approval at her subsequent gasp.
With both hands, he tore off her panties, their rip most satisfying. Why had she worn panties anyway? He yanked her skirt off, leaving her fully exposed and panting in a dark jail cell beside a dead body.
A dead body. She’d been taken in some weird places and by some fairly weird guys, but this beat all. She turned her head away and whispered, “Could you, um…”
“I’m going to tongue-fuck your nice, wet cunt, Gracie, and when you open your eyes again, she’ll be gone.”
Warmth flowed through her limbs as his tongue touched her hardened clit, and waves of pleasure ebbed and crested from her pussy outward, carrying her on an ocean of wild sensation. He sucked on it hard, his fingers, two now, exploring her depths, filling her. She moaned, lifting her hips, and he nipped her clit.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered into her cunt, the tickle of his hot breath testing her control. She wanted to come so badly.
Gracie lifted her eyelids and found Katherine’s body gone. She found everything gone, in fact. She now lay naked, her hair splaying free, on a large white marble bench, not a dirty jail floor, and a dozen or so handsome men stood on either side of her, naked and magnificent. Like Greek statues come to life, but with skin the color of a scorched sunrise, they rivaled any sculpture Gracie had ever seen.
An earthen floor supported them and rocky walls contained their activities, hiding them from the outside world, wherever or whatever that was. Despite the cave-like appearance, harsh light bathed the room in its glare. Mayor Sam gave her a wicked grin when he noticed her searching for the source of the brightness. “All the better to see you with, my dear,” he said from the end of the bench, his grin exposing sharp, glistening fangs.
He licked his lips, growling as if he wanted to devour her, and her body tingled from head to toe. She’d never been so turned on before in her life. She clutched the sides of the bench, her breathing ragged, her pussy fluttering with need.
Mayor Sam positioned himself between her legs, the tip of his cock teasing open her sex. With his fingertip, he traced a path from her navel to her cunt. He found her nub and stroked it until she moaned.
“I’m going to come,” Gracie said, a note of desperation in her words. “Please…”
She didn’t know why, but she suddenly wanted him in her when she climaxed.
Mayor Sam bent and kissed her pussy, and she shuddered.
“Hold her legs while I fuck her,” Mayor Sam commanded, and two of the men grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide. He directed two others to hold her wrists above her head and two others to suck her nipples. “Suck them hard. I want her to feel everything. Renardo, get your cock ready. She’s going to suck you off as she comes.”
Aah, there we go. The last piece of the puzzle fell into place. No man could know her desires so well unless he came from a dream world, a world based in her
subconscious and filled with the darker fantasies she enjoyed when she used her vibrator.
No one knew about her penchant for submission or her need to suck when she came. Nor did anyone know of her need to be watched. No one except her demon lover, one she must have conjured straight from her own personal hell. Was she really this demented? One of the men drew a taut nipple into his mouth, suckling it, and suddenly it didn’t matter. “May I call you Sam?” she asked, her voice breathless and wispy.
“Please do, Gracie.” He said her name with such reverence and care, and it was so not what she would have expected. But the thought of his admiration soon drifted away as the two men attended to her nipples with such force she almost came from the sheer pleasure of their wet mouths on the pebbled tips of her breasts.
Sam used his cock to massage her as she writhed, eyes closed, entranced by the sensations as her body begged for release. He rubbed and stretched her, and she gave in to the passion bubbling up inside her, from where she didn’t dare question.
The swollen head of his cock dipped into her slick cunt, so wet and ready for satisfaction, ready to connect to the most primal urges that made her a woman. She tried to lift her hips, to force him deep inside, but he moved away and spoke with a growl. “Open your eyes, Gracie,” Sam ordered.
She obeyed. Sam’s clothes, or what remained of them, had disappeared, and he hovered at the end of the bench, his cock fully erect and dripping. Gracie blinked. Well-endowed was an understatement.
“I want you to see what you do to me, and what I’m going to put inside you.” He stroked himself, his hard length pulsing. “I’m going to enjoy fucking that pussy of yours, my dear Gracie. With my tongue and my cock. Feel free to scream my name when you come.”
Her pussy spasmed, rebelling against the emptiness, and he dropped to his knees and filled her with his rough tongue. She thrashed in ecstasy, enjoying the way the men gently but firmly held her limbs. Secure wasn’t something she’d felt in a long time, but she was secure in the knowledge Sam knew how to please her and that he would.
Time slowed. Her ragged breathing mixed with the noises the men made -- small little noises in their throats revealing their true level of interest in the activities. She inhaled the smell of raw sex and peered down her body, watching her demon lover pleasing her. The view intensified the tension coiling in her pussy -- the sight of his head between her legs and feel of the way his saliva bathed her softest parts in its own special kind of dampness.
The men watched her being thoroughly fucked and enjoying it, observing as if from a distance, yet so much a part of the act. The flickers of desire and admiration burning in their eyes hurried her impending release. “Yes, harder. I’m… oh, Sam, harder,” Gracie begged.
The first waves of her orgasm threatened, and Sam shooed the men at her breasts away. He signaled for Renardo to straddle her face, and he climbed beside her on the bench, the beautiful man’s large cock dangling just inches from her mouth.
