Diabolical Rapture

A/N: I love music and you'll find quite a few track names all through the text. Try them at a non-deafening volume, they aren't all the same genre (nor language) and hopefully they will help set the scene for the story. I feel happy spreading music's word while also spreading arousal. Let's see how my first story fares.

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"How the fuck can you ever be in the mood if you're not on those days when your parents aren't home and you've got a decent-looking boyfriend?" Gabriel muttered under his breath while he drove back to his small home. The music couldn't be considered 'background' due to the high volume, the most angry tunes he had were playing. He had a bad case of blue balls; a case that somehow kept coming back even though he had a steady girlfriend and he did his utmost to please her in every psychological and sentimental way in hopes his more physical needs would be met.

It seemed Alice put sex at the same priority as buying lighters. She didn't smoke.

Still cursing under his breath, he turned left onto his street. The few cars he saw were all parked, no one was driving at this hour. Happy anniversary, Mr. Verdin, he bitterly thought. A slower rock song came up. Blood's 'Se Lever', if he wasn't mistaken. Not angry enough. Change song... nope. Next. Next. Next. Deathstars' 'New Dead Nation'. That's a bit better, now.

He half-wished someone would crash into his car so he could have a way to vent all his anger on that someone and be perfectly justified for snapping. No such luck. Hell, when was the last time I got a half-assed handjob?! I honestly don't know who has a more active sex life, my grandmother with her new husband or me, and I'm not even 30.

It felt as if a small weight was dangling from each of his balls. It was his punishment for assuming he'd get something after his girlfriend rubbed her hand all along the crotch of his jeans. He thought he had seen a mischievous glint on Alice's eyes as she did it, and when he kissed her, she made a small humming sound before kissing back. Then, just as his hands touched her breasts (which, by the way, felt even softer than before) she stopped him with her classical 'you only want me for sex' look. He knew the words before they were out of her sexy lips.

"Does it always have to be like this? Can't you think about something else?"

As if they got it on daily, or even weekly - monthly would be a better guess. Gabriel Verdin wanted to go back to the first writer that inspired all the other romance writers and UNDO him or her. He was just a guy and he tried to be romantic; he tried to be the kind of boyfriend that would make other girls eye Alice with envy. But, it seemed that he still needed to read her mind and perhaps be corny. That was just out of character for him, he probably was hardwired against the sappy stuff.

They had discussed it before. If Gabriel wanted just sex, he would've gone for a girl that would've put out WAY before the two years she had made him wait. Or, he would've cheated on her. But he had been raised to do things all the way or not at all, and so he had never gone behind any of his girlfriends' backs, ever. It was not enough.

He loved her and she knew it, he was a very horny man and she was fully aware of that, too. But she always decided when they would have sex and it was always done as a chore with an "Ok, I'm spreading my legs, make me come, come yourself and let's get this over with" spirit that didn't do justice to real sex. He had never been truly satisfied with her sexually and somehow, he was the one at fault... or she would go into the same old guilt game saying it was her fault but obviously blaming him subtly.

How the hell had he gone through his anniversary like this? Of course, the day didn't matter, the fact that Alice's house was deserted and they didn't take advantage of it was what infuriated him. He had turned his room's sound system on and Kyo was singing 'Derniere Danse' as he stood under the shower's steady flow of lukewarm water. There was no way in hell he'd take a cold shower; that was would just be an added torture.

He needed to find a way to make Alice tingle with desire when she looked at him, just the way it happened in those books when the protagonist glimpsed the main male character. He had to find a way to make her flustered and tense, unable to control her impulse to kiss him then let him take her right then and there.

Fucking impossible! It was a simple, hard, sad fact. He hadn't even realized he was reaching orgasm with his hand moving up and down his member at a speed that would have been bruising if he had been a bit rougher. But there he was, zoned out and masturbating furiously, panting and grunting when his release came.

He felt a bit better, just a bit. All dried up after his bath and a terribly unfulfilling self-given orgasm, he was clicking away at different web browser tabs: a random porn site, an erotic stories webpage, all while listening to some variation of metal he couldn't possibly classify like some of his friends seemed obsessed to do. And, then it hit him.

