WORST SEX DEMON EVER

Feature Writer: 5thRing

Feature Title: Worst Sex Demon Ever

Published: 22.02.2023

Story Codes: Demonic

Synopsis: An unintentionally summoned sex demon brings a little chaos

Worst Sex Demon Ever

The summoning circle stopped glowing brighter and held for a moment before an explosion of smoke filled the air. After a few coughs, he realized that it wasn’t actually smoke in his lungs. There was heat but no burning smell. Still coughing, he opened his eyes and futilely attempted to wave away the … steam?

He couldn’t see anything but that gray fog except for the tiny instant of a fist flying straight at his face. Then there was darkness.

He eventually regained consciousness and became very aware of the pain in his nose. After some wincing and coddling, he then became aware of the sound of clanking nearby. He sat up to find someone rummaging through his refrigerator.

The nude person had a petite, feminine body, skin that seemed to have a bluish tint to it, and a long, fleshy tail.

Is this the demon I summoned? he wondered, very confused by the fact that … well, quite frankly, confused by just about everything. He hadn’t expected it to have actually worked, for starters, but he definitely hadn’t expected to be immediately punched out — I thought she’d be red?

“What are you looking for?” he called out.

“Meat,” she replied casually, “Fuck!”

She spun around and took a few steps toward him before continuing the angry shouting.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Her right hand pointed at him, and her left hand held a fried chicken leg.

Heh. She’s actually got horns, but they look the same as her skin. Flesh horns? And she’s bald?

In a fleeting thought, he found it an amusing site, but he thought it best not to laugh at her. She was noticeably muscular. Not beefy, but also not lithe, and he already got a taste of her strength. Kinda sexy, by his standards. Her breasts were on the small side, but very well-proportioned to her body. Very nice, smooth pussy too.

“Hey! Eyes up! Who the fuck are you?”

He wasn’t exactly educated on rules for engaging with demons, but he’d heard that if you said a demon’s name, then you had power over it. Too bad he didn’t know her name, but in that instant, he wondered if the reverse was also true, so he decided to not reveal that potentially dangerous bit of info.

“Pretty sure I’m the one that summoned you.”

“I didn’t ask that, jackass. I want your name,” she shouted.

“You first,” he dared.

For an instant a look of surprise and fear flashed across her face, then it was back to anger, although slightly less so. She turned sharply with a frustrated growl and stepped back to the open refrigerator.

“All I see is chicken. Where’s the cow?” she asked rummaging further.

“Cow is in the freezer,” he said in the process of standing up. He felt the sudden change of blood pressure in his already sensitive face. “Ouch.”

She opened the lower smaller door and paused before pulling out a steak vacuum sealed in plastic.

“Fuck,” she said and then tossed it into the nearby sink. She slammed both doors before punching the larger one several times as she shouted, “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”

“HEY!” he finally shouted back at her, “Easy,” he followed a little quieter.

She suddenly stopped, partially turned her head, and then sort of grunted, clearly not pleased by that choice. He felt a brief rush of fear. He hadn’t intended to yell at her. It just came out as a reaction to her abusing his property.

She finished the chicken leg, tossed it in the sink, and then washed and dried her hands, which he found amusingly mundane, given all that’s happened so far.

“I summoned you,” he said, trying to redirect attention, “Aren’t you supposed to grant me wishes, or something?”

“I’m not a fucking genie. I don’t magically grant wishes.”

She was still mad, but much calmer as she answered. She didn’t shout, at least.

“How the hell did you summon me? I was supposed to be unsummonable.”

She stepped over to the small kitchen table and pick up a familiar book.

“And don’t tell me you did it with this,” she held the book up, “This is bullshit. They didn’t even fucking draw it correctly,” she added, forcefully putting the book back on the table.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he said, casually walking toward her.

He was a little surprised that he was daring to, but he didn’t really get the impression that she would attack him again. Her behavior had suggested that she would like to, but something was keeping her from it.

