A Succubus For Christmas (13 page)

BOOK: A Succubus For Christmas
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His hips sharply bucked up as he spurted another jet of semen into her hungry vagina. She swallowed it deep inside her and sucked his cock harder with her juicy pussy.

The succubus settled down over his body. She didn't need to ride him any more. Her vaginal muscles were clenched tight around his cock and milking it with steady throbs. She gently sucked on his lower lip before moving up and letting her full lips meet his in a soft kiss.

It was harder to struggle now. His limbs felt heavy as if his blood had turned to lead in his veins.
His back arched as his cock pumped more seed into her hungry suction. His life was being pumped out with it, he realised.
The succubus stopped the kiss and looked down at him with her limitless abyssal eyes, her exquisite face hovering just above his.

“It was very foolish of you to attempt to fight me,” she said. “In the most secret part of their hearts all men would rather fuck me than fight me. That part always wins.”

But he was the big bad…

Carpenter's hips bucked again as another orgasm rolled through his body.

“Your body is mine. Now enjoy the pleasure as my pussy drains you dry.” The succubus leaned down and pressed her warm lips against his.

Carpenter's struggles grew weaker until they ceased altogether. Struggling required energy and activity. It was much easier to lay back in bliss while the succubus kissed him, her warm body lying on top of his, a soft bed undulating beneath him.

The succubus enfolded him in her wings. Carpenter's body twitched and jerked as the pleasure of orgasm after orgasm pushed all other thoughts from his mind. Within her embrace the succubus's pussy sucked and sucked and sucked, until there was nothing left to suck any more.

* * * *

The abbot and the abbot's assistant listened outside the door.
“It's gone very quiet,” the abbot's assistant said. “Do you think…?”
He jumped back in alarm as the succubus walked out through the door. She glowed with a beauty that was both radiant and perverse.
“That was quite the dumbest demon slayer I've ever fought,” she said. “Very tasty though,” she added, rubbing her flat stomach.
The abbot's assistant quavered in fear as he tried to back away from the demon.
“There's no need to be afraid,” the succubus chuckled. “I'm too full to bother any of you monks tonight.”
She blew the two monks a kiss and sashayed off down the corridor.

* * * *

“What do we do?” the abbot's assistant asked as they looked down at Carpenter's body. Like all the others the corpse looked wizened as if it had been mummified centuries ago.

Why did they always have to have that ecstatic smile on their face? the abbot thought. It was most disturbing.

“We ask for more help,” the abbot replied. “I hear there's a girl up in Sunnydale…”

 

Arachne's Web

Gordon Yates first saw Arachne on a porn site.

Well it wasn't a porn site, not exactly. Gordon had been surfing for porn, but Arachne's Web, where he'd ended up, was just a fetish site. No cocks, no pussies, nothing hardcore; just lots of pictures of attractive models wearing exotic leather or rubber outfits.

Or in this case just one attractive model: Arachne.

Normally Gordon would have clicked straight on in search of more explicit territories, but there was something about this model that held his interest. He couldn't put his finger on what it was.

She was attractive, very much so, but so were many of the other girls that modelled for the internet.

She had big boobs and lovely long legs, but again so did a lot of other models.

What was it about her that fascinated him? It niggled at him like an annoying insect buzzing in the folds of his brain. So much so he found himself going back over her pictures again in order to pinpoint the source of his captivation.

In the first series she wore a tight black latex catsuit. The material hugged the luscious swell of her ass so tightly it looked as if it had been painted on. The rubber gleamed as she prowled on all fours amongst the dusty pews of an old church.

The next set of photographs showed her posing next to a large organ, presumably in the same abandoned church. She wore a long black latex dress that was completely open at the back apart from a line of tight straps running down the back of her body.

The church was a common theme. The next set of pictures showed her down in one of the mausoleums. She sat on an old tomb surrounded by the silky white strands of ancient cobwebs. In these pictures she wore a black fishnet bodystocking. Her pale skin was clearly visible through the gaps. The largest gap was at her crotch, but although Gordon was eager to catch a glimpse of her naked pussy, that treasure was artfully hidden.

What was it about her?

She was really beautiful. Her long black hair framed an elegant face with high cheekbones. Her face had a regal quality to it, like that of a fairytale queen or aristocrat. That classical beauty was combined with the wanton lasciviousness of a glamour model. Her lips, puffed up and crimson red, screamed, “Kiss me!” Her boobs, voluptuous and ripe, screamed, “Squeeze me!”

It was more than that.

Maybe it was her eyes. They were green and bright and stared straight back at the camera as if she was staring right out of the screen at him. They twinkled with the promise of clandestine desires.

“Gordon, dinner!” June, his wife, called from downstairs.

“Coming,” Gordon called back.

Yes, it was definitely those eyes. They captivated him. He stared into the screen, stared directly into Arachne's green eyes as she posed seductively in a black and red corset. He wondered what it would be like to be there in person, to be the sole recipient of that seductive gaze. He wondered what it would be like to feel those breasts pressed against his body, what it would be like to slip his–

“Gordon!”
“Coming,” he shouted back.
He cleared the recent history from the browser and walked downstairs.
“How did the job search go?” June asked. She was standing by the oven and ladling casserole out onto plates.

“Not so well,” Gordon replied. “There's not much out there for a software developer at the moment. It's hard to compete when there are plenty of kids straight out of college in India and China that can do the work for a fraction of the price.”

He sat at the table next to his daughter, Carol.

“I'm sure it will pick up soon dear,” June said, putting a plate down in front of him. “We've still got my job and our savings can keep us going for a while.”

The casserole was delicious as always. June was a really good cook. Even after both marriage and childbirth she still kept herself in great shape. He was lucky to have her.

