Fucking with a DEMON!

Fucking with a DEMON!

一

The coronavirus is everywhere. The non-stop media coverage, the hysteria, like it could be Armageddon.

The end of days, end of the world. Coronapocalypse!

And all I can think is that I'm too young to die! I can't die, at least not yet, I don't want to die without ever having sex!

That's right. I'm a virgin.

Not that I don't want it, or that I'm a Tim Tebow religious type of douchebag, or that I haven't tried, but, sadly, I've yet to do - "IT."

I'm a virgin, a fucking incel.

And with the virus wreaking havoc, maybe I won't even have the chance!

At 18, too, yeah, it's embarrassing. There's no one I can confide in, either. I can't tell any of my friends because they'd totally rake me over the coals. I don't even wanna think of how savagely they'd roast me if they knew...

My friends are assholes, as would be expected of them, being jocks, guys on the college football team, D-1. My teammates, bros are all banging cheerleaders, but, for me, as the kicker, even though I won 4 games last season with my foot, and kicked us into a national ranking, and televised bowl game, it's always the quarterback, receivers, linebackers getting the girly action.

With the ladies, like in football, I'm mostly on the sidelines watching. Sitting on the bench.

While I've had some success on the field, with the females, my moment of glory has yet to arrive. And now, with the Four Horsemen riding in, with shit about to go all Walking Dead, I might die in incel ignominy.

Not that I never touched a girl, though. I've made out a few times. Swapped spit and got my hands up a few shirts.

Not that long-ago I finger-banged a fire-hot, petite, high-cheek boned, chocolate eyed, super-sexy Filipina chick from my college algebra class.

Driving her home from the library, we took a naughty detour to the far end of the campus and climbed into the comfy leather backseat of my Suburban.

Behind the privacy of darkly tinted windows, we melted into the butterscotch colored interior and were instantly locking lips, and next thing I knew, I had her yoga pants down, and my camo shorts fell too, my rock-hard dick popping out, my erect cock drooling pre-cum as her small brown hand was lightly stroking and tickling my wet mushroom tip.

I'd hooked my hands to the waistband of her underwear, was ready to peel off her tiger-print panties and stab into her sweet pussy's sugar walls, but then her phone rang, and I had to rush her home.

Being a "good" Catholic girl, she felt guilty about it and objurgated me. Wouldn't go out with me again, saying that I'm possessed by the devil, which, for real, maybe is true...

You see, something's been in me, overtaking me, ever since me and my folks moved into the mansion my parents bought at a hefty discount, because of it being allegedly haunted...

Some background perhaps is in order...

The mansion, a massive structure, built from beige quartzite stone, was designed to look like a castle and has a conical front-facing turret, three chimneys, and a Roman-style spouting fountain in the front-facing roundabout.

Inside the mansion is all marble flooring, and intricate, lush wood paneling walling, and super-high, vaulted ceilings, floor to ceiling windows in nearly every room.

Built on massive stone foundations, at the peak of a mountain, it eats up a sizable chunk of sky, and towers mightily, dwarfing the glittering glass spiral towers, square clumps of rowhouses, McMansions and suburban sprawl of the city below.

The massive, medieval style manor had been abandoned for years. The owner, who'd built it, was a CEO of a pizza franchise, and had embezzled a ton of cash from his company.

He'd also been having an affair with his oldest daughter, a busty college girl, a goth, Suicide Girl cam-chick, an online model, who'd attended my college, actually.

Once the CEO was facing legal charges, and was ousted from his company, he and his daughter, ironically, committed suicide together, swallowing a big bottle of Oxycontin; the two taboo lovers found nude and motionless together in the master bedroom, by his wife, the girl's mother.

(Unsurprisingly, the Suicide Girl's social media, tribute pages skyrocketed in popularity afterwards, and she'd become a viral sensation. And yes, I did view and jerk off to her pics...)

In addition, it came to light that the grounds the mansion was built on used to house gallows, where a series of witches were hung back in colonial times...

The house, and grounds, with their infamy, was understandably difficult to sell, and sat empty for nearly a decade, until my father, upon having success of his own in the corporate world, decided to buy and renovate it.

Not that I believe much in ghosts, but there's a strange energy in the house and its multi-acre grounds. Before it was renovated, it'd been a morbid tourist attraction, and in the woods nearby, there'd been a series of suicides. The fucking place like our city's answer to the forest by Mount Fuji...