After jacking off, he still needed sex. That was wrong. It was beyond wrong, his years were slowly passing by in this relationship that was almost perfect, except that the sex was nonexistent. In a way, they were being wasted away. So, thinking he needed to somehow see if he was the only one with this problem, he clicked on the erotic site's 'chat' link.

Strangely enough, there was this heated argument between a few users about something totally unrelated to sex. It was about magic, invocations, and other things that could've been stamped as "new age shit" to others. Not to him. He had been a huge fan of occult topics all through high-school, university, and even a few years after. Not the "summon a demon to get your homework done" or "light a candle to make him fall in love with you" stuff, but a more serious take on the supernatural side of the world. He had bought books written by people who saw magic as a very serious force and he tried to be equally professional about it. From Weyer to Leon Denis, he had bought different volumes, some of them fairly pricey. As he read, he hummed along to 'Mermaid'. That girl that sang for Elysian Fields could make anything sound sexy.

While he couldn't be considered an expert, he knew his way around this discussion. The last non-believer was backing away, obviously unconvinced but unwilling to go further on an internet argument. And so, the user SweetLucy went back to her explanation of how a certain ritual should be interpreted in a book he happened to have.

SweetLucy: I'm telling you, the guy who did the translation was an idiot, "Les Clavicules de Salomon", he even got the title wrong... and most of the current editions are based on the French version. Like the description in page 106's pentacle. It could be argued that it needs to be done with a dove's quill and written with its blood, over a bull's skin parchment, yes...

Gabe's curiosity was piqued. Some other users were not answering, seeming to be fascinated, reading but not wanting to mar the monologue with obnoxious comments. He went over to his bookshelves, picked up a fancy tome, one with a velvet cover and golden letters. He opened it to page 106 and there it was... the French version on one side and on the opposite page, a translation. He typed back.

Gabe_n_receive: So? That's exactly what the text says, what is there left?

SweetLucy: Welcome, G. Yes, but the next part is where it goes all wrong. It says you should bask it in the planetary's incense for the Balance sign.

Gabe_n_receive: Well, mine is a bit less obscure, it says you should smoke it with Venus' incense during Venus' hour.

SweetLucy: Then it's a different translation... from the same French source. The Balance's planet is Venus, indeed. But incense is all wrong. Venus is a planet regarded as one for love, sex, eroticism and instead of "incense", the word should've been "distilled essence". Basically, you should smear it with your essence.

Gabe_n_receive: You mean I should come all over the thing?

SweetLucy: Or place your wet fingers on it if you're a woman.

Gabe_n_receive: Are you serious?! What gave you this idea? I'd type "lol" if I were the kind to do so.

SweetLucy: I happen to have one of the few translations done from the original text, rather than the French translation. And I'd rather have a good orgasm than a good laugh over something.

Gabriel squirmed a bit. And there he had thought his hormones had gone still. Well, he WAS typing away clad in nothing but a towel.

Gabe_n_receive: You probably have a fake one, then. Wasn't it burned with a bunch of other books that were deemed heretical?

SweetLucy: You seem to know your history. But there were always copies that survived.

Gabe_n_receive: Ah, a working, original version that escaped the fires. Don't they all say so? What makes you think that it's the correct version and not a phony one?

SweetLucy: I tried it - successfully.

Gabe_n_receive: Oh. Wow.

SweetLucy: "Wow" because you picture a goth chick fingering herself over a magic symbol or because I said I was successful?

Gabe_n_receive: Well, thanks, now I am picturing it. Care to match it with a description? And, you're telling me it works?

SweetLucy: The effects won't match the ones on your translation... And... let your imagination fly. The kind of goth even a proper Mr. Smith would bang silly, if you'd like.

Gabe_n_receive: Count me as a skeptic. Not on the fingering part, mind you. But if you want to delve into the details, by all means...

SweetLucy: Ah, a skeptic, mature version that escaped the believers. Don't they all say so? ;) Anyway, have to leave. If you try it, think of me.

To say Gabriel was stirred would be a huge understatement. Between his curiosity and horniness (heavily nourished with a fresh goth chick image) he thought "why not?". He had a box full of materials used for magic rituals he had bought in his high school days when he believed in magic. He hadn't gotten rid of it and had even moved it with him. Before his interest became one of skepticism mingled with some other kind of thirst for knowledge that could be completely useless, still, quite alluring.

