Story: Infidelity free porn video

I watched as the pentagram rippled, filling with smoke. It was, to understate things, weird; it was as though the gas was trying to escape, but kept running up hard into an invisible wall. The final effect was that of a moving, writhing column of black marble, undulating in front of me.

"I command thee, demon, take a form!" I was hopeful, at the time, that my voice didn't shake, or that I sounded at least in control. The reality of the situation was that I was both too young and too inexperienced with summoning to truly be comfortable doing it for myself.

Ah well. I suppose it worked out for me in the end.

Demons are... Focused, I believe the nearest term would be, on an individual sin- more specifically, depending on rank, one of the seven deadlies. When you choose to summon a demon, you have to include in your summons the specific type of demon you want, based on what you want them for- it would not do to try to destroy someone's livelihood with rage or avarice; better, much better to use lust or pride. But then, pride demons were dangerous- if you had the ability to summon one, you would be lucky if your protective charms would be strong enough to stop their effect on you.

Sorry, tangent. I am- or was- a relatively young caller, and I had stumbled across a passage of an ancient summoning ritual which isolated a series of demons that hadn't seen the light of day for a long time. Demons- I thought- of lust, of desire.

Now, don't roll your eyes. Desire demons take far too many forms to just say mine was a succubus thing- I didn't summon them just to get my rocks off. Lust demons are the deal makers, the insidious, the Djinn. They meet us humans at crossroads, grant us wishes, fulfil our dreams. They are exactly what you want them to be. Be careful what you wish for.

All of this being said, I had controlled the summons as best I could. I had several limitations on the ability of the demon to influence my mind, and a rather clever little charm that stopped the demon from focusing on anything too strenuously- just on the off chance I did actually summon a succubus or an incubus. I will say this right here and now, though; nothing could have prepared me for who I actually got.

The smoke condensed slowly, writhing, swirling, forming an elongated diamond shape before reforming into a humanoid form. Long, flowing hair- was it brown, or scarlet? It didn't help that the smoke was still distorting the images- an hourglass shaped torso complemented by an absolutely fantastic set of breasts. I thought it relatively safe to call it a she, but at this point I was a bit distracted as the smoke truly cleared.

I was right; her hair was red. Not strawberry blonde, not metallic, but halfway between copper and rust. Her skin was so pale it glowed in the darkness, and I could see her veins delicate and intricate underneath.

Her face was a miracle of beauty; high cheekbones and a heart shaped face framing the most penetrating pale brown eyes I had ever seen. Her bone structure was fine, the sort you occasionally see in French girls, but her body.

God, her body!

She might have appeared French in terms of her delicacy, but her body was all Latin. Her breasts hung down slightly, not sagging, but these babies were just too large to fully escape the effects of gravity. They swayed with her movements, lifting, bouncing, even rippling slightly when they came in contact with her chest.

From there my eyes followed her curvature down to her hips, which flared out from the narrowest of waists wildly. Let me make this clearer; no human, male or female, could refuse this woman, based on this feature alone. There is something about the way a woman's hips sway and move that make men lust and women pant, and I was mesmerised by her.

Her ass was delectable. I have never wanted to spank a girl before, but- god help me- I could almost feel my palm against the soft flesh of her cheeks; watching as the red mark flowered out over the pale skin. I shook my head, trying to recapture my sangfroid before it was too late.

She was feeling her way around the protective circle with her hands, probing, seeking holes. I smirked, watching her. Her nakedness and sheer sexiness made her body magnetic- even with clothes on, she would draw attention. I suppose my attraction was somewhat inevitable. She was kind of everything I wasn't. Where she was short, barely coming up to my shoulders, I was tall- her mouth was at the same height as my breasts, for god's sake! She was so pale, so stark; I was Latin, but dark. My mother was from Columbia, and my father was Nigerian. Her shape, despite my description, was tiny, and while completely in proportion she could have been a gymnast or a ballet dancer; I was tall, not bodybuilder, but strong. I worked out, and thus my body showed the signs of it. I was the sort of girl that guys find... intimidating. Most men cannot bring themselves to bed someone taller than themselves, so little wonder I liked girls more.