After buying the property, we tore out the spot where the old master bedroom was, remodeled it and transformed it into an outdoor garden featuring a bevy of exotic flowers and plants. Despite the effort, though, it still has this eerie vibe to it, that garden, and even in the summer, even when it's boiling hot outside, the garden always has a prickly cold touch to it...

And the house, too, has its energy and movements. There're strange sounds in the house, knocks and footsteps, lights flickering, shutting on and off without reason.

I swear I saw the girl, the Suicide Girl, several times at night. She appeared in hazy mist, an ambrosial waft swirling in the evening air, as the maiden, walking nude, aimlessly, lapped around the winding hallways, with her lips pursed, black rose tattoos carved into her washboard midriff, blood red dragon tats running up her thighs; her perky bell-shaped tits glowing like orbs; silvery glints bouncing in sparks from her facial piercings; her phantom figure so translucent that her pallid skin was whiter than smoke...

The ghostly vision had both aroused and repelled me... Terrifyingly hot, she was a GILF. Ghost I'd Like to Fuck! Being a horny 18 y/o virgin, especially facing the end of days, the plague and that, I'd have wrecked that witchy spirit ass, fucked the shit out of that supernatural pussy...

I told my father, not about fucking the ghost, but seeing it, and Pops, ever the skeptic, refused to believe it, refused to bow to superstition, and was apathetic anyway, him being basically an absentee landlord, his job having him gone on business most of the year.

Mother was often traveling, too, for pleasure, and waved my visions off with a swatting gesture, not wanting to pay any attention to such "hogwash."

(Much like she'd said of the coronavirus at its outset, that it was a hoax, before later labeling it a "gift" from God to thin out the population...)

But, similar to the virus showing its teeth, the house has its etiology as well; there's definitely something to it, in its genesis, its effect, because everyone, my mom, dad, me and sister, has changed since moving in...

My father has gotten older, grayer, aging at a rapid rate, and he's grown colder, more distant, often staring off into the distance when not on his tablet, dealing with business-related matters, stock price charts or pie graphs.

Mother has gotten more depressed, and got FAR larger, like Lizzo size, eating like a farm animal and drinking like a fish, damn near a bottle of pricey red wine per day.

(I've begun to suspect my father of having an affair; his interest in my cow of a mother understandably waning, and I've noticed him leering more and more at my smoking hot sister...)

For me, I've become more focused on football and am kicking the fuck out of the pigskin, have never kicked better, am kicking like a Kung Fu master, and after only my freshman campaign, there's been talk of NFL scouts looking at me, that I could one day be a late-round draft pick.

But despite my promising career prospects, when I'm not thinking football, my thoughts have gotten sinister, wildly more sexual. Particularly towards my sister...

My sister, oh, my sister. The debutante, herself involved in college sports, gymnastics, as well as dance, ballet, which explains her flawless hourglass form, her goddess body of perfect, chiseled proportions.

Not that I see her much, though, because, until recently, she's rarely been home, and has grown up in boarding schools, specialized talent summer camps. But when I have seen her, ever since I recall, she's been a stuck-up bitch, a fucking cunt, looking down on me, sticking up her nose, acting like her perfectly spherical, wiggly round ass doesn't fucking stink.

The bitch.

I've always wanted to fuck her, sure, but after moving into the house, my thoughts have turned to hate-fucking her, surprise fucking her, creeping up behind her, hard dick poking out of my pants, my dick like a spear, me pinning her to a wall, taking her from behind, ninja-fucking the bitch, putting the cunt in a full nelson and twisting her like a pretzel as I ream balls-deep into her stink monkey...

I'd never had such explicit thoughts, prismatic hate-fuck visions, until moving into the house, and when the thoughts fog in, a different voice speaks to me, a voice with an angrier, harsher timbre. It's a buzzsaw of a voice, giving me ideas I don't want to have, but that I can't gray out; the visions of violently hate-fucking my cunt of a sister, the visions consuming me and stiffening my cock, forcing me to masturbate to soften the edge.

(Here and there, at a demon's prodding, I've been sneaking into her room, stealing and sniffing at her panties, and running them over my dick, using them to whack off, while staring and sneering at her vanity pictures adorning the walls. There I'll stand, in her room, drinking in the scent of bitch, that bitch scent, scent of nail polish, beauty products and young fresh cunt floating in the room's air, and I'll jerk off, imagine primate-fucking my sister raw...)