Naio Ssaion's 'Bow link in E minor' was too distracting, so he lowered the volume and started his work. He chuckled. Lion's skin - that one had come at a high price plus a few motherly lectures against his 'satanic rituals'. Mole's skin... there it was. Bull's skin. He skimmed over the small flasks, selected dove blood and skin.

When he opened the dove blood flask, Verdin almost vomited. Gee, who would've thought dove blood would spoil from years of room-temperature storage? He dipped the quill quickly and copied the sign, feeling somewhat like a fool while doing it.

It was 10:40 pm. For a Tuesday, if he wasn't mistaken, Venus's hour was 23:00-00:00; he barely had time, had to be done with the drawing before 11pm so he could... finish the ritual. After he was satisfied with the copy of the symbol, he went ahead and undid his towel. He looked down at his own body.

While not broad and muscular like underwear models, he could see a hint of his abdominal muscles, his pectorals were defined enough, his arms were slender but with enough muscle and a nice shape. His almost straight hair reached his chin, a dark brown that matched his eyes. What was he missing that would make Alice want him to fuck her silly?

As he was stroking himself, he couldn't get hard. He went back and tried to get inspired by music. Something without subtlety was needed, and NIN's 'Closer' was chosen. Still no luck... until a very precise and detailed image came to his mind: a dark room with velvety curtains and quite a few candles. It was much more magical than his brightly illuminated room and, in the center, a girl with piercing blue eyes was breathing rapidly. She was maybe twenty something, he couldn't judge her age. She had this pair of boots that could've kicked the shit out of anyone if well used and... a dragon-of-sorts necklace. She wore nothing else. Her hair was so black it had to be dyed. Her breasts were nicely shaped, and full enough for his tastes and one hand was caressing her side, never quite touching them as if they were too sensitive. Her other hand, however, was buried between her legs, moving at a slow, leisurely pace.

When she sighed, she closed her eyes for a second while her hips moved involuntarily just a bit. As the sigh was ending, he noticed she had a single piercing on her lip. Now, a lip piercing wasn't something that would've turned him on normally, but he made an exception for her. She purred as her hand moved faster. Though he couldn't see her exploring her own folds, she seemed delicate enough while doing it, yet, with an undeniable hunger he hadn't seen on any girl before.

The girl whimpered as her right hand went nearly still. She had to be gently twisting her clit, if he could guess anything at all from his view. As if rewarding herself for being so patient, she allowed her left hand to touch her breast. Then, all tenderness of her self-loving evaporated. Without further exploration, she fiercely pinched her nipple, gasping as her right hand went back to moving, this time at a furious pace.

She began to moan as her left hand went to her other breast and repeated the rough treatment awarded to the first nipple and her right hand went to an almost blurring speed. Her voice was on the verge of screaming, as her vocalizations could hardly be considered moaning any more. She sounded like she was about to cry and sob, yet so aroused... and the shivers began as that cry-pleasure moan increased in volume. There was a strange beauty to this girl's orgasm as she whimpered during the aftershocks.

Panting, the goth girl took a hand up to her face for inspection. She glanced at Gabriel and smiled. Her eyes were entrancing; one was blue, the other between green and light brown, bewitching. Still smiling at Gabriel, she licked a single finger, her lip piercing glinting in the low light.

Snapping out of his trance, Gabriel felt the beginning of his orgasm and he did his best to aim at the center of the symbols. He let out a low-pitched grunt as he felt his body tense and the jets of cum begin. Whereas the first shots were true, the last one was so feeble his hand was partially soiled with his semen.

Suddenly, he felt like the silliest, dorkiest man in the world. Here he was, kneeling in front of a 7-pointed star drawn in stinking dove blood on bull skin, a puddle of his freshly produced semen on top of it and nothing was happening. He hadn't exactly expected a dark cloud of smoke or an eerie glow from what he had drawn, but, deep down inside, he had wanted to believe Sweet Lucy.