I never considered myself attractive, but if I looked into a mirror I could at least give myself a pass grade. I kept my hair long (really, why is it that the stereotype of lesbians involves shaved heads and masculine women? Or it involves someone like Katy Perry- the consummate male fantasy. Is there no in between in people's minds?) and my features were feminine enough, I suppose. I liked my eyes; twin pools of deep brown, just a shade or so darker than my skin. Sigh. I suppose I should describe my body as well then. My breasts were large enough to get in the way, so I almost constantly wore a pickup bra. I was toned, so my stomach was good- not six pack good; I never liked that perception of beauty. But I despaired of ever disposing of my ass.

I work our heaps. I am as healthy as I possibly can be. So why -WHY- can I not get rid of my ass? I mean, it is as big a j.lo's at its worst. Look, I know what you're saying- you're complaining about having a big ass, but I'm sure it looks fine, but you don't get it. I always have- had, I suppose. Kind of got lost in there, forgot what happened. Ah, well- to look out, make sure it looks okay at least. I can't wear skirts, for fucks sake, because no matter what they ride up whenever I bend over and there goes my dignity- usually straight to some old Italian gentlemen sitting on a park bench nearby. At least I make- or at least I hope I make- their days.

Anyhow, I'm sure you can see my attraction to this creature. Not only was she a lust demon- and trust me, anyone could get turned gay by this broad. I'm lucky I was already there- but she was everything I'm not.

She stopped her movements, and turned to look straight at me. Her eyes stared right into mine, and I struggled to keep mine level.

She broke the staring contest first- to my relief- and looked me up and down. I couldn't help feeling a little self conscious; I was wearing a set of track suit pants and a college band tee shirt.

"Hmmm..." She said, still inspecting me. "Given the summons I expected someone a bit older, and probably more male. They used to frown on the women using magic, but I can see times have changed a bit. Like clothing." Her gaze returned to my eyes, and I felt my face grow warm.

"Been a while since I've been topside here. Care to fill me in on the details here, miss?"

I was taken quite significantly aback by all this. Demons, even the most powerful ones you can think of, did not behave like this. They considered their time on our planet to be a burden, even if they did grab a few souls on the way back. This creature was... intriguing.

"What do you want to know?" I said, not even bothering to try and stay mastery about this- so cliché, the "do my will, demon!" And the "yes master"(usually in a silibiant whisper). Urggh! Repress gag reflex. Continue.

"Well, start with the year- and please don't tell me you're still using that anno domini crap still?"

"Well, would it help if I said we no long say the year of our lord?"

"Not really. I kind of wished that I'd been on the planet- or at least in the general vicinity- when that oaf was stirring up the Romans and the Jews. Would have shown him a thing or two." She licked her lips, revealing an almost blood red tongue. I couldn't help it; I sighed a little. She took no notice- at least, I hoped she didn't.

"2018."

The demon rolled her eyes. "And you humans still haven't let go of that sanctimonious crap? 'Oh, love one another as I have loved cheese'!"

I couldn't help it; I smiled a little. Repressing it a bit, I replied, "I don't think I remember that version."

"Well," she looked down, toying at the ground using her foot- goddamn it, even those were sexy- "it went a little differently than that, but he liked cheese. I mean, he really liked cheese."

I must have looked a bit nonplussed, because she straightened up and looked at me inquiringly.

"Are you going to tell me why you summoned me? I mean, it's nice and all- I haven't come out of my little crispy shell in a long time, but..." She looked at me expectantly.

I shook my head. "I am a conjurer. My mother had the gift, and she taught me a bit, but she died a year or so ago."

The demon looked at me still. "She'd be downstairs wouldn't she? I mean, if she was a conjure woman, she'd be-"

"Don't even think about her!" I said forcefully. I really did not want a demon searching out my mum in hell because I have a big mouth.

The demon held up her hands, placating.

"Sorry. Didn't mean anything by it. You were saying?"

"I found a set of manuscripts. I found the remnants of a spell book, and I traced down the other words. I'm not sure if I had it entirely right, but something must have been right."

The demon looked impressed. "You are telling me you only had half an incantation and made up the rest? Nice."

"What do you mean, nice?"

