Friday, October 30, 2009
You slip into pudding warmth. That's how it begins.
Down below. Rolling on thighs. Up the soles of your feet and between toes. Down spinal channels to suck mango hollows in your brain.
This dream--more delicious than sleep. The pudding's progress. The knees. The oh-Jesus trail from thigh, to inners, to melting down forbidden valleys where heat is leaping, pulsing, pulsing, harder. To living stone.
The sheets flutter off. No thinking. Ankles drag you down from the pillow. But strangely, it's not strange. Limp arms pull above your head. Helpless on the mattress. Elbows hover, about to beat a wingless flight.
Night air tingles across your underarms.
Shins drag open.
You rumble with earthquakes. Attacks entangled in surrender. Cock curving. Stomach writhing. You're splitting with rises and falls. Rising.
Her heat is a thump of weight and muscle.
Your honey-and-whisper eyes crack, and you see her. An angel of bronze and rippling. Beautiful enough to weep.
Now now now now. The seed of a hundred gods bellows between your legs. Never so large. Never so beautiful. Fingers reach and part her sculpture. Unveiling. Glistening. Stretching to engulf you.
She slices downward. The heave catapults your back from bed. Arms still cuffed. Arching.
She destroys you. A landslide. An obliteration. Strength to rend muscle and bone. Bed flaps from floor. You roar a lung-rending rhythm.
Fast. Fast. Fast.
You spasm and flail arms. Then grip. White claws on her back.
On the precipice, nothing moves. She is all. No motion. All freedom crushed and asphyxiation.
In her death squeeze, you explode.
Mouth torn wide. Soundless, between her breasts.
Then she rips away, your mind yanked with her, your must-have-forever splattered at her feet. Your body bubbles up from the mattress.
A bronze angel in one blink.
In the next, she is silvery skin and blackness and purple eyes. Still beautiful. The leering and licking demon.
Caressing and tickling sulphurs into your semen.
Then silver enfolds shadows. Shadows drain into a distant light. A nothing eases outside your window.
Somewhere, in another bed, Incubus breath falls on a woman's musky dark.
And that is how the warmth begins.
(Based on the legend of the Succubus, a demon which takes female form in order to lie with a man and steal his semen. After twisting the seed, it then takes male form (the Incubus), which visits a woman to conceive a demon child.)
Beware of night visitors in the dark rooms of this Halloween night!