Satan's Whore Ch. 02

"I'm through drinking. God, woman, you're testing me."

Kat approached him. "Dancing can be erotic."

She pressed herself against him and nipped at his ear. Her breasts flattened against his chest and her pelvis ground into his groin as they started a slow, clumsy rotation. His hands freely roamed her backside.

"That's better," said Gunther

She hummed a tune and closed her eyes.

Gunther danced passably well for someone who could hardly stand. German fortitude. His pulled ineffectually at the hem of her skirt.

"Let me help," she said. She stepped back and unfastened the skirt, allowing it to fall around her boots. She kicked it out of the way. "Better?" she asked.

Gunther leered at her, taking in her long legs and the prize between them. "The shirt too."

"In a moment. Let's take care of you first."

As she unbuttoned his shirt, he painfully squeezed her breasts.

Gratefully, she sank to her knees out of reach and busied herself with his trousers. When at last he stood naked, she held his flaccid cock in her hand. "Let's see what we can do about this."

She had to work fast. Given the hour, the exertion of the climb, and the alcohol he'd consumed, poor Gunther was clearly nearing the end of his strength. It wouldn't do to have him pass out on her. She cupped his testicles in her hand and encircled his cock between her thumb and forefinger.

"You've been so patient," she murmured.

A grunt of affirmation from above.

"Let's see what I can do to reward you."

Her tongue flicked out and navigated the crown of his shaft as she squeezed its base.

She hummed her pleasure and licked his shaft, from base to tip.

His hands fell onto her head.

Her lips parted, allowing his glans to enter her mouth. She marveled as she always did at its delicate smoothness as she rolled it on her tongue. Presently she felt it harden within her, the blood coursing through it, filling it. Maybe tonight wouldn't be a waste.

She slid more of his thickening cock into her mouth, cradling its underside on her tongue and encircling it with her lips. His hands pulled at her head. She resisted, bracing herself for what was sure to come. With a violent pull, he impaled himself and held her there.

He gasped his pleasure as she struggled against him. At length he let her go and she withdrew, gasping.

"What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely baffled.

"You want to fuck my mouth," she said. "Fuck it then."

There was no gentleness in him, no gratitude at what she had offered. He grasped her head and thrust himself into her, crushing her face into him. His drunkenness made it worse. Her fingernails bit into his ass but he scarcely noticed. She felt his violent passage over her tongue, felt him pummel the back of her throat. She sensed by his breathing that he was nearing the end. Too soon. With a shove, she disentangled herself from him.

"What now?"

"My mouth isn't the only place I want you."

He looked confused. Then the light went on. "Ah."

"This time, you let me drive. Lie down."

Gunther shrugged and complied, lying down in the middle of the dance floor.

Kat approached and stood over him. His cock pointed upward to the delicate folds of her pussy. His eyes were locked on the same location. She ran a finger through her labia, spreading the tender folds of flesh. "Tell me you want me," she purred. Her fingers disappeared within and she watched as his eyes widened.

"I want you," he said.

"Not very convincing." She dropped to her knees and straddled him. Her lips brushed his cock. She locked her hands around his wrists and held them to the floor. He smiled.

"I'll give you an inch for every time you convince me."

"I want you."

"Not good enough."

"Fuck. I want you."

His hips rose and she moved with them.

"Oh, please. Enough already."

"That's better." Kat lowered herself onto him, just an inch. She tightened herself around him.

"Oh fuck," he gasped.

"I'll take that as a compliment. That'll earn you another inch. You're learning."

Kat rode the tip of his cock, embracing him within her. She could feel the blood course through his length, feel the life and vitality.

"Stop teasing me."

"Then tell me how much you want me. Beg me."

"I don't beg." He strained against her and attempted to move his arms. His eyes widened when he realized that this woman, this waif, held him effectively immobile. Kat felt the first tendrils of doubt insinuate themselves into his passion. Good, she thought. And so the dance begins.

"Tell me."

"I want you. I want you! All of you."

"You're cheating, but I'll give you another inch for being a good sport."

"That's good. Ah." His head fell back on the rough floor.

Her hips rose and fell and swayed in a circle above him. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the sensation. For a drunken lout, he has staying power, thought Kat. Perhaps he had staying power because he was a drunken lout.