"Well, the last time I came up I was kind of responsible for some bad business between a man and his best friend."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"One of their names was Julius Caesar."

"Shit. So what, were you Cleopatra?"

"No; just got a commission on fucking Anthony and Jules up. You know, making sure they were no longer buddies. The usual."

I had meant to ask this question first, but in the moment I had forgotten.

"Who are you?"

The demon looked surprised. "You summoned me without my name? Damn, girl; you must be powerful!"

"Answer the question."

She looked playfully at me.

"It'll cost you."

I rolled my eyes. "What?'

"A kiss." She said reverently.

"Tell me and I'll judge whether or not I'll kiss you." She pouted.

"But my name kind of changes people's minds about me. You know, things are all good, and you're shacking up with several armies, then all of a sudden someone learns my name and I'm either banished, tortured- and believe me, I don't like torture more than anyone else- or being chased by angry mobs. And do you know what happens to a demon when a mob catches them?"

I thought for a moment. "You set fire to them?"

She shot me an annoyed look. "I hate it when humans already know the answers to your jokes. Here I am, trying to wallow in self pity, and you come along and burst my bubble. Why couldn't you ju-"

"You're stalling. Do I have to compel you?" I said, straightening my back until I was as tall as I could be. Never mind I would prefer lying on my back, her hair spread across my thighs...

"Fine. I am Infidelity."

I will admit, I wasn't expecting that. She was looking at me expectantly again, but this time it was tinged with worry.

I smiled a bit. She was kind of genuine, in a way most people aren't, let alone demons. She caught on instantly, and smiled back.

"Call me Jezebel, or Delilah. Either is equally pertinent. Infidelity is kind of a crappy name. I like Delilah more- has a bit of sex to it. Exotic."

I nodded. "I summoned you because I wanted to see if I could, from the manuscript I had. You said you haven't been topside for a while; who did you used to work for? Do you know much transferable magic? That sort of thing." I shrugged, then tapped my chest with my finger. "Human; search for power and all that."

Delilah shook her head, but I could see the beginning of a pert smile on her face, creating dimples at the corner of her mouth.

"Oh dear! And I thought you were one of the nice ones." She smirked at me, showing her teeth. They were gleaming white, and I could see the curved incisors, the length and sharpness of her fangs. They looked metallic, gleaming in the dimness of the room. I shivered a little, but then shrugged it off. As human as she seemed at times, she wasn't. She wanted my soul to toy with for eternity- melodramatic I know, but it helped me focus at what I was doing instead of her body.

I know, but I hadn't gotten any for a while. Sue me.

"I have, well, rather a lot of practical magic that can be used here, but I can't teach you from inside this pentagram. As for who I worked with last, that would be for a shaman of a tribe in a place you probably haven't heard of, in a country that wasn't discovered yet when I was last out and about."

I wasn't going to let her out of the circle for a while yet; didn't trust her further than I could throw her, and I was far too attracted to her to really trust myself within arm's reach of her.

"Given your name, what sort of rank do you hold? I mean, in hell."

"Well... hard to say. Jealousy kinda likes me- for obvious reasons- and he's a disciple of Lust. I suppose I'm immediately under Jealousy, who is both equally under the jurisdiction of both Avarice and Lust. So that would put me... third from the top. But they're kind of mentals, using lesser to do the actual sinning. I'm more of an on-the-spot scene-of-the-crime sort of a girl." She smiled at me again, this time more friendly. Not that she needed to show her teeth to be scary.

"Hang on," I said, ignoring her expression. "Isn't avarice the same as jealousy?"

"No, avarice is the desire for material objects, or for pleasure (she took great enjoyment out of gazing directly at me as she spoke, emphasising the word pleasure slightly) where as jealousy is the desire for something that is someone elses."

"Well?" she said, her hands going to her hips. She took a pose, leaning more on one leg than the other. Her movement made her breasts jiggle, and I could almost feel them in my hand. I wanted to feel them in my hand.

"Well what?"I said, rather crossly I'll admit. I don't like getting interrupted mid fantasy, and I was annoyed with myself for fantasising about a demon. Never mind the dry streak; there's no excuse.

"Well, what about my kiss? I'm not a deal demon, but I can get one who will testify in an open court that a bargain was struck, and we both know that deal demons are the best witnesses."