My sister... the bombshell blond, she's changed too. Become more withdrawn. When home, she's started dressing in more revealing attire- hotter hot pants, fishnet stockings and plunging décolletage half-shirts and in styles darkly sexy, slightly more "goth" as opposed to her prior, basic bitch preppy sorority girl chic, and she's gotten into listening to synthpop, Mr. Kitty and The Birthday Massacre, and vintage metal, early AC/DC, Metallica and Slayer instead of much of the Justin Bieber shit she'd been into previously.

She'll wear a lot of rock band shirts, too, and paints her nails opal shades, and cakes on loads of smudgy black lipstick. heavy rouge on her rosy cheeks. I've noticed that she'll sneak out of the house a lot too, slip into this red Bugatti Veyron that revs, zooms and roars off into the black of night.

I can only imagine what she's been doing. Probably something involving dick. Sex. Partying. Thinking of her out banging dudes only makes me want to fuck her more...

二

As for my sex life, there's not much to discuss, after the Catholic girl, that rough experience; after that, I've not dated much, aside from a brief encounter with a drunk chick at a frat party; the last party I went to before the virus outbreak...

This crazy chick, a short, olive skin, early 20 something honey with hefty melon-tits, damn near DD-cups, and shoulder length purple hair, and hot pants cut so high they exposed the edge of her white cotton panties; this nutty chick, like a ninja, stealthily snuck up behind me, pulled and twirled me around by the shirt collar, and chastised me, her voice slurry, screaming, "Chad, whurh've you FUCKING been!?"

To that my eyes bulged, and I replied that I "wasn't Chad."

"You're fucking Chad, you asshole!" she shouted. "STOP lying!" she implored, grappling me, taking two fistfuls of my cinnamon colored polo shirt into her claws and shoving me backwards, into an open closet.

After we entered, and I nearly stumbled over a bucket and some cleaning supplies, she propped me up against the wall, and a couple bros, walking by and laughing at my predicament, pointed at me, and one of them stuck out and wagged his tongue and slammed shut the door to the closet.

It was dark, but enough light trickled in from the door's rectangle edges that I could make out the crazy chick dropping to her knees.

The thumping bassline from "HUMBLE" came on, and I heard the dance floor erupt in howls; the rhythms of the bass and hard beat vibrating through me as the purple chick then unbuckled my pants, unbuttoned the waistband, unzipped the fly, twisted my pants down to my feet. My boxers followed the same trajectory, layering the pile, becoming ankle bracelets.

The purple hair chick affixed her hands to my bare, rippling thighs, bowed her head forward and began aggressively tonguing my balls, licking and then lightly sucking on them.

The sensation was amazing. Next thing I knew, between slurps, she muttered, "Chad, you piece of shit," and then gulped my now throbbing hot and heavy prick directly into her hot/cold mouth, bobbing her head back and forth on it, vacuuming and deep-throating it.

Her lips were puffy, Angelina Jolie big, and the sensation of them gliding on my cock was incredible. It was the first time I'd had a blowjob. Being introduced to oral by a pro like this was quite the welcome.

She quickened, sucking faster and harder, almost too hard, and a mixture of pleasure and pain caused me to squirm, wince and tap her on the head, tapping out like my cock was in an MMA submission hold.

Taking the cue, she eased up, let my dick out of her mouth, held it in her hands and began jerking it, with both hands, like she was milking a cow, and she stuck out her tongue, shook her head from side to side, wagging and twirling her tongue wildly, licking at my glans, driving me wild, making my toes curl and clench. Then she inhaled the entirety of my cock once again, drinking it in, splendidly, the slut's playful tongue, buttery lips and swirling saliva enveloping me, from my dick to the length of my spine, in decadent bliss, and I succumbed.

I grasped her temples tightly and blasted a money shot deep into her throat.

Not skipping a beat, or drop of my load, she swallowed enthusiastically. Every last gooey fucking bit.

She continued sucking after I'd finished, for another 20 seconds or so, and then unloosed my semi-hard dick, clutched it and polished off the tip, sponging up any trace of the post-cum.

A true cum slut!

Then she wiped her mouth with her right forearm, stood up, poked me in the chest, playfully, and said, "Look, dude, I know you're not Chad. He's my boyfriend. I spotted him getting a blowjob from some pigtailed Harley Quinn wannabe-bitch. This was revenge. Don't take it personally."