“That book was all I had to work with,” he continued., “Maybe I somehow managed to do it right by doing it wrong.”

“Ridiculous,” she huffed.

He stopped a few feet away from her.

“What did you mean by unsummonable?”

She growled a second and then answered.

“I had a sealing sigil on me. It should have prevented anyone from summoning me. Even that shit book should have prevented you from summoning me. It’s all wrong. Everything about this is wrong.”

“How did you get a sealing sigil?”

“I had it put on myself,” she said a bit louder, “Quit asking me so many fucking questions,” she circled around him and stomped over to the living room where she paced back and forth in contemplation.

Curious, he thought, turning to watch her. She didn’t touch me. She just went around without making contact. And she didn’t look at me, either. Also, she was frustrated by me asking a question, but she still answered it.

“Why did you have a sealing sigil put on yourself,’ he tested.

“So I couldn’t be summoned. DAMN IT! Shut up! I’m trying to think.”

He decided to back off a while and just observe her. She contradicted so many of his preconceived notions about demons, in both her appearance and behavior. She wasn’t trying to seduce or bargain with him. She didn’t seem even slightly interested in his soul. She wanted nothing to do with him, in fact, but then that raised the question of why she was still there.

She chewed her thumb anxiously. Her pacing paused intermittently, presumedly needing brief moments of extra focus in her ruminations.

She seems to be completely hairless, he noticed. He tried to catch a clear glimpse at her fingers, and then her toes. No hair, no finger or toenails, and her horns are not bony. She’s entirely flesh on the outside.

This was quite odd to him, but in spite of it all, she still looked rather cute. And her body was undeniably sexy. She had a very grabbable ass, and every hard step she took gave her perky breasts a little bounce.

He imagined what it would be like to touch and hold her, and an erection wasted no time growing in his pants.

She suddenly slowed, her eyes closed halfway, and her breath became slightly labored. When her thumb was released from her mouth, a light moan followed.

Fascinating.

She regained some composure and then turned to him.

“Stop that,” she said urgently but was unable to do so angrily.

He decided to conduct another test and reached down to massage his bulge. Her eyes closed halfway again, and she whined slightly as her legs show faint signs of threatening to give way.

She’s feeling my pleasure, but it seems to be amplified for her.

“No!,” she suddenly shouted, shaking her head once and then rushing over to him.

He was distracted in thought, which allowed her to catch him off guard, so he did nothing to prevent her from kicking him right in the crotch.

They simultaneously cried out and dropped to their knees.

“What the fuck,” he winced.

Once the initial shock had passed and he had assessed his condition, he realized that it was not nearly as bad as it could have been. His boner had actually taken the brunt of the impact and spared his balls. Not all, but some.

She was on her hands and knees panting. It became clear to him why she refrained from touching him after that introductory punch.

He was normally a rather passive and forgiving guy, but in this particular moment, he was feeling a little on the revenge side, so he unfastened his pants, pushed them and his underwear down to mid-thigh, and began stroking his length.

She let out a small moan before raising her face to him. Her expression was a combination of pleasure and anger, which, at the moment, he found uniquely satisfying.

“You son of a bitch,” she said and then arose to lunge toward him.

An apparent impulse of pleasure stumbled her and she fell into him. He fell back and she landed mostly on top of him. In a moment, he felt the skin of her inner thigh against the head of his dick, and that just turned him on even more.

She moaned and grabbed at his shirt front as he furiously stroked himself until he finally ejaculated yielding a simultaneous response from her.

They both remained motionless, apart from their breathing, as acceptance of what just happened set it.

He remained still to let her act on her own when she was ready to slowly raise herself up from him. She fell back to sit on the floor in front of him looking disappointed and defeated.

There was an air of truce between them.

To his surprise, she began casually wiping his cum off her herself and the hardwood floor, and then she just straight up ate it. He noted to himself how weirdly bereft of sexiness that was at that moment.

