Although I’m not a superstitious person, I had an erotic demonic experience years ago that was. To say the least, it was supernatural.  It happened during a trip with my wife to be, Veronica, to celebrate our engagement. As she came from an independently wealthy family, we were able to travel rather aimlessly around Asia for a couple of months. We choose to eventually stop in Singapore. We arrived during a hot, muggy, rainy season. Our flat was a small place located on the first floor of a building situated along a crowded market street. The noise and heat got to Veronica. On days when we weren’t out visiting the attractions, she used to pace around the apartment restlessly, drenched in sweat. She was still young and supple back then. I remember how her linen blouse used to cling to the moisture on her breasts, highlighting their shape and revealing her rosy aureola.

Unlike me, Veronica has always been a deeply religious woman, and she held fast to her strict vow to remain celibate until marriage. She was so committed to this vow that I had not yet seen her fully naked. In those days, I could only imagine her slender arms and long legs. Her full hips and ass juxtaposed against her slender waist. For now, I found contentment in her deep, wide set cobalt eyes, the raunchy odor of her armpits, and her elegant decolletage. She would sometimes kiss me with great urgency. In those moments during our trip when she appeared to be most agitated, I would stop her from pacing, place my hand on the small of her back, caress her face sensually with my other hand, and passionately kiss her full lips.

The events of this story began on one such day in Singapore just before the Chingay Parade. As Veronica stepped briskly from room to room restlessly tidying things up, I embraced her from behind and laid a series of passionate kisses along the back of her slender, swan-like neck. She turned to me, blushing, and pressed the front of her body against mine. She wore an ornate blue muslin skirt, which complemented the golden tones in her skin. As she pressed her lower body against mine, I felt the warmth of blood rushing to her pussy and, as she hadn’t shaved, I felt the subtle texture of her bush against my thighs. I pressed my hard dick, now visible through my pants, against her body.

The tension of traveling together in such close quarters without making love had gotten to us. Unable to tolerate it any longer, she knelt down and felt the along the figure of my shaft through my cotton pants. Looking down past her long, carefully braided hair and large, spacious eyes, I caught glimpses of her nipples through the ruffling fabric of her blouse as she hurriedly fumbled with my belt. Eventually, she managed to pull my belt and pants open. Cautiously, she wrapped her delicate fingers around the shaft of my cock and pulled it out so that the throbbing mushroom head faced her, pulling with it a trail of clear, thick, heavy pre-cum that remained plastered to the inside of my pants. Breathing heavily, shivering, and looking shyly at me, she rested the tip of my dick against her full, comfortable lips and inhaled its odor, followed by a deep, sensual, and moaning exhale.

Slowly and sensually, she stuck out her tongue, which was notably long and deep purple in color, today stained with the yellow of turmeric and curry from our lunch. With her tongue, she caught the pre-cum, still hot, as it fell from my dick. Then, pressing her tongue against its base, she ran it slowly and cautiously up the shaft in order to catch the remaining pre-cum that had collected there. Unable to bear the tension any longer, she stood up, pulled her panties aside, and pushed the head of my dick into her flower. It was burning inside, and I felt the muscles of her pussy urging me to push further in. Veronica moaned shallowly and looked into my eyes, grinning seductively as her delicate cheeks took on a magenta hue. However, as soon as I began to push into her, she squealed in pain and pushed me away. My cock was drenched in blood; her hymen was broken. Embarrassed, she lay down on our bed and began to cry. I laid down beside her and held her in my arms.

“We’ve broken the sacred vow!” she moaned, “One of us will encounter a demon tonight… We must part immediately!” In spite of my protests, she rushed me out the door to fend for myself for the night, instructing me to return the next day after the bad omen had passed. By that time, a full moon had risen into the sky, evoking a smoky purple halo amidst an otherwise cool black expanse. Inhaling the heavy evening air, I collected myself and began to walk aimlessly down the now curiously deserted market street. In the distance, I heard music and chanting, and decided to follow the sound.