I was happy to help, and, still out of breath, panting, from the amazing oral work she'd done, I muttered, "Uh, okay, no problem. Happy to help anytime..."

"If you see Chad, don't tell him, though. Or I WILL NEVER talk to you again!" she warned me, poking my chest again, this time much harder.

Finding her way out of the closet, she opened the door and wafts of vape smoke and grayish light from the party poured in and Purple Hair blew a kiss sarcastically at me and waved goodbye...

三

Other than that, um, unique experience, though, I've been striking out with the ladies. No chicks wanting to bang the kicker.

I've given Tinder a whirl but am getting nowhere fast, so I've been jerking off like mad, usually to the thought of hate-fucking my sister or flashing back to the icy hot BJ I got that night, in that dark closet, the party-house shaking, my bones rattling to the bump of the bass as the random crazy slut sucked me into another dimension.

Oh fuck, the tenderness of her hair, its fluffy softness, as I crawled my fingers through her silky purple curls, her magical tongue flittering and flicking...

I get hard practically anytime I think of that crazy purple chick... Her brain like a scholar...

Occasionally I'll imagine that mouth being my sister's, thinking of the curvature of my sister's full lips, their geometrical shape and how they'd glide over my dick, engulf it. My sexy sister's perfectly symmetrical face, drinking in my thick, stiff cock.

I'll think of me hiding in the pantry, jumping out and ambushing her in the kitchen; me grabbing a clump of her hair, jumping up on the counter and mouth-fucking her, her flashbulb eyes darting around, on the look out for our parents, worried they might catch us...

That's a favorite fantasy of mine, taking her mouth. Of course I've dreamed of her golden pussy too, but never thought I'd get into it.

However, with the apocalypse arriving, anything could happen...

I've been back home for the last week because college closed due to the virus spreading in my area, and there isn't much going on other than isolated small group, distanced football practice.

Everywhere classes, events, parties are canceled; the city's a ghost town, hardly any traffic at night when I drive back to the house from practice.

Despite the creepiness of being in a cursed dwelling during a plague outbreak, the house is fucking colossally big and luxurious, which makes it a pretty beast spot for a quarantine.

And it's gotten even nicer since a few days ago, when my older sister came home, her school as well being canceled.

My sister, Sandy, the cunt with the sweet ass, recently celebrated her 21st birthday alone in her sorority house bedroom before it got closed, posting pissed off pics about it on her Instagram, fishing for sympathy... Boo-fucking-hoo, bitch...

Although, like I said, I generally detest her, truth is that I don't know her too well; we'd never been close growing up, because of my parents shipping her off to a series of elite boarding schools since kindergarten.

But I have certainly spent enough time with her for me to label her a snobby bitch. That I can confirm beyond a doubt.

I'd always resented her. How she'd been preened. How she walked in elongated steps and strides.

Though, as I experienced puberty, the way I viewed her, my perspective, my gaze, shifted drastically into a different manifestation of hate...

I started to notice how hot she is. How fine and tight her body is, its curves, peaks and shapes.

Sandy's basically perfect-looking. Flawless.

She's tall, with creamy, ivory white skin. And she's thin, but athletic. Nothing could be prettier than her face, especially the arches and contours of her heavenly high cheekbones. Fuck, she has a beautiful, round face and these huge sparkly bright blue eyes. Her facial structure could be studied by plastic surgeons, beauticians. Her hair is most radiant, too, lush and curly platinum blond medium length, styled immaculately with sexy face framing fringe.

Her shapely legs go on for miles and her figure is curvy yet firm, with her tight, toned tummy and perfectly perky C-cup sized teardrop tits. From behind as well she's aesthetically pleasing, as sports, dance, and exercise have bestowed upon her a gloriously voluptuous, well-rounded rear that stands magnificently high and is terrifically taut.

Something about her look reminds me of Marilyn Monroe. My sister is slightly taller and thinner, but there is, for sure, an uncanny resemblance...

Simply put, my sister is a FOX. A fucking harridan in training, a superbitch, but a fox.

Ever since I began to beat off, she's prominently featured in my fantasies. Fantasies that've only intensified...

Besides my recent mental visions of suck-offs, I've forever been having a recurring romp, in my mind, of me and my sister in the shower, me standing behind her, plowing into her forbidden pussy, my pelvis clapping at her sculpted, athletic ass, me cupping her bulging tits, our wet bodies in motion, us under the rain shower, slapping skin...