“So, what I gather,” he finally said, “Is that you feel my physical sensations.” She made no response. “Am I right?”

“Yes,” she replied begrudgingly.

“And I’m guessing you are somehow compelled to answer any question I ask,” he added. She remained silent. “Am I right?”

“Yes,” she said with a bit more volume and anger.

She stood up and walked to the sofa to sit with her arms and legs crossed.

He wasn’t sure if it was just because she was pouting or if she was also trying her hide her body from him.

He got himself up, cleaned himself off as best he could, and secured his clothes. His apartment was small, so there was not much walking involved in bringing a dining chair into the living room. He could have easily sat next to her on the sofa, but he decided to give her the courtesy of some distance.

“Obviously, I have questions,” he eventually informed her, “And I’m obviously going to be asking them, so if you want to spare your pride, or whatever, then you might as well be cooperative in reaching the inevitable end.” He gave her a moment to let that reality settle in, and then added, “I would like to understand what is going on.”

Her eyes glanced at him with a hint of surprise that he didn’t ask a question. After a little more time, she began.

“I’m a sex demon. Humans summon us when they want easy, great sex. I stopped wanting to do that, so I had a sealing sigil put on myself to prevent me from ever being summoned. It should have been permanent,” she paused, “Like I said before, everything about this is wrong, and I don’t know why.

“Why are you still here?”

“I don’t know. I can’t teleport back, for some reason. I can’t even leave this apartment.”

“Would you normally be able to walk out?”

“Yes.”

“Is there some kind of magical barrier that’s been put up, or something?”

“No. I …” she hesitated, “When I tried to leave … it just felt wrong. I just got this overwhelming feeling that I shouldn’t.”

“Well, that is certainly curious.”

After realizing she had nothing more to add, he went to the kitchen and prepared a bowl of hot water to begin thawing the steak in the microwave. He went to the bathroom to pee and wash up before going to his room for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

In the living room, he handed the clothes to the demon.

“You can wear these.”

She hesitantly took them with one hand and rested them in her lap. He turned away to the kitchen, not seeing her bring the clothes to her nose to inhale the scent. She stood and dressed.

They were a bit oversized for her, but not by too much. She noticed that his t-shirt was snug on him, and he was lean. The shorts were loose, but the elastic was good, so they were not at risk of falling down.

In the kitchen, he turned on the stove and pan-fried the steak to the rare side of medium-rare. Too late, he realized that he didn’t know if she would have preferred it raw, so he stopped there, put it on a plate with a fork, and brought it to her.

“It’s mostly rare. I should have asked you how you wanted it, but I didn’t think to. I hope that’s alright.”

She took the plate and offered a congenial, “That’s fine,” right before he turned, she added, “Thank you.”

He just nodded his ‘you’re welcome’ and returned to the kitchen to clean up. A few periodic glances back amused him with the site of her ignoring the fork entirely and using her teeth to tear off chunks of the meat clutched in her fist. She was a bizarre mix of civil and feral.

He worked slowly to give her time to finish in relative privacy and then returned with two glasses of cold tea and absolutely no idea if she either wanted or needed it. She was licking her palm and fingers of the steak juices as he set her tea on the coffee table next to the empty plate she’d set aside.

“Do you need a —,” he started offering her a paper towel and the option to wash her hands, but then she just wiped her palm across the stomach of the shirt she wore. “Nevermind.”

When she had settled down again, he decided to continue with his inquisition.

“Why did you-,” he stopped himself abruptly, “I would like to know why you wanted to stop being a sex demon.”

She looked put out but eventually spoke up.

“I can’t stop being a sex demon any more than you can stop being a human, dumbass.”

At least she’s not yelling.

“I wanted to stop being fucking used. Most of the guys who want to fuck a demon are not exactly gentlemen. Most of us tolerate it. Some are even into it, but being treated like shit got old to me.”