Yes, he was a lucky man. He had a beautiful blonde wife and a beautiful blonde daughter.

So why did he feel he was missing out on something?

* * * *

That night, after his wife had fallen asleep, Gordon went back online. He surfed through escort sites, absorbing the salacious wares on offer. Some of the girls were really attractive. Their eyes gleamed with filthy promise.

He wondered what it would be like. It was curiosity more than anything. June was the first and only woman he'd ever had sex with. What would it be like to ring one of those numbers and arrange a secret assignation at a little out of the way motel?

Tacky, probably.

The thought of being alone in a room with a highly experienced hooker sent a throb of arousal surging to his groin. The things she could teach him...

No. It was dirty and nasty, and in all of the bad ways. He could end up being robbed or catching something foul.

What if they were more high class...

He flicked through a succession of pages showing perfectly sculpted blondes and brunettes. They stared out at him with teasing eyes.

What would it be like? A romantic dinner, room at a five star hotel and then...

He felt the constriction of his underwear as his erection strained against it.

It was all wishful thinking. He could never afford it and he loved his wife too much in any case. She was the only woman for him. This was boredom, idle fantasy.

He found his way back to Arachne's web. Again he lingered, captivated by the tall model with the midnight-black hair and glittering green eyes. He sat there, lit only by the sickly glow of the monitor as he shuffled through her pictures. He wasn't even aware his hand had crept down into his lap until he caught himself stroking his erect cock.

What was he doing?

He stopped and glanced guiltily over at the door to the main bedroom, almost expecting to see his wife looking at him with an aghast look on her face.

The clock on the desk displayed three a.m. in red digits.
Was it really that late? Gordon thought.
He shut the computer down and crept back to bed. The afterimage of Arachne's green eyes continued to burn in his mind.

* * * *

Gordon was dreaming.

The world around him was soft and unfocused, as if he was looking out through a layer of gauze or fine silk. He stood in a chamber with thick stone walls. The walls, floor and ceiling were festooned with cobwebs. The room looked familiar to him, like he'd seen it before.

Of course. He had seen it. It was the mausoleum from Arachne's pictures.
Then did that mean...
Gordon's heart quickened in his chest. She was here.

Arachne sat on a squat rectangular block of stone towards the far end of the room. She was dressed in a tight black and red corset. Scarlet laces criss-crossed above her hourglass-shaped midriff. Below the waist she wore a short black leather skirt that was barely longer than a belt. Her black leather boots went up to her thighs and were laced up with bright scarlet laces. A matching pair of black gloves extended past her elbows.

She posed as if she was on a photoshoot. She leaned back on the tomb, her midnight-black hair cascading behind her upturned head, her full breasts pushed upwards and outwards. There was no camera though, or anyone else that he could see. Did that mean she was posing for...

...him?

A thrill of excitement ran through him.

Though the room looked like a crypt or mausoleum, it wasn't as forbidding as Gordon might have expected. The far side of the room was lit up by a pair of exotic gold candelabra. In their soft light the many cobwebs looked like the expensive silk hangings of an opulent boudoir. The air, far from being dusty or musty, was clear and seasoned with traces of a delicate perfume. Air currents, pleasantly cool, tickled across his naked skin.

He was naked.
Arachne turned her head and fixed Gordon with her vivid green eyes. Her sumptuous red lips curled upwards in a sultry smile.
“What little fly has wandered into my parlour,” she said, her voice as seductive and smooth as molten silk.

Gordon's heart beat faster as she turned to him and spread her long legs wide. Beneath her skirt she wore no underwear and the hairless slit of her sex was presented to him in all its glory. He licked his lips in nervous anticipation.

“Come closer, little fly,” Arachne said, beckoning to him.

He watched her suck on a finger before inserting it between the fleshy folds of her pussy. He saw a glimpse of her most secret pink flesh as she worked her finger up and down.

“Come closer and taste my honey,” she sighed, her voice husky with desire.

Gordon stepped forward.

He encountered a curtain of silk, so gossamer thin as to be almost transparent. Impatiently he brushed it aside, eager to be with her. That curtain was followed by another, and then another, each stronger than they appeared. The silk clung to his arms and chest and pulled against his naked skin as he tried to force his way through.

Beyond the webs Arachne awaited him, the glistening pink folds of her sex spread between her fingers. Her green eyes burned with desire.

He would not be denied.

Gordon continued to walk forwards, but the way was getting harder and harder. More and more layers of silk adhered to his body and, though it looked as light as gossamer, he couldn't break through no matter how hard he pushed. His advance slowed then stopped completely as the glimmering strands held him back. He twisted his body to try and struggle through and succeeded only in overbalancing. He toppled forwards and couldn't even fall as the silk took his weight and supported him.

Trapped now, Gordon thrashed from side to side in an attempt to break free. He only managed to entangle himself further, wrapping his body in more of the delicate but unbreakable silk.

“Oh my poor fly, you appear to be all tangled up in my web,” Arachne said.

She swung her legs down onto the floor and walked over. Her closeness was maddening to him. He could feel the warmth of her body heat. The scent of her arousal teased his nostrils, driving his desires into a frenzy.

She smiled with amusement at his fruitless struggles. She licked her lips and then slowly began to undo the laces of her corset. She pulled the top down and the lush, milky-white globes of her breasts bounced free.

Gordon whimpered with frustration. The creamy swell of her breasts were close enough to touch and as much as he wanted to run his hands over her smooth skin, the cruel silk gave him no freedom at all.

Still with a teasing smile on her lips, Arachne raised her hands and slowly pirouetted in front of him. Her smooth white skin, her lush curves, all so tantalisingly close and yet unreachable. His cock swelled to full erection, both stimulated and constricted by the layers of silk wrapped around his body.

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