Sam lifted a droplet from the tip of his own throbbing shaft and daubed it across her lips. With great care, he opened her mouth with his finger, swiping his flavor across her tongue. It tasted of fine spicy mead, and she clamped down on his fingertip, sucking with abandon. Sam laughed, an ornery sound, and tugged his finger away.
“Such an eager girl, aren’t you?” he said, and maneuvered Renardo’s cock down her throat.
Without hesitation, she sucked. Renardo moaned, and the idea of pleasuring a man released a fresh gush of moisture from her cunt. Gracie let the sensations take her away. She must have died and gone to heaven.
* * *
The time had come to take his pleasure, to find a way to quench the fire burning in what passed for his soul, and his body hummed. It’d been eons since he’d been so titillated, if he ever had been. He’d never met anyone, man or woman, quite as responsive as Gracie.
Sam rubbed the inside of Gracie’s raised thighs, and her pussy pulsed, glistening at him, her heat inviting him in. He positioned his hands under her ass. Steadying her,
with the tip of his cock at her opening, he leaned into her more and more as her tightness accepted each increment of his length.
Shots of electricity surged through his thick ichor and he let go of his control, his wings expanding and flapping erratically behind him. With a groan, he drove into her, filling her to the balls, her cry of joy urging him onward. He responded by immediately hump
ing her, thrusting fast and hard and pounding himself into her pussy.
Her cries vibrated around the cock in her mouth as she sucked. Watching her being fucked from both ends thrilled him. Renardo maintained a slow rhythm, pumping lightly up and down in her throat while Sam slammed himself into her tightness, a growl emanating from his chest.
Sam resisted his orgasm, determined to enjoy the lively human woman delighting in his carnal attentions for as long as possible. When had he last caressed such smooth, silky flesh, felt such tightness sucking his cock deeper into its velvet walls? He slowed his rhythm, reveling in the way their hips danced against each other with the help of her juices.
The sound of their bodies colliding and the feral noises of the other men, all erect and suffering by now, produced a surge of pride. Her pleading for him to take her, to make her his, pleased him. The way they fit together pleased him. Strange emotions startled him.
He came. Yelling her name, he exploded inside her, hot sparkles shooting through him followed by waves of unimaginable bliss. He rode her, waiting for her to come, to join him there as he spilled himself completely into her.
She did. Her body arched up and he impaled her one last time before she tensed and screamed, a long, loud cry of unadulterated satisfaction peaking and ebbing along the waves of her orgasm. Sweet, sweet music. They rocked together, milking their orgasms, until they slowed into a gentle, satisfied rhythm. Her pussy spasmed against him one final time, and a contented woman’s purr mixed with his low growl, filling the room with the quiet vibration of their spent desire.
* * *
With her breathing still unsteady, Gracie lay there, exposed, the sweat on her body chilling her. The nude attendants disappeared, leaving her alone with Sam, who appeared to be as awash in emotion as she felt. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the tears, but they trickled down her cheeks anyway. She laid her forearm across her forehead. Damn him for making her feel alive again, for breaking through the numbness. Damn him!
Sam retracted his wings and crawled beside her. He gathered her into his arms, rolling her onto his massive, muscular chest. Stroking her hair and cheek, he settled her beside him and then drifted off to sleep.
Gracie let her gaze wander over her dream lover, amazed that someone so oddly ugly could be so incredibly handsome at the same time. She longed to touch his horns, to play with his tail. Where she imagined this creation from, she had no idea. Those magnificent wings -- the ones he’d unfurled just before she came -- how she wanted to feel the filmy skin stretched across their fragile bone structure.
Instead, she settled for caressing the stiff, sparse black hairs scattered across his torso. Desire stirred again, and she stiffened. No more of this! She had to get back to reality. Back to searching for Ginny. Back to her tepid, methodical life in New York.
She had no time for dreams and fanciful notions, and Ginny didn’t either. With that perfectly rational thought, she unwound herself from Sam, who slept like the dead, climbed from the bench, and, like so many other times in her life, she walked away before she got too involved.
Chapter Five
Consciousness returned with a jolt. Sam opened his eyes and roared loud enough to shake the walls of his cave, the realization Gracie no longer lay beside him stunning and instant and very unpleasant.
He’d not meant to fall asleep. He rarely ever slept, but she’d worn him out. The intensity of their coupling had drained him, and now her leaving angered him. Where did she think she’d go in a village of damned souls? Just because she didn’t qualify for sacrifice didn’t guarantee her safety among the townspeople.
They hadn’t been sentenced to a town of the damned just for jaywalking or spitting on the sidewalk. They were psychopaths to begin with, and those that had any redeeming qualities found them extinguished by years of existing with the lost souls inhabiting Wayland. For such an intelligent girl, she’d just made a miscalculation that could end her life.
And drive him mad. But what of it? So what if he went mad like some of his demon brethren and wreaked havoc on the human world? Why not enjoy a little entertainment? As a completely disgraceful species, they deserved it, so said forefather Cronus. At least most of them. The others were different degrees of Gracie, his Gracie.