She picked up the glass of tea and took a swallow before setting it back down.

“So I got myself sealed to take me off the market. It was great for a while and then …” she raised her hands gesturing to the current situation, “Here I am,” she stared at him for a few seconds, “What the hell were you doing,” she asked, turning the tables of inquisition on him, “It’s like you don’t know shit about anything.”

“I suppose I don’t,” he confessed, “I found that book hidden in the vent when I went to clean it out. I couldn’t understand the language. Since it was hand-written I figured it was just someone’s delusions. I got bored and basically played pretend for a laugh. I had absolutely no expectation of it actually working.”

He took a swallow of his own tea.

“I drew the circle as identically as I could, and I pronounced the words as best I could, but who the fuck knows how correct any of that actually was?” he paused, “Apparently I did something right.”

He gestured to her as irrefutable evidence.

She had nothing else to say. He yawned and looked at the clock seeing that it was already past four o’clock in the morning. With the excitement subsided, he calmed and realized how tired he was.

“So, you can’t leave, and I need to sleep,” he pointed out, “What about you? What are you going to do?”

She looked around the room contemplating the question.

“I’m gonna study the book some more,” she said, getting up to retrieve it from the kitchen table.

“Alright,” he said, raising to his feet, “Let me know if you need anything, then.”

“I really won’t,” she replied.

Heh heh. He smiled on his way to his bedroom.

“No jackin’ off in there,” she shouted before he closed the door.

She brought the book back to the sofa, got comfortable, and opened it up.

One thing that concerned her was the fact that she couldn’t recognize the language either. She knew every human language, but this looked like nonsense. It may have been written in a code or was a language entirely made up by the author.

The various drawings throughout the book were one’s she recognized, but there was a handful that she didn’t. One that stood out, in particular, was the sealing sigil.

Technically, it represented a bond or a barrier, depending on context. It was essentially the removal of an ability. It was a rather broad meaning, which is why specific types of bonds or barriers used more intricate versions of it.

“Fuck,” she whispered, realizing that the broadness made it more susceptible to being broken.

Her own careless choice had been her undoing. She should have chosen something more specific.

But that didn’t explain everything. She studied the summoning circle more closely and noticed that the incorporated sigils were not right. There was nothing about sex or domination. Nothing about a contract. Everything that should be there to summon a sex demon specifically was absent.

One of the sigils looked similar to the commerce sigil but less intricate. In this form, it would be more like an equal exchange or perhaps balance.

Another seemed to represent something akin to searching. Seeing all?

The one that made the greatest impression on her was still difficult to decipher but was clearly based on the sealing sigil she had placed on herself.

“Fuck,” she whispered again.

The problem with using such vague sigils is that they can be overwritten by more intricate versions. It’s like adding to a tattoo in order to turn it into something different but similar. You can add to it, but you can’t take away from it.

She had left herself vulnerable to a more specific meaning that could, and in this case, did, erase her intended one. But there was still the question of exactly what replaced it.

It wasn’t a containment sigil. She wasn’t technically imprisoned in this apartment. She was able to walk out, but she experienced that inexplicable sense that it was a mistake to do so. None of the sigils had anything to do with mind control.

This sigil’s design did not carry intent toward action, which was incredibly strange. This was targeting a preexisting bond.

“Whoever made this actually knew their shit,” she quietly acknowledged.

Turning her attention to the words in the book, she racked her brain, using her vast linguistic knowledge to attempt a translation, but nothing was making any sense.

The specific language of an invocation is typically unimportant, as all demons know all human languages, but no demon would understand this one, so who exactly was the audience? It was not human, demonic, or angelic. And if it had been nonsense, it would not have worked.

It took a few seconds for her to notice the warmth building up in her belly, then she was hit by the sudden sexual arousal. She caught herself before her hand had finished its way to her pulsing crotch.