I rolled my eyes. She was incorrigible.

I walked over to her, making sure I did not disturb the chalk on the ground; as long as the lines didn't break, she couldn't do me ill. I liked this protective design; used it a bit. And yes, I have used succubi before. In this design. Thank you for those thoughts. That's right; I caught you.

She was so small. I could have picked her up, and held her against me tight, but that wasn't what she wanted. Her hand crept up, behind my neck, and pulled my face down to hers. I could smell her breath; coffee and chocolate could never even try to rival this smell. She smelt of decadence, of richness so opulent you could only have a small amount before it was enough.

I kept my eyes open, watching her face. She was unbelievable. Her eyes were so deep I could see her mind behind them, watch her thoughts swirling around inside. I wondered if she could see mine as well.

When her lips touched mine, I closed my eyes. I gave my lips over to her, and I lost myself. I was surrounded by her, her smell, her hair, her mouth. Oh god, her mouth. I kissed back hard, my tongue finding hers. She was so small, yet I could feel her every part where she had contact with me; her breasts were crushed hard against mine, my back arched as I leaned over. They were warm and unbelievably soft. I ran my hands down her back, feeling the delicacy of her shoulder blades, before cupping her ass. She moaned into my mouth, and I tasted blood.

I pulled back, more turned on than I have ever been in my life. I wanted the blood, wanted to taste it more, wanted to feel it flowing out of her and into me, but I was appalled. Clearly my spell protections were not enough against such a high demon; her powers were fiddling with my mind. I wanted her more than anything, but I stepped back. She mewed slightly, her arms reluctant to let me go, and her breathing ragged.

"Do we really have to stop?" she said, her face disappointed.

I nodded. "Sorry, dear, but I can't have you eating me already. Where's your sense of foreplay?"

She smiled slightly. "Oh, Dearest, you haven't had foreplay until you've had it with me."

She dissolved into smoke, and left the ring, dissipating slowly.

I was left standing there wondering just exactly what her hair smelt like.

I was much better prepared this time- Much- and had placed a mental block over the normal protections. This way, she could not leave her own skull at all; no mind reading, no influencing, not aura of sensuality. Just physical, and there was a clause that I inserted into the ritual that stated if Delilah got hostile, or even had a thought of becoming hostile, I would be warned. I had also prepped a dismissal, and I only had to say the last word to send her back to hell.

She came as smoke again, before materialising as the redheaded girl. Her eyes lit up when she saw me, and before I had even known it she ran over to me and hugged me, her arms reaching up around my neck, as she knocked me over.

I would have dismissed her, but she had knocked all the breath out of me. I was panting, as she smothered me with kisses, running up and down my neck.

"I didn't think you would summon me back!"

I gave her a look of reproach. She looked a little guilty.

"Sorry, did you still want me to pretend that your pentagram is enough to confine me? I mean, it hurts and all, leaving it, but not much can stop me here." She sniffed in the air, as she lay on top of me, breathing in so deeply she pushed her breasts into my chest.

"MMMMmmmm." She lifted her eyes, and looked into mine clearly. "I love this. This world, this time. Better than any before. So much sex, so many adulterers. Each time they cheat, it is like they are praying to me, and I get to share in their bliss."

I pushed her off me, my hands on her shoulders, my thumbs brushing against her hair.

"Are you telling me that you could have eaten me at any point?"

She nodded, smirking. I really didn't like that expression. "Trust me, Dearest, I'm not going to deprive myself of the delicious foreplay we're having here."

She leant forwards, her hands at my waist, lifting up my tee shirt, kissing along the edges as she went. Now, I'm not a virgin, to either sex, but her kisses seemed to linger on my skin, long after her lips left each spot. Her touches were light, but every kiss left a trail of sensation. Her hands continued to lift up my shirt, until her thumbnails were toying with the fabric at the front of my bra. I was, to be honest, frozen; this was DEMON here, people! Never mind how pretty she was, or how her voice sounded sweet, or how her lips parted between my breasts, as she attacked the skin there, or how I could still feel her saliva on my stomach, a trail of fire and ice and desire. Or how I couldn't think, couldn't compose myself.

