For the third time this week I woke up sweaty, nipples stiff, heart racing, vagina brimming with ejaculate.

I flung the sheets aside and ran my hands over my naked body, trying to transfer the impressions into a sensation that could satisfy me. My pussy was soft, hot, and incredibly wet. Wasting no time on tenderness, I put both hands to work, fingering myself and playing with my clit.

The feeling was pleasant. I wasn’t looking for pleasant. As the cum dribbled out of me, my heat and urgency dissipated.

I abandoned the endeavor and lay back with a sigh.

It was later that day that I had the idea. I wrote a note and left it on my nightstand. “Please wake me up next time.” I drew a heart on the page to clarify that it was a happy request.

Nothing changed.

Another week went by. Four more times I woke up after it fucked me, and four more times I failed to achieve orgasm. I grew increasingly horny. I fucked myself to sleep with my Hitachi more than once, but the arc of my need remained consistent. Getting off on my own didn’t help.

So I went to my boyfriend, Kyle.

He didn’t take me seriously at first.

“We can role play that if you want,” he said, smirking.

“Ugh.” Who would take this seriously, though? “Can you just pretend to believe me?”

“Oh. That’s the part you want me to role play. Okay. I’ll do my best.”

I sighed, unsure how this would pan out, but I did find him more receptive.

“So you made an arrangement with some kind of sex demon—”

“An incubus.”

“Right, an incubus. And it’s fucking you in your sleep, and you’re fine with that, but you wish you were experiencing the sex?”

“You’re just repeating what I said.”

“I’m trying to clarify! Is all that correct?”

“Yes,” I said. We were fully clothed, sitting on Kyle’s bed. He was tenting a bit in his sweats, so I reached out and felt his growing boner. He had a nice dick, and a nice heart. We liked fucking each other. That had nothing to do with this. “This may sound stupid, but I want to get off with the incubus inside me. Masturbating thinking about it, even right after it happens, just doesn’t do it for me. I didn’t give my body to this thing to not get off on its visits.”

“That doesn’t sound stupid, babe.”

I squinted at Kyle, trying to discern if he meant it or if this was him pretending to believe me. Role playing. He seemed to sense my scrutiny, and doubled down.

“What can I do?” he asked.

He was achingly hard in my hand. The contagious warmth spread rapidly through the thin material of his pants, and I felt my body beginning to flush.

“First of all you can fuck me,” I said. “And when the blood returns to your head, we can brainstorm some solutions to my problem.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!”

One of Kyle’s enduring charms was that he was eternally down for sex, but in an easygoing way. He was cool with it, he was happy to do it, and my propositions always brought a coy smile to his lips.

“How do you want it?” he asked.

“Fucking quickly,” I grumbled.

It felt like I hadn’t had a cock in me in weeks. He obediently raised his butt so I could slip his sweats off, then waited as I crawled up the bed and got on my hands and knees.

“Want me to eat you?”

“Please just stick it in.”

“Alright.”

He hiked up my skirt, hooked his fingers around the waistband of my boxers. Something in my chest ached in anticipation. The fabric slid over my ass, and I felt the wetness begin to escape.

“Holy shit,” he said.

“Believe me now?”

“You’ve just been walking around with this in you all day?”

I moaned. “Please just fuck me already.”

“You’re certainly lubed up enough.” Kyle sounded impressed. The bed shifted under his weight as he inched closer to me, and then his hands were on my hips and the tip of his cock was pressing against my vulva.

“Tell me how it feels,” I breathed, voice hitching briefly as he pushed himself fully in.

His thighs met my ass, driving me forward a bit. I pushed back, grinding against him.

“It feels nice,” he said. “It always does. How is it for you?”

“Your cock is hot and hard and I like feeling full.”

He pulled back and thrust a few times, gently. I didn’t typically have issues with wetness, and we often used lubes on top of what nature gave me, but I had never fucked Kyle this wet before. He moved in and out with ease, greased by the demon’s cum. It felt amazing. He sped up. No matter the pace or angle, I felt a rush every time his cock filled me.