“Oh, that asshole,” she breathed clumsily dropping the book onto the sofa cushion beside her and standing up.

She padded toward his bedroom door desperately wanting to touch herself but clutching the hem of the shirt to help her resist. She opened the door to find the lights off, and him motionless in bed.

She wanted to yell at him, but all she could manage was a low growl as she said, “Wake up, dickwad. No wet dreams either.”

He turned over under the covers and a rush of electricity dropped her to her knees. It took a few seconds for the intense pleasure to subside, but she was able to get back to her feet and pull the blanket off of his body.

That was a mistake, was her last conscious thought at the unexpected sight of his erection standing straight up in the veritable spotlight of a street lamp shining in through the partially drawn curtains.

She immediately climbed onto the bed and enveloped his shaft with her mouth. She assumed a half-fetal position on her knees between his legs. One hand wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and the other furiously rubbed her clit.

The sensation and her moaning gradually brought him out of his dream, but he barely understood his situation.

“Oh, my God,” he moaned, holding her head in both of his hands while attempting to thrust his hips.

He convulsed as he came wildly into the depths of her throat, and she had her own seizure before both were left collapsed and twitching.

She held him in her mouth expertly manipulating him to aftershocks until they both eventually stopped and she rolled away from him.

“What the hell,” he asked, confused and staring wide-eyed at the dark ceiling, “That was … That was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”

She crawled up the bed and lay on her back beside him.

“Of course, it was, idiot,” she said quietly.

They both remained still and silent for about ten minutes before he got up to use the bathroom.

I guess it does make sense, he thought. If she can experience what I experience, then she would know exactly what to do.

He dabbed the urine from his tip and flushed the piece of toilet paper before washing his hands. Back in his room, he decided to put his underwear back on as a sort of courtesy.

She had gotten under the covers and was laying on her side, facing away from him, on the far side of the bed. He paused a moment to consider sleeping on the couch, but it was apparent that she had no objection to him staying in his own bed with her, so he softly climbed back in and lay on his own far side facing away from her.

The clock across from his face glared 6:34 am in red.

Good thing I don’t have work tomorrow …. Today, he corrected. He made a valiant attempt to fall back asleep, but it was ultimately futile as his every thought was of her and the situation as a whole.

When eight o’clock rolled around, he figured he might as well get up. He slipped into a pair of shorts and stared at her debating whether or not he should say anything. He turned and walked out with his decision to leave her be.

He felt a bit aimless. He normally didn’t eat breakfast, and he would just do some things on his computer for a while, but he did feel a little hungry, but he didn’t know if she would want anything to eat. He fried a couple of eggs for himself but decided to not cook anything for her just yet.

He sat at the kitchen table to ponderously eat. As he was on his last few bites, she appeared from the doorway looking somewhat depressed.

“You like eggs?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ll cook you some if you —”

“I don’t want any fucking eggs,” she said in a manner that at least matched her mood, if not her choice of words.

He thought better of pressing the issue, but he felt bad seeing her this way. She dispassionately sat down on the sofa and picked the book up to study it further.

“Learn anything?” he asked, getting up to clean his dishes.

She let out an exasperated sigh, set the book on the coffee table, and lay down on the sofa with her arm across her forehead.

“Some. I guess. Whoever wrote this actually designed a new, functional summoning circle. I’m not sure exactly what it was meant to summon, or why it was me, and I can’t identify the language, but it’s apparently real.”

He finished cleaning in brief silence and then made his way to the chair that he had brought into the living room. He sat down and then she continued.

“The sigils used are not common ones. I mean, they’re not commonly used at all, never mind in a summoning circle. It’s like writing a sentence using only synonyms for the words you mean to use, so the sentence doesn’t make any sense as it is, but it would if you already understood the essence or context.”

“Kind of like interpreting a poem? Or a haiku?”

“I suppose, in a sense.”

“Maybe you’re being too academic about it, then.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” she asked with a slightly annoyed glance.