His chest tightened. If he’d had a heart, it would have ached, but his design only included muscle, sinew, ichor and bone, and nothing else that could make him vulnerable like a human. Truly nothing did, until now. The weight of an eternity alone crushed him, and Gracie’s betrayal irked him. Yet thoughts of her small, round breasts and her lips, which he had yet to fully explore, brought his tired cock back to attention.
He should let her suffer her fate for leaving him, but something inside him trembled at the thought -- at the idea he’d never touch her or taste her again, or hear her voice calling his name. What would a life with her by his side be like? Worse, what would a life without her be like?
A life. At such a thought, a wave of sorrow like he’d never experienced before washed over him. He had to find her and take her blood, making her his for eternity, before one of his citizens did something very, very bad to her and she was lost to him.
Forever.
* * *
Gracie never broke the law, but circumstances and her race against time dictated her actions. Thank heavens some people still hung their laundry out to dry. She grabbed a light blue cotton sundress and slipped into it.
The sleeveless top strained to contain her bosoms, small as they were, but she stretched the material and fitted the buttons to their holes as best she could. No other options availed themselves, unless she wanted to try overalls made for someone much wider and shorter, but those would probably lead to an arrest for indecency, as if she hadn’t been indecent enough already.
She snuck out of the backyard she’d just used for a dressing room and glanced around. She saw no one. As a matter of fact, the streets had remained deserted since she wandered out of Sam’s cave, which had turned into a large stone building boasting the name “City Hall” after she left it. This dream just kept getting weirder and weirder.
Now she hurried through the empty street, searching for transportation. She’d stolen a dress, and now planned on stealing a car. But what the hell, it was a dream, wasn’t it?
“Can I help you, maaa’um?”
A clean-cut young man in work pants and a flannel shirt materialized so close to her she bumped into him with an oomph. He gripped her arms with hands much stronger than they appeared. “Ouch, you’re hurting me.” She grunted, attempting to wriggle away. His eyes glowed red and his grip tightened.
“Oh, I’m gonna do more than hurt ya,” he threatened with a toothless, wicked grin. “I’m gonna fuck ya, then kill ya.”
Gracie’s temper suppressed her initial shock long enough for her to take action.
She stomped on his foot, kneed his groin, and caught his jaw with a solid right once she’d freed herself from his grip.
Rubbing his chin, he laughed at her. “That all you got, little sister?” he drawled, then slapped her face, a blow that stunned her and put her on the ground.
Her head spun, and she closed her eyes hoping to regain her sense of up and down. When she opened them again, her attacker’s head lay beside her, and two of Hark’s heads observed her, licking their lips. The third head, obviously happy to see her, licked her face.
“Wayland is not someplace you stroll around in alone, Detective Usher,” Sam, in human form, chastised, lifting her to her feet and wrapping her in his solid arms.
She’d never been so glad to see anyone in her life. “Thank you,” Gracie mumbled with effort, clinging to him. “I owe you.”
“Yes, you do.” Sam bent and stole a kiss from her so quickly she wasn’t sure it had happened until he kissed her again, slowly this time. His lips, full and warm, tasted hers, his tongue coaxing them apart to explore her mouth fully.
Something inside her gave way and she pressed into him, wrapping her arms around h
is waist. Holding him like this, being held… an inkling of incredible happiness sparkled at the edge of her awareness -- happiness like she’d known when she met William, when she’d married him and looked forward to their life together with anticipation. Happiness like she’d known when she found out she was pregnant with Chloe. Happiness like the kind that shattered the day Chloe slipped away.
She struggled in his arms, turning her face away. “No kissing!” she ordered, her hands on his chest, pushing him away. “I’ll fuck you, but don’t ever kiss me again.”
If Sam was confused, he didn’t show it. Maybe she was confused enough for both of them. His green eyes flashed a shade darker and his smile turned wicked. “So fuck me,” he consented, his voice edged with a huskiness confirming his need.
He pointed to a little park in an alcove between two buildings. So be it. Gracie was in control. She would take what she wanted and show him she didn’t need anything but sex. Perhaps if she dealt with whatever need had been niggling at her subconscious since this nutty dream began, she’d wake up sooner and get back to finding Ginny. Without another word, she grabbed his hand and yanked him toward the alcove.
“Stand right here,” Gracie instructed, pointing to an old wooden bench, and Sam did as he was bid. She fumbled with his jeans zipper while he watched in amusement, and his lopsided grin only irritated her more. His cock strained against the denim, springing free once the stubborn zipper released. Thank God demons didn’t wear underwear or she’d be here forever.
Gracie attacked the job of undressing him with renewed fervor until his jeans lay on the bench with his polo shirt, leaving the bristly black hairs on his chest fully exposed. “Sit on the bench,” Gracie commanded, and Sam again obeyed, situating himself on his discarded clothing and spreading his legs.
Gracie dropped to her knees and wrapped her hand around Sam’s engorged cock. It pulsed with life and desire, and her body responded in kind. With her thighs damp and her breasts swelling, she licked the head, relishing how the salty evidence of Sam’s excitement made her tongue tingle. She let her tongue play up and down his shaft, circling the base once before she lavished his balls with the attention they begged for.