“It’s different,” he admitted, wonder in his tone.

“Yeah.”

I couldn’t say more. My breathing was ragged, my exhales becoming moans. My body filled with tension as Kyle sped up. My knuckles were white on his headboard. Demon cum mixed with my own juices ran down my thighs, splattered onto Kyle’s sheets. He rammed me again and again. I was so full, so wet.

I looked over my shoulder at Kyle, my vision blurring slightly. He, too, was flushed, his breathing uneven. My pussy felt good for him. This was a thought that didn’t occur to me much in my daily routine, but it sometimes occurred to me during sex, and when it did, it made me feel sexy. I was a good fuck. The thought always triggered something in me, and this time was no exception. I felt my pussy contract.

My mind flickered back to the demon. My pussy felt good for it, too. It loved fucking me. It kept coming back. It kept spending itself inside me. That extra realization, on the brink of my orgasm, deepened my pride, my joy, my pleasure.

I’d had plenty of great orgasms in my life. I’d had multiple orgasms, serial orgasms. I’d had sessions where I’d fucked myself silly for hours, coming again and again.

This was different. It was simultaneous, synchronous. Two orgasms at once.

My body flopped forward, but Kyle caught me, one arm snaked around my hips, one hand on my shoulder. He pulled me back roughly, keeping me on his cock. That set me off again.

“I’m going to add to it,” he groaned, and I came again.

And then we were still for a moment. Time stretched out impossibly. His cock had never felt so big inside me. He wasn’t thrusting, he wasn’t breathing.

I needed him to move.

Panic began to build in me. Was he okay? Was I okay? My entire body was tense, as if cramping horribly. I needed to do something, needed to move some part of myself. I felt like if I didn’t, I’d lose motion forever.

Just when I was sure I could take no more, I felt the twitch deep inside me.

The dam of tension broke. My body was my own once more, and it was still coming. Kyle was emptying himself inside me, deep as he could get, cock spasming two dozen times before he relinquished his grip on my hips. I shuddered as he slipped out of me.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered.

“You have no idea,” I said. I’d lost any means of tracking or quantifying my own pleasure.

“Was that different for you, too?” he asked.

I just laughed.

“I wonder if its cum is magical,” Kyle said.

“No way to know.”

“Pssssh.” Kyle crawled up alongside me, brushed the hair out of my face, hugged me. “We have the scientific method, babe.”

We didn’t brainstorm that night—we slept like rocks.

In the morning, we were both sore, but just looking at each other’s faces set off chain reactions of childlike giggles. It was like the first time we’d fucked, before we knew exactly what we were, or the morning after he’d brought that chick Brittany into our bed.

We didn’t brainstorm, but we did set up experiments.

When the demon fucked me, I did my best to keep its gift in my pussy until I could see Kyle. I also made sure to sleep with Kyle on days that I’d not been visited, for comparison. It was hard to claim conclusive evidence, but the demon’s ejaculate did seem to affect our sex. The more I managed to save, the better my orgasms, the more painful Kyle’s pauses before coming, the sweeter for both of us his release.

Weeks passed. The incubus visited me approximately half the nights. Though I was finding spectacular release with Kyle, I was still thirstier than ever.

Kyle found himself flagging. “You could try this with someone else,” he said.

“What, just go pick up a guy and bang him with my pussy full of demon cum?”

“Why not?”

It was a good question. I echoed it in my head. Why not? It’s not like we had illusions in monogamy. We’d been sleeping around when we started dating, and the only reason I’d eventually stopped was that I liked it better with him than with any of my other flings. For his part, he’d confided that he stopped fucking other people after the first time he’d dipped his cock into the demon’s cum.

In a way, Kyle’s suggestion was a no brainer.

For some reason, though, the idea rubbed me the wrong way. My experience with Kyle was enhanced knowing the demon’s cum was in play, knowing that he knew. And I didn’t want to go around convincing dudes on Tinder that the incubus was real.

