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“So beautiful,” he says again and buries his face between my thighs.
“Oh god!”
No one has ever touched me while I was dressed as Mattie, let alone swallowed my cock like he could suck out my insides through it. How his fangs aren’t pricking me while he does it, I have no idea. I can feel his forked tongue teasing my slit the same way it had my hole, and how it looks to watch him with my skirt and corset still on me is mesmerizing.
“Yes! Yes!”
Something tickles my hole too, like licks and little presses inside just past the breach. It can’t be his tongue and doesn’t feel like claw tips.
His tail again.
“Fuck.” I start to rock, fucking his face and urging his tail to move deeper inside me. Its end isn’t as thick as a cock, but I wonder how far it can penetrate and how much thicker it would get as it did. “Yes… please…”
His outstretched wings make me feel enveloped and safe, while he sucks and sucks and slips one of the tips of his forked tongue inside my slit. His tail rams upward in the same instant and finds my prostate.
“F-fuck!”
I’m going to come. It’s been too long, and I am definitely going to come down his throat. I try to warn him, groping for his hair and whimpering, unable to form words anymore. I find his horns instead. They really are gold, gleaming and smooth like gilded bone.
His tail and tongue penetrate me at both ends again and again, spearing me in unison, and when I think I might scream so loud that I’d bring more of the stones down around us, I come, humping his face with aftershock shuddering.
He growls and licks me and swallows my release as if I fed him a last meal. First meal? First in a long time, just like me.
I have never come that hard before. I feel boneless and heavy. His tongue and tail slip out of me, but he doesn’t pull away. He looks up and licks more of the remnants of cum from my shaft, his handsome and strange purple-black face staring at me from between the contrast of my white thighs.
“Yes,” he says, almost like a purr. “You are a worthy beauty to serve. So much passion. So much desire to be nurtured and explored. Please, please, accept my amulet, accept my contract, and I will serve you, always.”
The pendant. Amulet. I’d forgotten it and glance at where it fell. “But… there has to be a downside, a trick to this, a catch. There is always a catch.”
His claws rake up my thighs, keeping my skirt hiked with my still half-hard cock bobbing close to his face. His tongue slithers out to lick its tip. “Keep me fed, beautiful one, and my lone goals will be to grant your wishes and sate your every desire. Do you accept me?”
Wishes? He said djinn, a genie, just with an amulet instead of a lamp.
He looks toward where the amulet gleams out of reach. I must be out of my mind, all blood having rushed elsewhere, and all sense having been sucked down his throat, because again, I answer, “Yes.”
The weight of the amulet on my chest startles me. Neither of us reached for it, it’s just on me, and as the purple stone glows as bright as his eyes, his chains snap and disintegrate.
I really hope I don’t come to regret this.
“Jeffrey! Are you still down here?”
Shit. “Y-yes, Mr. Bevilaqua! I’ll be right there!” I scoot out from beneath the incubus and try to make myself presentable, pulling up my bloomers and thankful that he licked up and swallowed most of the mess.
“A client?” he asks.
“What? No!” I hiss back. “He owns the building. I’ll explain later, just… stay here.”
“Whatever you command, beautiful one.”
He gets to his feet as I do, and wow, he is really hot. And really tall. Like, College Boy was cute, but this incubus is smoldering, and every possible gargoyle fantasy come to life that someone might have, of the cartoon or other variety.
I leave him in the alcove, trusting my new… let’s say companion, to behave himself and do as I said, and rush out to cut off any chance of Mr. B discovering there really was an incubus living in the walls. The stories are real, and I just agreed to a contract with him.
I agreed to a contract with him! What does that even mean?
“Jeffrey! Goodness!”
I nearly bowl Mr. Bevilaqua over, having blindly cut to the stairs. Hopefully, how red in the face I am just looks like I’m still angry.