As she lowered herself onto him completely, she reveled in the surge of animal lust that he exuded. He moaned occasionally. He filled her and she clutched him greedily. He gasped at the embrace.

"Fuck me," he breathed.

It was time. She stopped moving and sat upon him.

His eyes opened. "Why are you stopping?"

"I'm hot."

As she ground her pelvis into him, she released his wrists and slowly unbuttoned her blouse.

"Ah yes, you forgot that," said Gunter unnecessarily.

She shrugged out of the silken blouse and threw it into the darkness before resuming her dance upon him. His eyes blearily followed her movements and the swaying of her breasts, watching himself appear and then vanish within her.

She stroked her breasts and teased the nipples. Men liked that.

"You feel good," she purred. "Fuck me."

He began thrusting as she held herself above him. Hints of what she would soon enjoy tickled at her consciousness.

His breathing quickened. Climax approached. She could feel it in his loss of rhythm.

She fondled her breasts, kneading them.

"That's much better. One feels encumbered at times."

He looked at her breasts and then reached out to them, pinching her nipples painfully. "I can imagine."

"That's not what I meant."

Her wings unfurled behind her and slowly came into view as she swept them forward.

"Much better indeed."

His eyes focused on her.

"Usually I wait until they sleep. For you I'm making an exception."

His eyes betrayed confusion, clearly not making the connection between the woman who rode him and the wings.

Not good, thought Kat.

"You asked whether I was an angel..." She shimmered and coalesced again. This time, horns of ivory extended from the crown of her head. Her eyes flashed like the embers of a dying fire and her skin itself bore a reddish hue.

"I'm not." The timbre of her voice changed, becoming deeper and sounding somehow distant.

She rode him violently now, seeking to offset the dread that blossomed in him. She rammed onto him and clenched him mercilessly.

"Come for me, you bastard!"

Her fingers gripped the flesh of his chest.

She ground into him and threw her head back. Yes! She exulted as the terror and lust mingled into that heady elixir she thirsted for. She'd forgotten this, this soaring feast. She shuddered upon him as every nerve fired with energy, as she drank in the fullness of his offering.

"Come for me!" she shrieked.

Stop.

She felt him spurting his seed into her, the throbbing mindless spasms that passed his potency to her. She sucked it up greedily as he shuddered beneath her. His heels rapped a tattoo against the floor of the barrel.

Stop.

She'd forgotten the ecstasy of this moment, having denied herself for so long...

Stop.

The fulfillment...

Stop.

The unspeakable pleasure...

Stop!

Kat slowly came back to herself as the thrumming of energy subsided into her being as water into soil.

Gunther lay unmoving beneath her. She saw blood running from the furrows she'd raked into his chest.

What have I done?

His eyes were closed. His limbs lay against the floor as though he'd been thrown there.

Kat jumped to her feet and his limp cock fell onto his belly. Alarm replaced the joy she'd felt just moments before.

Damn. Have I...

At that moment, Gunther's chest heaved with a sharp intake of breath. "Bitch," he mumbled, and his breathing soon settled into loud snoring.

Kat might have laughed but for the tears that streamed down her cheeks. Numbly she gathered her things and got dressed. I might have killed him, she thought. I might have ushered another soul into the beyond. The thought was too much to bear.

She straightened her skirt and knelt by Gunther's head. "You will wake up in two hours," she said. That should give him enough time to come to his senses and leave. Perhaps unnecessarily, given the amount he'd drunk, she added, "You will remember nothing."

She left the castle as the clouds scudded across the face of the moon, careful to leave the doors and gates unlocked. She hoped that Gunther would find his way.

As she walked home through the silent streets of the old town, she felt it -- a projection so intense and personal that she thought another demon must be responsible. She stopped on the sidewalk as it knifed through her and had to steady herself against a wall.

It wasn't so much pain that made Kat gasp, but the utter intimacy of the contact. There were no filters, just a broadcast of unadulterated yearning.

She had the sense to use this connection to trace its source.

Whatever this was, it had latched itself onto her.

Now she did groan. She had found the source of this projection. In her mind, she could see the American writhing on his bed.

She terminated contact, forcing the connection closed.

This boy would be more of a problem than she'd expected.

***

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