But there was one guy besides Kyle I wanted to fuck.

“We kind of gave up on the idea for a while,” I said, “but what if we figured out a way for me to be conscious for the demon’s visits?”

“Okay,” said Kyle. “Let’s give it some thought.”

We came up with a ton of ideas, and tried most of them.

I tried lying awake all night. The incubus didn’t visit. I took sick days off work and stayed up multiple nights in a row. Nothing.

Kyle stayed over, watched me as I slept. He was supposed to hail the demon, or wake me up, or something. No demon.

We tried writing messages on my body, entreaties. We looked up satanic rituals and made salt circles around my bed. I meditated on the demon.

I even visited a handful of different mediums. They were horrified by my account and kept trying to convince me to buy an exorcism. One of them insisted, even offering to do it for free. They were really worried for me. I refused, of course. I’d made the arrangement with the incubus of my own free will. I wanted its cock deep in my pussy. I craved its cum.

My one complaint was that I only experienced these things as a fantasy after the fact.

Still, the incubus persisted in vexing me. It only ever visited if I was alone and asleep, and it never stayed or woke me.

“How exactly did you make this arrangement in the first place?”

Somehow, Kyle never asked me that question. The mediums never asked me that question. It only came up when I went to my truest confidante. Paula, my younger sister. I talked to her about everything, but somehow it took me months to broach this subject. I suppose I thought she’d finally decide I’d lost my marbles.

I also wasn’t enthused about the prospect of going into graphic detail about the seemingly magical effects of demon cum with my sister. But I managed to keep the conversation R-rated, and, instead of deriding me, Paula gave me a hug.

“I’m sorry you’ve been having a rough time of it,” she said.

“You… believe me?”

“Sis, you’ve never lied to me. And even if this story seems a bit outlandish, what does it cost me to take it at face value?”

I exhaled. “Thanks, Paula.”

“So here’s my question,” she said, drawing back. “How exactly did you make this arrangement in the first place?”

I was such a dumb bitch. How could I have forgotten? The contract was in my nightstand drawer, a single sheet of paper with both of our signatures on it. It was simple and short. I gave the incubus permission to enter my room and fuck me in my sleep. I could revoke this permission anytime, voiding the contract. There were no other stipulations.

“I need to go,” I said.

Paula didn’t let me. She pulled me into another hug. “Stay safe,” she said.

I nodded, and then I rushed home.

Kyle came over with a sharpie. I dictated as he wrote thick black letters on my belly.

“PLEASE consider the amendment”

I gave Kyle a deep kiss, and then I said good-bye. I sat down at my computer, opened Word, and began typing.

“Amendment to contract.

“A also grants B access to A’s room while A is awake.

“B respects A’s right to verbal agreements above and beyond those in this contract.”

I printed, signed, and initialed the amendment, and stapled it to the original document. I left the contract on my nightstand and placed a pen atop it. Then I went straight to bed.

I was too eager. I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned. I threw off my blanket, then I pulled it back on. I tried wearing clothes, I tried lying nude. I played with myself, felt my vulva squishy and moist with anticipation. But I couldn’t get off, and I couldn’t calm down. Dawn broke, and I cursed.

The next night, I wasn’t so unlucky. I was worn out. I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

I woke to the sound of rummaging on the nightstand.

“Are you finally here?” I asked, feeling my body heat up, my juices beginning to flow.

“Yes,” it answered.

The unmistakable click of a pen cap being replaced.

“You signed?”

“Yes.”

“Would you please fuck me now?”

“Yes.”

The room was dark. I couldn’t make out any details, but I had a sense of the thing’s extension. It was thin and tall, with a big, furry head. Something heavy swished across the floor as it moved. A tail? I didn’t care. I didn’t give a shit what it looked like or what it was. It had respected my boundaries, the letter of the contract. I trusted it.

And I wanted it.