I arched my back, as the demon kissed my far too sensitive skin, nibbling at the flesh. If I thought her lips felt amazing, her teeth were utterly mind-blowing; I could feel her breaking the skin, but it was so light and her teeth were so sharp that it didn't hurt. I couldn't feel pain, her fingers trailing symbols into my skin. But then she stopped, and looked up at me, her expression perplexed.

"What on earth are you wearing? This metal wiry thing over your breasts?"

I took this opportunity to regain my equilibrium, and pushed my shirt back down again. I stood up, and walked away towards the table where I kept a pitcher of water, deliberately turning my back on her.

"It's called a bra, and you are not to do that to me again." I said. The laws of the summoning were potent, far more so than maybe the protection symbols. God knew they were older. And the ritual itself would not have worked had my will been weaker than hers; ergo, I must have some form of power over her. I was kind of banking- or at least hoping- that it would be that she had to do as she was told.

She looked at me, her expression hardening, but shrugged.

"Given that I can't 'do that again', as you ordered,- Really!- how on earth do you get out of that thing? And why wear it in the first place? As some means to keep your breasts from potential lovers? A trial to see if someone is worthy to see your breasts- if they can take it off without help, they get you?" She looked a bit irked, even a little pissed off.

"Where do you get off, asking questions like that?"

"I'm sorry, Master- sorry, what's the etiquette here? Are you Master or Mistress?" I looked at her helplessly for a second.

"Remember, never been summoned by a woman." She looked at me, hands on her hips. I couldn't help but smile; she was so serious.

"Why do you really need to know that? It doesn't really matter; I could just tell you my name; humans lost the knack of discovering true names centuries ago."

She stared at me, her eyes hard. "It Is necessary, because if you are going to play the Master role, you have to do the official thing. Like the ritual itself, the master/slave laws --the laws of the summon- indicate that I have to be subservient to a Master, but seeing as you're a woman, I need some form of title to attach."

She sounded a bit hurt now, and she walked back over to the pentagram, sitting on the chair I'd provided. I looked at her for a bit.

What the hell?

I honestly thought she was offended by my action. I mean, I summoned her because I wanted to learn from her. The fact that she was interesting and gorgeous was a bonus, but I had no desire to lose my soul to her.

I am not very good with people. I'm sure you've noticed; if you haven't, you could probably glean it from my attitude. I don't like them, mostly, so they don't tend to like me back. As a consequence of this, I was at a complete loss as to what I should do here.

I settled for at least establishing what was going on.

"Are you upset with me? Deli-"

"DON'T use that name on me! I give that to people I happen like, not to my masters! I thought you were different. Like my old friends."

Again, dumbfounded. Stumped. I sighed.

"Look, whatever you want me to call you, do you want to explain what the HELL you are talking about? I didn't mean to offend you before, but come on! You're a demon. You prey on humans. I'm a human."

She turned around to me. Oh-oh. I'd done it now. Her hair had practically gone up a shade or two, and her eyes, while not glowing like a Rage demon, certainly glittered. I didn't take a step backwards, and just looked at her.

She toned her feelings down a bit, but I could see she was still angry.

"I told you I was sent to Egypt. I had never known humans; not really. Most of my experiences with them had come from their association with my jurisdiction. Sinners, adulterers. Then I met a group of mages who were sun worshippers. One of them was a man who had immense knowledge of magic; enough to make me at least partially able to ignore my summons.

"He knew me. He called me Jez. He loved me as a man loves a woman, and as his wife never did. But when I met her I was surprised. She might not love him, but she- and he- shared an appreciation for each other like that I had never seen.

"He was my friend, my lover. I showed him things about the fabric of nature, of life. He showed me feeling, emotions, laughter. He distained the word Master for me, even though he had claimed me for his own slave by breaking the summoning chains between me and my former Master."

"But my master sent other demons after me. I fought them; I am high enough along the chain that his pathetic creatures were not enough. But I had to protect him, my lover.

"So I brought Antony together with Cleopatra, knowing that Caesar had eyes for her. I used what my lover showed me to bring them down. I used my lover's lessons in love for the greatest of wrongs."