“Maybe, right now, you need to try to just understand the essence, as you said. Don’t worry so much about what it specifically means, and just let an impression formulate in your blank mind. What does it … feel like the person was hoping to accomplish?”

She closed her eyes and refreshed her memory of what she had thought about before, and then the nature of summoning. She slowly let all of that melt together, so to speak, into an idea.

“Wanting … to … find … unity.” She opened her eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling. “I think the person was …”

She stopped as she suddenly tried to factor herself into the equation.

They didn’t summon me, she realized. The person who designed it did not summon me. If they succeeded, then they summoned someone else. That means … what that guy wanted … I am for this guy.

She closed her eyes again.

This guy didn’t know what the hell he was doing. He did not … choose me. I was just the appropriate choice.

She felt something at the corner of her eye, so she brushed her finger across it to get rid of it. To her surprise, it was wet. She opened her eyes and sat up as she wiped more.

“What the fuck?” she asked in shock and confusion, “What the fucking hell?”

She rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

He stood up quickly and walked about half the distance, but halted, unsure of what to actually do.

“Tears?” she asked nothing or anything as she looked back and forth between her wet fingers and her eyes in the mirror. “Fucking tears?”

She wasn’t crying, at least not in the typical sense, but there was definitely water coming out of her eyes.

“I don’t cry,” she growled to her own reflection. Her furrowed brow looked fairly convincing, “I don’t fucking cry. You don’t fucking cry,” she almost shouted at her reflection.

“Are you okay?” she heard him say through the door, and that enraged her.

She threw open the door and shoved him away with impressive strength, sending him flying backward several feet before landing on his back in the area between the living room and kitchen.

“No!” she shouted, “I’m not fucking okay!” She hurried to kneel over him and pummel his head and torso with her fists, “Don’t ask me if I’m fucking okay, when I’m obviously not fucking okay, you fucking dumbass bastard! I don’t cry!”

He managed to protect his face, for the most part. The impacts hurt, but were suspiciously bearable, all things considered. She was holding back. He remembered the kick in the crotch she’d given him before. She was feeling every hit she landed on him.

He looked at her face between flying fists. Despite her continued claims, she was now quite obviously crying. He could even feel the occasional tear land on his arm and chest.

In an instant of opportunity, he quickly reached his arms around her torso, and with a combination of raising his own, and pulling hers down, he locked himself into a hug and held firm to her.

“Get the fuck off me!” she almost shrieked. She wriggled trying to escape. She grabbed at his hair and shoulders, but his closeness afforded her very little leverage with which to push him away.

“Get off me.”

She was no longer yelling.

She had slowed and her attempts to free herself were feeble. Her hands eventually fell impotently at her sides and she just sobbed.

After a moment he loosened his hold enough to show he was no longer fighting her, but his arms remained, and he adjusted his hug to something more appropriate to his feelings. He felt her arms wrap gently but firmly around his head and neck, and he felt the side of her face against his hair.

He waited until her crying had subsided to a soft weeping, then he carried her into the bedroom and lay her down. She turned away from him and curled into a fetal position. He put the cover over her and lay behind her with an arm resting across her.

She eventually fell asleep, as did he. A few hours later, he awoke to find she hadn’t moved.

She still asleep?

He carefully peeked over just enough to see that her eyes were open, and then he lay down again.

She didn’t push me away.

“He was wanting to find unity, you say?” he kept his voice soft.

She remained silent for a moment but then spoke in a similar tone.

“Something like that.”

She was confident that she knew exactly what that other guy was wanting to summon, but she still could not bring herself to say it out loud. Especially not to this guy.

“Turn over,” he said quietly.

She did nothing at first but then shifted herself to face him. He was very close and had a soft smile as he looked over her face and eyes. She stared at him tracing his index finger over her features.

