Shannon Crocus (My Succubus 4 & 5)

IV.

Before I knew my stalker,
or heard her soft whispers
manipulating my thoughts,
an inner war waged for the
direction my soul would go;
bless the noble attempt of
    scripture as defense.

Yet, for all it's verses writ,
and despite the sermons
preached at my youth
ev'ry Sunday, Wednesday,
God's inspired words would
fail as a defense of my soul
    and be their own undoing.

Shannon Crocus knew this,
as any wicked daemon does;
I'd argue 'gainst my thoughts,
my young sexual inclinations,
using the same verses that
my succubus stalker would
    pervert to her advantage.

Mirror shard held in hand,
house without our parents,
whenever either sister came
downstairs to take a shower,
my moral battle would wage,
to watch her strip and lust,
    or heed the pastor.

'The nakedness of thy sister,
...even their nakedness thou
shalt not uncover,' Leviticus
would attempt to restrain my
feet, even as they crept out,
silently kneeling by the door,
    peeking by it's gap.

'If a man shall take his sister
...and see her nakedness,
and she see his nakedness,
it is a wicked thing...' but,
Leviticus couldn't keep me,
not if, by asking "why not?"
    no modern answer rose.

And so I'd watch her strip,
see her panties drop and
study the soft curves, the
smooth skin of her ass,
a tempting virgin mound
wet and rubbing herself,
    such voyeuristic sin...

Underneath ev'ry action,
there was Shannon's will,
pulling the threads of my
soul, the threads of life,
driving my asking why,
disrupting my nightly sleep
    with unclean dreams.

V.

Shannon's laughter,
unheard by my struggle;
my unguided preteen self
continued a wayward path
away from holy adherence
and it's insistence on
    sexual ignorance.

A voyeur's habit developed,
which fed a further want;
any fantasy I had thence
featured not anonymous
female models or girls
unfamiliar or unfriendly;
    often, it were sisters.

Not to forego any chance
of blasphemous influence,
Shannon pulled any thread,
classmate or sibling alike;
she kept to the shadows
and studied how best to
    navigate my morals.

Knowing my right hand
would evermore seek a
private and wanton grip,
I'd fool myself by thinking
a thought to classmates,
or the neighbor girl, would
    hold back the incest.

My wily, stalking daemon
knew it didn't matter who,
but that a lust for sister
would keep me near Hell,
and so, with ease, she
saved e'vry intense orgasm
    for taboo fantasies.

I'd wake up perturbed;
an erect, eager cock
daring to be witnessed
if I don't find quick release;
and so, as if to obey
the command of scripture,
    I'd seek cleanliness.

Deuteronomy would advise,
'if there be any man that is
not clean by reason of an
uncleanness that chanceth
him by night... he shall wash
himself with water,' a trick,
    I'd fall for it every time.

My hand would seek to
clean my desperate loins,
instead I'd find pleasure,
thick, hard sinner's flesh;
ev'ry time, my demon near,
encouraging each stroke
    as I pictured thus...

A light knock, she steps in,
Shannon, looking just like
my little sister, smiling,
looking down at my cock
as she begins stripping;
I stroke slowly as she
    exhibits her nude body.

Sis joins me showering,
hot water cascades down
her body, young breasts,
smooth, taboo virgin folds;
her palm grabs under my
throbbing, excited shaft;
    sis grips and strokes.

She gets closer, grins,
rubs my horny tip around
her lower lips, focusing
around her sweet clitoris;
I squeeze each cheek
of her tight ass, she moans,
    begging for my cum.

Shannon acting as sis
gets down on her knees,
eyes lusting for my cock
before looking up at me;
she wraps her soft lips
around my tip, my shaft,
    swallowing my seed...

At once, I release my sin,
washing it away again,
head hung in shame, and
soul aflame in sinful joy,
had I known a succubus
were cursing my loins,
    I'd have cut them off.