Her eyes were no longer hard, or even soft. They were great wells of pain, creating trails of red down her face.

"But, when the war came, I tried to find him. I looked everywhere. I used even my magic, innate, to find my master. But the chains which he had let lapse were too weak; there was nothing left of him or his wife by the time I found their bodies, on a cart to a mass grave. A casualty of war."

She stopped staring into space, and looked at me.

"I hate it. My name is not Delilah, or Jezebel, or Eve. My name is Infidelity, and it is my curse to break lovers apart from within. I use the very best of them to break them. It doesn't matter if I intend to or not; my every action leads to that result. Abbadon, the demon of destruction, applauded my work that day. He said," she stopped, her voice breaking, "He said that I should be proud, and he didn't know why I cried. They were only humans to him."

"And now I have you; a human. A woman who is gorgeous, who is the yin to my yang. When you summoned me, you didn't insist on a name for yourself, so I wondered about you. But now you tell me that because I am a demon, you cannot trust me, or like me? You sound like Abaddon. Then, do you think that I am merely here to be exploited, to be used then discarded? I am a thinking, living thing. How DARE you talk to me like that, as though I'm your slave?"

She broke down, sobbing, her hands quickly becoming stained red with her tears.

I was still immensely nonplussed, but I walked over to her, and got on my knees in front of her. I wrapped my arms around her, and received a little token resistance before she let me.

I flinched a little bit away from the smell of blood, but I ignored it. I suppose I was guilty of a bit of a double standard, but being called a hypocrite is hardly a pleasant experience. She sobbed a bit into my shoulder, and I let her cry. I wasn't going to open my mouth for fear of finding yet another method of putting my foot in it, but I couldn't help but think; hang on, what if this is all an act? That was a wonderful, clichéd story, and the whole friendly, nice --human- thing as only a front, so that she could get a foothold on this world?

She looked up at me, smiling a little bit. "There goes my reputation, you know. I'm meant to be one of the scariest demons in the Lust denominie, and you've gone and ruined that by making me cry." She laughed, a feeble little thing. I couldn't help it; act or no act, she was utterly adorable. I raised my hand, and placed it under her chin. I placed my lips on hers, and kissed her softly, lingeringly. At first, she seemed a bit surprised, but then she began to respond.

It is at this point here that I should tell you, I don't really remember the next few seconds or minutes. It was like an orgasm, the entire time we kissed. You know how you can remember how sex feels, but not truly remember? That is what I remember from the next however long it lasted.

I can remember her lips tasted of copper, but instead of that throwing me off like it did last time I pressed harder into her, forcing my tongue deep into her mouth; past her half open lips. I'd forgotten about the knives she used for teeth, but I was beyond caring, and she began to kiss me back.

It was like someone turned on a light. I arched my back; I think I might have let out an "Oh" sound into her mouth, but she returned my ferocity with her own. I might have kissed her hard because I felt guilty, but she had so much more than I did. And she wanted this more.

I don't know at what point I truly began to believe her. It wasn't here, and it wasn't until later that I realised. But maybe this was the beginning, this acknowledgement of her femininity, as opposed to her sexuality, and of my own.

When we broke apart, she was lying on top of me, toying at the neckline of my tee shirt. My hands were on her perfect hips, toying at the flesh of her thighs. I was astonished to find out that all of my clothing was still on, but I didn't care. I could see her face, all framed in flowing copper, and I could see her eyes.

If she were a cat, she'd be purring.

I ran my hands through her hair, and looked into her eyes.

"Sorry," I said, before muttering the dismissal.

That was the first night I can remember the dreams. I, as a whole, tended to forget my dreams when I woke up, so it was odd to have the incredibly lucid dreams like this now. But I supposed it was due to my lifestyle, and the fact that I was not getting any.

I was floating of a dark room, just above a swirling fan. It was stifling in here, the air heavy, moist. I wasn't breathing, but I could hear someone panting.

I looked through the dim light, down at the couple on the bed. Looking at them, I instinctively knew that her name was Audrey, and her firstborn son's name was Liam. Her husband was Drew, and he was a bad actor in one of the soaps that flowed around America, their fans ever loyal. But the man inside of her, thrusting, was Jared, a real estate agent. His wife was dying, in a hospital bed. He hadn't wanted to cheat, but he had not slept with anyone for two years. He met her at an Irish pub, when she was out with some girls. They went home before she did, and before she left Audrey noticed him at the bar, drinking slowly but determinately.