She’d never felt a touch that gentle. It was so foreign that even curiosity alone would have prevented her from stopping him, but she also found it physically pleasing.

A question ran through his mind as he traced her lips.

If I tried to kiss you, would you stop me? He desperately wanted to ask her that, but then again … he didn’t.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. When there was no retaliation, he kissed.

It was the most magnificent kiss that she’d ever experienced. She was enthralled. At first so serene, but then her heart began pounding. A warmth spread throughout her body.

He rolled over her and hovered until breaking the kiss to travel it down. She felt him making a path over her chin and down her neck. He was away a moment, and then her shirt began moving up.

Her eyes open to see him lifting the shirt away. He looked into her eyes a moment, and then lowered to her once more, to continue the path across her collarbone and down the slope of her breast until her nipple stiffened beneath his tongue.

A familiar heat began to emanate from her belly, but there was something different about it. Her skin was electric against his hands, and her stomach quivered at his lips.

She gasped and a moan suddenly escaped. He somehow compelled her legs to draw up slightly and her hands to hold his head as hers tilted back.

What was this magic he was casting? Her insides felt like they were growing. Building up the pressure. She couldn’t stop making this mewling sound.

It felt like her brain and body were on fire, and she wanted to cry out, but for a moment everything was halted and then released. She could finally let out that cry as she expanded to fill the universe.

She gasped for breath as her eyes opened wide with the feel of waves subsiding within her.

“What was that?” she breathed.

He moved up to meet her eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“What was that?” she repeated, “What did you do?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”

He was thoroughly confused.

“You’ve never experienced … an orgasm before? I’m pretty sure you have. Probably many, I’m guessing.”

“Never like that.”

It took a moment for the realization to set in for him.

“Wait,” he said, “You’ve never experienced your own orgasm, have you?”

“My … my own?”

She reached down in search of his crotch and grabbed a decidedly not hard mass.

“Ach! Watch it. Jeez.”

She noted the fact that his shorts were still on, but she felt none on herself.

“When did you take my shorts off?” she asked off-handedly, “That wasn’t your orgasm? You didn’t cum?”

He just grinned and said, “Nope. That was all you.”

“That was so much better than yours.”

“Hey, you don’t have to rub it in —”

Her lips cut him off. After a moment she broke away and left him smiling. He rolled off to her side and she hugged him.

“So much better,” she repeated into his chest.

‘I’m glad I could give that to you,’ he thought as he absentmindedly slowly stroked the back of her head.

She felt at ease in his embrace, pressed against him. The soft rhythmic sensation of his fingers on her scalp was almost hypnotic as if it were enticing her to sleep, and so she obliged.

Why does all of this feel normal? he pondered, I anticipated none of this. I summoned an actual demon, for fuck’s sake. A short, blue, bald, violent, foul-mouthed demon. But … it’s felt normal the whole time.

He tilted his head down to kiss the top of hers. She was very still apart from her shallow and steady breathing.

Is she asleep again? Jeez, it’s like she flips a switch. Must be nice.

He wasn’t tired, but he was content to remain in bed to hold her. None of his previous partners had ever snuggled up so close to him. This realization made him sad about his past, but he took joy and consolation in the fact that this made her all the more special.

After some time, his bladder convinced him to get out of bed. It was taking longer than usual to finish peeing, and perhaps only halfway through he was surprised by hands emerging from around his sides.

What the — he thought, internally startled, but then the instant he felt her body against him, he realized it was her. While I’m peeing, huh?

Her fingers slid across his abdomen but expectedly continued downward. She seemed to be deliberately delicate in moving her fingertips along the side of his scrotum and the length of his mostly flaccid dick. Although that state of it was short-lived.

Woah. Hey, now, he thought as he began to grow still in the process of peeing and causing him to adjust his posture in order to prevent making a mess.

She lightly moaned into his back and began teasing him with feather touches. Some small part of him wanted to tell her to stop, but apparently, that part was overruled.

