Stranger in the Dark: An Erotic(2)

I whimpered as the cloth was pulled, gradually, from my grip. I hugged myself, clasping my arms around my naked body. I heard his grunt of lust, as I quivered against the door. I heard the warm huffs of his breath, louder now, as if he was standing inches in front of me. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it was no different – I was just as blind and vulnerable either way.

“I’m going to touch you,” he warned. I stiffened, wondering how he would seize me first. By the breast, or the hips, or perhaps just my arm or neck. But the touch landed on my cheek, light as a moth. I blinked. It was warm and smooth, the touch of skin on skin. He exhaled, slowly, and I felt his breath blowing across my face. The touch traveled down my cheek to my neck. I shivered. He crossed my collarbone, next, and the touch set my skin prickling all the way down my chest. My nipples tingled, rising rigid.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, and his voice was tense with desire.

I swallowed and ran my tongue over my lips, lifting my head obediently towards the sound of his voice. His lips brushed my lips, silken, before muscling harder against my mouth. My lower lip was pulled away, caught in a warm wet crush. He forced his kiss deeper, and I felt the wet flicker of his tongue. The flat of his firm nose pressed against my face as he kissed me.

Despite my fear, his passionate attentions kindled my lusts, setting my blood awash with surges of pleasure. He might be ugly, but he didn’t feel inhuman. I reached, tentatively, in front of me until my fingers grazed him. I felt the firm slab of his chest, throbbing with his heartbeat. And then he closed in, narrowing the distance between us until his chest was flush with my own, my breasts crushed against his ribcage. I could feel the echoes of his excited heartbeat. I slid my hand down his side, tracing the shape of him, trying to discern his form. His chest, swelling with his breaths, was broad and huge. His haunches were thick and tense with muscle, his thighs just as brawny. But still nothing abnormal, as far as I could tell.

But he couldn’t be normal. The oracle had said…

He pressed closer, and I gasped sharply as I felt the warm press of his cock. The shaft and head pressed against my stomach, thrusting against the warm flesh. As I breathed out I felt his cock twitch against my skin.

I swallowed. “You don’t feel like a…” I paused. I didn’t know what he was, and didn’t dare risk insulting him with my guesses. The oracle had mentioned wings, I remembered, so I ran my hand up to grip at his back. But he seized my wrist, suddenly, and pinned it back against the wall.

“I am your master,” he said. “That’s all you need to know.”

He gathered both of my hands and folded my wrists into his broad palm. I arched into him. The feel of him was satisfying; the darkness was so cold and void, and I craved the firm press of his body. There was no sense of emptiness with his warm flesh crushing me against the wall.

He bent, wrapped his arm beneath my thighs, and lifted me. I lay, feeling the jostling of his steps and the effortless strength of his arms. Then his arms slipped away and the satin covers were under my back. I whimpered, deprived of his touch, and the darkness loomed cold and empty again. But then he lowered himself over me, and the whole weight of him pressed me down against the slippery bedcovers.

I pulled my arm free and tried to wrap my arm around his back again, but he caught my wrist and held it down. I relaxed, letting him position me as he would. His lips crushed along the curve of my collarbone, and then slipped lower. I arched my back, offering my breasts to his ravenous lips. His mouth grasped my nipple, and I moaned, surprised by the depth of the sensation. His tongue fluttered wet against my budding nipple, and I couldn’t help but whine my pleasure.

He thrust his knee between my thighs, forcing them apart. I jumped at the warm flat touch of his palm, cupping my mound. He probed me gently, his fingers sinking between my folds and spreading my slippery nectar.

I grasped at the smooth sheets, fisting my hands in the covers but keeping my arms down obediently. His hands fondled me with a knowing touch, growing almost rough as he pinched and rolled my clit between his fingers, but eliciting only pleasure. I whimpered when his hand drew away. Then he nestled between my thighs, his legs pushing my thighs wider. He thrust his hips into me, and I felt the warm staff of his manhood again, sliding along my thigh. My cunt throbbed with a deep ache, lusting after that firm length.

“Please,” I said, wriggling my hips to rub myself against his shaft.

“Gladly,” he whispered, and plunged his cock into me. I gasped, feeling a sharp pang of pain as he broke in for the first time. But the next penetration was better, and after a few strokes I had forgotten that there was any pain at all. I slid my ankles up and hooked them around his calves, feeling his muscles flex as he drove into me. I wanted to wriggle, but the intensity of each hard thrust, the immensity of his cock stretching the walls of my cunt, kept me still. I tipped my head back into the pillow, my mouth agape, gasping for breath under the onslaught of pleasure. But his hand crept under my head, and he pulled me into him, pressing his lips to my mouth.