Eventually, I stumbled upon a parade of elaborately constructed floats. Beautiful women dressed in meticulous ancient costumes strolled casually along the sidelines. A passerby informed me that this was the Chingay Parade. The neon lights, phantasmagorical costumes, and rhythmic music took me away and I began to feel as if I were lost in a dream. Eventually, a sculpture of a dragon rolled down the street on wheels. Its scales were made of diamonds and mirrors embedded in gold leaf. People in costume stood on top, chanting and throwing glitter and confetti from the sides. I don’t know why, but I felt an unfamiliar urge to go into the dragon’s mouth. As I approached this slowly moving sculpture, a thick odor emerged from its mouth carrying notes of musk and sandalwood. I had to crouch in order to fit and to avoid scratching myself against its razor teeth.

At first it was dark inside of the dragon’s mouth, but deeper into the sculpture’s body was a hole through which the moonlight wafted in, illuminating a chamber decorated with shards of jade and rose quartz. The curious, sensual, thick odor was stronger there, and I could see a faint smoke, as if incense were burning. I continued to crawl until I reached the center of this chamber.

It was even hotter in the tiny chamber than it was outside so, still on my hands and knees, I took off my shirt. As I removed my shirt, I noticed the outline of a person beneath me. Her slender, muscular legs clung together between my widely placed knees, and her rounded shoulders grazed my wrists. I was startled at first to find her there, but she looked at me in a soothing and strangely comfortable way, which put me at ease.

The dragon sculpture passed over an uneven patch of dirt, which shook the inner chamber, casting moonlight across her body. Her skin was a gray, ashen color, her eyes were yellow, and her pupils were small and intense. She smiled at me and I noticed her teeth were slightly sharper than most. As she exhaled, her breath smelled of heavy sandalwood incense. Her beauty was surreal and spacious, and I had the sensation of falling into her gaze.

“Come closer,” she whispered to me, pulling my body against hers.

“I smell the blood of a virgin, please put it inside of me!” she begged, opening my pants and pulling out my dick, which was still covered in the blood of Veronica’s broken hymen. Her skin felt strangely cold, which was shocking as it was so hot inside of the chamber. As I caressed her body, I felt her soft, wet, almost amphibian-like skin and long, elegant limbs. Her skin smelled of jasmine and, when I kissed it, tasted like papaya.

Hurriedly, she spread her pussy lips and rested the head of my dick in her opening. “More,” she begged, pressing her hands against my back and wrapping her legs firmly around my waist. I pushed my dick into her flower. In contrast to her cold, slightly damp skin, the inside of her body was almost burning and wet like hot tea. I pushed further into her and her juices spilled out and ran along my pelvis and legs.

“Yessssss….” she moaned as I pushed the head of my cock into her cervix. Unable to contain myself, I came. The semen burst from my dick and shot violently into her body. My whole body shook, and I felt as if our bodies were merging and my soul were entering hers. Our fingers intertwined and I inhaled the musky odor of her hair and neck.

Fireworks began to sound in the distance, and their lights danced along the precious stones that lined the inside of the chamber. As I regained awareness of my surroundings, I noticed that the dragon sculpture had stopped moving. I looked down and saw that the strange woman was gone. I put my clothes back on and crawled out of the sculpture. A local told me that the shooting of fireworks was a ritual intended to banish evil spirits and demons. I immediately thought of the strange woman with whom I’d just made love.

I returned to the flat as the Chingay parade came to a close. Inside, Veronica laid fast asleep. I crawled into bed next to her and closed my eyes. The next morning, Veronica woke in a splendid mood. I asked her about her broken hymen and she looked at me curiously. She had no memory of the previous night and, even more unusual, her hymen broke again on our wedding night, when we made love passionately for the first time.  I believe I laid with a Succubus at the Chingay Parade in Singapore.

THE END