With some increased difficulty, he finished, dabbed himself dry, then flushed the toilet, which she immediately took as a cue to fully grip him and begin stroking. She released a sigh onto the center of his back.

“I’ve got to —” he started as he turned to face her, but her hand on his shaft repositioned without ever breaking contact. The repositioning itself was a stroke that ended with her holding him underhand and continuing. He forgot what he was about to say and his eyes closed on their own for a moment.

Oh, my god. She does this so perfectly.

He opened his eyes to her hers half closed in a fog of pleasure. The sight fascinated him.

His gaze wavered and happened across precum dripping from his tip, and then a slight shift revealed a drop of her own juice had made its way down her inner thigh, almost to her knee.

He got a taste of her earlier, and though it was of only traces, the flavor was divine. It was all he could do to refrain from commenting on it when he had been licking her.

A falling drop caught his eye and he looked to the floor to find a small glistening pool. Whatever self-control he had left him.

Without regard for her grip, he dropped to his knees and buried his face in her dripping slit to drink deeply. She gasped and nearly lost balance, but grabbed the sink and his head to help stabilize.

It was a jarring sensation switch for her to experience. As a sex demon, her focus was always meant to be on her summoner’s pleasure, and she felt his amplified to maximize efficiency. It wasn’t that she was unable to experience her own, but that her own was always overshadowed and never got as much focus.

His pleasure emanated in her mind and had a psychosomatic effect on her body, but this was like a sudden reversal of that flow.

The absence of his pleasure in her mind offered a quietness that allowed her to figuratively hear her own body.

Her mouth opened but only occasional sounds came out. Her breathing was labored and erratic. Her head could not decide if it wanted to be thrown back or tilted down to him.

His ravishing tongue was soon accompanied by fingers slipping into her and stroking her walls.

“Fuuck. Yes,” she managed to utter, but his increase in speed rendered her an incoherent source of elongated whines until a cry out heralded an explosion.

Her body no longer serving her will, it convulsed beyond her control.

Slowly, that control returned to her, but she was not sure that she wanted it. She opened her eyes to his face soaked in … it wasn’t sweat. He returned his attention to her pussy, licking up the same wetness from her burning slit and her inner thighs.

Was that … from me? she asked herself.

He released her to stand on her own and arose to kiss her lips. It was a familiar taste. She tasted it countless times on countless dicks, but never this strongly and never on anyone’s lips.

She felt his warm hands wrap around her buttocks and he lifted her. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him and held him securely while he carried her into the bedroom and then lay her down.

The ability to fully relax was a sweet relief. After a few more kisses, he raised up staring into her eyes. She had no expectations. Just this sight of him was all she needed at the moment.

She raised a hand to place it on his cheek, but then she felt something push into her again. Her eyes were forced wider again as the flow of sensations seemed to crash into each other.

His pleasure in her mind reached an equilibrium with the pleasure from her body, and they both seemed to swirl throughout her being.

Every stroke of his dick pumped pleasure into her from both her mind and her body. First slowly, and then with a gradual increase, she became a whirlpool spiraling tighter and tighter until the incredible force abated, releasing the energy to dissipate of its own accord.

When she regained her awareness, it was his face above her again. He smiled, and she felt his fingertips on her cheek and jaw.

“My god, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.

EPILOGUE

He opened the front door of his apartment, stood aside, and waited to see what she would do.

She stood at the portal apprehensive. The previous sense of dread that filled her on her first attempt to leave made it feel like she was in a sort of mental prison. It felt like something outside of herself was keeping her there.

Now she was not so sure. She had a lot of reasons to believe it was her own subconscious warning her, but she still feared the possibility that she was magically trapped.

“Well?” he said, patiently.

She said nothing, and after a moment she somberly walked to the door and closed it. She turned to him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

“Some other time, maybe,” she paused, “I don’t want to go anywhere, right now.”

THE END

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.