The bed didn’t creak as it mounted me, missionary style. In fact, I barely sensed its weight at all. I spread my legs. It planted what I assumed were forearms on either side of my torso and, without any further ado, slid its cock inside me. I was ready. I’d been ready for months. My body tingled.

How had these sensations not awoken me?

“I used sleep magic to maintain our contract,” it admitted.

You can read my mind?

“Most demons can.”

So you know how I want it.

“Aren’t I already giving it to you how you want it?”

It was.

I was savoring every moment. I wrapped my legs around it, pulling it closer, feeling its leathery wings against my calves. My hands went to my breasts as the demon increased its pace.

Oh god, continue like that.

Unlike every man I’d ever fucked, the demon did not speed up at those words. It understood. Continue like that meant continue like that. I came in short order. It wasn’t a mind-blowing orgasm, not like the intense releases with Kyle. But it felt good, and the demon kept fucking me. It shifted its angle slightly, and I came again. The orgasm washed through me.

“I don’t understand,” the demon said, as I extended my arms.

“But you know what I’m thinking.”

“This would be repulsive to most humans.”

“I love sex and you’re not hurting me,” I said.

It accepted my embrace, lowering itself so that its chest was leaning against mine. I stroked its wings, its shoulders. I tightened my grip on its waist with my legs, tightened my pussy on its cock.

“What about you?” I asked, eyes closed. “Are you enjoying this?”

“It’s a little weird for me,” it admitted. “I’m not sure.”

“Do you prefer me unconscious?”

“This is just very unorthodox,” it said. “You feel great, though.”

“I know.” I squeezed again. “You like coming in me, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You know my boyfriend and I have been enjoying your gifts, right?”

“Oh, shit,” it said, straining against my arms, my legs, my pussy. It was trying to pull back. “You have a boyfriend?”

“You didn’t know?”

“The contract only allowed me access to you when you were alone,” it said, still struggling, but limply. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, why did you sign the contract?”

I shook my head. “You just said you could read my mind.”

“Only surface thoughts.”

“Well then, let’s try focusing. This is my boyfriend.” I pictured Kyle. “This is us fucking.” I centered that first night, my boxers around my knees, my skirt hiked up my ass, the demon’s cum dripping from my pussy. “Can you feel that? Can you feel his cock entering me?”

“It feels good,” breathed the demon.

“It feels good for him, too,” I moaned. Thinking about it was exciting me. The demon’s reaction to my play was exciting me. I was on the verge of a third orgasm. “Your cum is magical, I think.”

“I’m sorry,” said the demon. “I don’t think I can last.”

I shook my head again. It chuckled, groaning.

“Of course. You don’t want me to last.”

In a flash, my pussy was overflowing. The demon’s cum suffused me. I climaxed long and hard, bathing in the sensation. When I resurfaced, the demon was still there. It was sitting on the edge of the bed, tail stroking my ankle.

“That was weird,” it said. “But not bad.”

“Not bad yourself,” I joked. “Say hi once in a while.”

“Once in a while,” it agreed.

In the subsequent weeks, my libido receded to its previous level. The demon’s needs seemed to decrease, too. It visited me less frequently. Fucking me while I was awake once a week seemed to satiate it where in the past it would come by four times as often. I fucked Kyle once or twice a week on top of that, sometimes with the demon’s cum in me, sometimes without. We enjoyed it both ways, and Kyle went back to having casual hookups on the side.

It was a good arrangement.

xxxxx

As the seasons change, however, there’s a restless part of me that wants to know more about my demonic fuck buddy. I don’t even have his name. I’ve only ever seen an incomprehensible signature scribbled on the contract—which, I should note, has long been shredded.

I wonder if he’d be interested in playing with me and Kyle together?

Paula also reports that she’s had a hard time of it recently. She had a shotgun wedding, an abortion, and a divorce, all in the space of a couple months. I can’t help but wonder if a turn with my demonic friend might give my little sister a welcome distraction.

Help me decide what to do next!

THE END