I saw the night play out as though it was my life. I watched as she called a cab, and he helped her in- or was it the other way around, as they were both tipsy. He broke down, his head in his hands; she wrapped her arms around him. He kissed her out of desperation; she was shocked but felt so alive. So special.

I felt his utter, utter guilt, his desperation, his lust. I felt her desire, her sense of adventure. She asked the taxi to take them to the nearest motel.

He held her wrist as they entered the room, and the second the door closed after them he swung her around, pushing her back against the door. His mouth hungrily sought hers, and he pulsed with need. She gasped as she felt his cock through his pants, her legs instinctively parting. She bit him through his shirt; he growled.

He reached down, to the hem of her dress, and lifted it up, seeking her legs. She felt his hands on the bare flesh of her thighs, and moaned, her hands going to his head. He had it shaved, not bald, so she felt the stubble on his scalp against her palms; so unlike the gorgeous, manicured hair of her husband.

He hadn't meant to taste her, but now he was down there he could smell her desire. He didn't normally do this- his wife (he shuddered, thinking of her) didn't like it- but he kissed her thighs softly, his mouth gentle on her body.

She knew it the second he reached her panties. She wanted it badly now; it was no longer a matter of if, but when. She longed to feel his tongue against her slit, to taste the dampness between her legs, to give her some relief. She fantasised about it; him coming up, kissing her, tasting like her. Thrusting in.

He was all instinct now, his mind switched off. Lust drove him, guilt sitting to one side, shunted off to live with other unwanted things. He penetrated her with his tongue, passing her outer lips, holding them open with his fingers. Her nails dug into his head as he worked, paying attention to where she seemed to want it most. I felt her surge, and was glad I was sitting inside his head.

She wilted, falling onto his shoulder, as he rose. He caught her well in time, but did not try to reset her position. He held her leg just below the knee, and kept it braced against his shoulder. She winced, but didn't stop him, as he continued to push upwards.

He reached his full height, and she panted as he thrust into her, no concern for her in his mind. Her hands, twin in their effort, grasped at his behind, forcing him to greater efforts. His hands were placed for ease of access, and he wilfully thrust away into her, deeper than he had ever been into a woman in his life.

She loved it. Where I had always hated the intrusion, felt uncomfortable around penises, she revelled. Her mind was a sink of lust, completely unaware of her voice, screaming out "OH GOD, FUCK ME FUCK MEFUCKMEFUCKME...!!"

She erupted around him, as she felt the leather buckle of his belt slam hard into her clit. His grip on her tightened in proportion to how she did, and he thrust even harder, faster, into her. Her body tried to restrict him, but he forced her open, and she didn't come down from her peak.

He felt his own peak approaching, and felt a brief moment of lucidity. Just as he was about to explode, he pulled out and pushed her down, to the ground. She looked up at him, questioningly, before placing her hands in his cock, jacking him. She cupped her other hand over the head, and she felt his erection swell as he burst hard.

A male orgasm is like nothing I've ever experienced. Where women can go for longer, and finish more than once, men can only really come once in a session- some cannot even do that if my experience is anything to go by. It was as though every orgasm he'd denied to himself was speeding towards him, flooding his system with burning pleasure. The silent death, the Japanese call it. It wasn't so silent for him.

I would like to feed the cliché of this by saying he shot buckets of seed, but he was about normal, if not a little bit more. He fell onto the ground, next to her, and they sank into a wonderful silence, her head on his shoulder, her hands- still covered in seed- in his lap.

I saw the whole night, as they swept across the room, using each other's bodies over and over. I felt them come, all at once. I floated backwards, drawn away. It was as though I was connected to a ball of twine, and it was being pulled by someone on the other end.

I was so high. I floated over most of North America, and watched. I could see other threads, other floaters. But I could still feel Audrey and Jared, could still see their minds.

I could see it now; the threads of their fates, twirling together to weave a blanket of sin.

I heard her voice, and I tasted blood.