But, now he felt like a dolt. Sheepishly, Gabriel picked up his towel, quickly wrapped it around his waist and put everything back in its place. He left his magical experiment to dry as he thought he might take a picture of it, upload it anonymously and show it to SweetLucy, then ask her if she was proud of how ridiculous he had looked just after his orgasm hit and blood returned to his brain.

He switched the lights off, cleaned his now limp penis as best as he could in the dark bathroom and went to sleep in the nude. He didn't feel like wearing anything at all. His last orgasm had left him a bit weak in the knees. Had it been that good? Or, was it that he was kneeling during the whole act? Who knew. He turned off his portable player's dock, right in the middle of The Octopus Project's 'The Way Things Go'.

As Gabriel plugged his cell phone into the charger, he noticed there was a small warning sign on it. It was a bug he hadn't been able get rid of ever since he had downloaded a morally-dubious app; sometimes it wouldn't recognize any contact at all and he had to restart the phone before the numbers were assigned to his contacts.

As he was about to press the "power" button, he got a message. It was from a local number that seemed familiar, but not Alice's. Maybe it was his best buddy, Pete's... It had been a few years now since he memorized phone numbers. He opened it.

"I put on a hell of a show, don't I, babe? ;)"

His brain numbed with exhaustion, he couldn't remember any show, other than his girlfriend's cockteasing, so he simply texted back "wrong number" and promptly placed his head on the pillow.

Not even five seconds had gone by when he had an answer.

"pretty sure u enjoyed watching me, Gabe."

...the fuck?

"Who are you?"

"...I DO taste sweet, if u r wondering, Gabriel. should I call u Gabe_n_receive?"

Holy shit. His fingers trembled as he typed his answer.

"sweetlucy?"

"smart. saw u in a towel w ur drippin hair n damp body. made me so wet... didnt have 2 look 4 more inspiration 2 touch myself"

Strangely enough, he thought of the Twilight saga. How the fuck did Bella think it was sexy to be watched by someone, even if that person was hot? HOW THE FUCK did she not feel creeped out like there was no tomorrow?

He turned the lights on. His room seemed normal enough, no spaces where a camera could've been placed while he was away, his curtains were closed as always...

"Hmmm... Cute, I like your expression of controlled fear and a good amount of aggressiveness," her decidedly feminine voice sounded soft, smoky and drop dead sexy. And, it sounded as if she was right beside him.

Gabriel Verdin had to really hand it to himself for not squealing like a little girl right then.

"I'd suck you dry if you kept looking at me like that," the voice said with a small, womanly chuckle. There was this strange, subtle accent on the consonants that made her voice sound more attractive, exotic.

And then came the scent. It was kind of flowery, but with a hint of dead leaves as well. However, the real highlight was the dense whiff of a woman, but not a woman in a normal state. It was the essence of a very aroused, very wet woman.

When Gabriel noticed that his penis was starting to harden just from the aroma, he reprimanded himself, Really? A stalker is in your apartment watching you jerk off over a magic drawing and you're getting aroused? How about confronting her, dumbass?

He spun around to find nothing.

"You want to see me? Very well."

In front of him was his bed. And then, without further ado, a woman appeared. No sparkles, no blinding lights, she just was there as if she had been sitting on his bed all along.

It was the goth girl, only... not so goth now. There was no piercing, her hair was a mesmerizing honey color, she wore no necklace or boots, but her eyes were unmistakable: one blue and one brown-green. And, small detail, she was quite nude. She eyed him appreciatively as her eyes drank in every inch of him. When she glanced over his manhood, she nodded appreciatively.

There had been enough surprises for Gabriel, this time he didn't jump or freeze, he simply asked away, sounding far calmer than he had intended:

"What are you?"

"Nice. None of the usual 'Am I dreaming?' 'Is this real?' or 'Is this a joke?' questions. You adapt quickly. And you are harder... I swear, your cock looks so delicious I'd be delighted to kiss it, lick it tenderly and then suck it so good you'll never want it to end."

His erection twitched along with his line of thought, but he wasn't deterred.

"You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't say no!" She exclaimed and gulped as if she was already savoring his dick, making him breathe out of rhythm. "Call me an inhabitant of the inferior astral reality", she said.