I Dream of Demie Ch. 20

Detective Dianna Shepherd found a chair in "the bullpen", the main briefing room of the police station. She had been working in her office when she got the email. What was this about?

The department captain walked in from the side door. "Hello, everyone, please have a seat. I'm sorry to say that Detective Aaron Bilson, who had been on medical leave, has passed away." There were a few gasps from the other officers, and the captain waited before continuing. "After he failed to return to duty yesterday, calls were made and officers finally went to check in on him yesterday evening. They found he had expired in his bed a number of days ago. The ME's initial analysis points to heart failure."

Shepherd thought for a moment. Bilson had been a homophobic, mysogynistic asshole, but she hadn't wished him dead. Well, not for more than a few minutes at a time. Heart attack made sense; he had been overweight, certainly not up to the fitness level expected of a police officer.

"You never knew when you're gonna go, huh?" One of the other female officers whispered to Shepherd. Dianna nodded.

"Dismissed," said the captain.

--

I dropped in on Monday and Hepzibah - we were calling her Zee now - to find out how they'd been doing over the last week. Monday had been tossing food to the overprotective harpy from the bedroom door, but with her not leaving her egg for even a moment, his bedroom was now carpeted with harpy dung. He'd taken to hanging up air fresheners everywhere so now it smelled like someone ate a pine tree before taking a shit. I gagged, bought a bag of weed, and left.

As I walked home I had the feeling that I was being followed. I looked around but didn't notice anyone acting suspiciously. As I passed a park I heard a hiss from the nearby bushes.

"Tom!"

I approached the bushes and saw a small, hairy gray woman crouched in them.

"Konnie!"

"Hello Tom," she said, blinking her adorable dark eyes at me, "I have newth for you...and Demie."

--

When I got home I passed on Konnie's news to Demie, that the pukwudgie network had found Demie's brother, Eros, a couple days' drive away.

"Good timing...I have just the thing," Demie said, grinning.

--

"Where did you find *this*?" I marveled as a 1967 Chevy Chevelle, black with a deep red interior, pulled up, its engine purring. It showed some wear and tear, but it was a miracle that this thing even ran at its age.

"It was an old...friend's," she replied cagily.

A slim brunette woman in tight coveralls, probably in her late 20's, got out of the car.

"Thanks, Elle!" Demie pecked the woman on the cheek and dropped a roll of cash into her hand.

"No problem, Demie...glad to get to work on one of these!" She winked at me. "Hey there."

"Hey," I replied. Elle had a smudge of grease on her chin, which somehow made her even cuter. She looked at me, waiting. "Oh, I'm Tom. Sorry, was just distracted."

She turned to the car, giving me a vantage on her tight ass in those coveralls. "Yeah, she's a beaut, huh?"

I smiled and looked back up at her face as she turned back. "The car, right."

I noticed Elle give me a once-over with her eyes. "Well, nice meeting you, Tom. Delivery's done, and I'm off. Seeya!"

As Elle hailed an Uber, I popped the trunk and handed my suitcase to Kate. Wait, what?

The trunk was now the entrance to Kate's lab! I poked my head in and felt that same claustrophobia that usually accompanied entering my broom closet, and then I was looking at the stone walls of Kate's lab. Kate took the opportunity to steal a kiss. I stole it back, and then we spent a minute or so playing tonsil hockey until the car horn sounded. I winked at Kate and pulled back.

Closing the trunk lid, I saw Demie was sitting on the passenger side.

I was driving? I was driving! I practically jumped into the cushy bucket seat.

"I'm assuming you can handle stick?" she asked.

I looked down at the ivory-handled shifter. "I learned on my dad's midlife crisis Ford Mustang. It's like riding a bike, right?"

Demie shrugged. "I never learned how to ride a bike, much less drive a car." I resolved that she'd learn the latter on this trip.

It took some grinding of gears, but it came back to me. I called into my office to declare myself sick for the rest of the week, and then we were on the open road.

--

After it got dark we stopped at a roadside bar for some beer and pub grub. Demie said she'd go do her own feeding, and I didn't want to hear any details as she strode off into the night. Kate looked thoughtful when I asked if she'd come join me, but ultimately said she'd stay in her lab instead. Well, her loss...

Despite the state's inside smoking law, the bar smelled like an ashtray. I sat at a table, sipped my beer, and played about on my phone while I waited for my food.

It hadn't been busy when I came in, but it had suddenly gotten even quieter. I looked around and spied a bunch of people scrambling out the back. Then someone stepped up to my table.

I turned and looked up...waaaay up.

He wasn't wearing his sunglasses this time, but the bald head and bushy red moustache was unmistakable: Man-mountain!

I had encountered the huge biker I had nicknamed that a while ago at another bar back in town. It hadn't ended well for him.

"Shit..." I groaned. This wouldn't end well for me without Demie!

The monolithic figure reached forward and picked me up by the front of my shirt like I was a child and looked around exaggeratedly. "I don't see no Jessica Alba this time, boy. How 'bout we finish what we started a few weeks ago?" He was referring to Demie, who had taken the form of the sexy actress and wrecked this guy, and then his gang when they jumped in. Not waiting for my answer, he hauled me over to the front door and shoved me through it.

"Now wait just a..." I managed to get out before his size 13 boot practically caved in my chest. I flew back and slammed into a car. Shit, that hurt! "...aaugh..."

He grabbed me again and then I was flying into another car. This time my shoulder took the impact. A moment later I was lifted up and slammed back down onto a car hood. I saw man-mountain raise his fist up to finish me off. I closed my eyes...

Bap! Ow! That hurt, but nowhere near what it should have. I looked up...

...and then back down.

Standing before me, practically drowning in biker gear, was a redheaded boy who looked about 13, his face pockmarked red with teenage acne. He was looking at his hands, the fingers barely extending beyond the palms of his fingerless gloves.

"What...? What...?!" he mumbled in a teenage voice devoid of the rumbling menace of his adult form.

I heard a car trunk close off to the side and saw the Chevelle where I had parked it. Kate had saved me! I sat back up, groaning. "We done?" I asked little boy-mountain.

"What the fuck did you do, pissant?!" The kid came forward menacingly, but with the change in voice he sounded kinda pathetic.

I got to my feet and slapped him across the face.

He reeled back, holding his cheek. "Fuck!"

Click! Now he had a switchblade in his hand. Even a teenager could still be dangerous with a knife! I ran to the Chevelle, but couldn't get my keys out in time, so I ran to the other side of the car. Now it was between us.

He ran to my left. I ran to the right. He changed direction, and so did I.

"C'mon, you fucking coward!" he yelled.

"Coward? You're the one who brought a knife to a fist fight!" I called back, out of breath.

"This your fucking car?" The kid raised the blade to slash at it. No!

Then Demie was there, holding the boy's forearm. I hadn't even seen her approaching. "Nobody damages the Chevelle, kid. I went through too much to get it."

The kid struggled. "Let me go!" Then he swooned. A moment later, he shot back up to his six-foot-infinity adult form, though Demie still had a hold of his arm.

"Oh, it's you!" she said in Jessica Alba's voice.

Man-mountain stared down at Jessica Alba in shock. "You?"

"Me," she replied, and then casually broke his arm.

--

We got the hell out of there before the cops showed up to find the massive biker holding his fractured arm and babbling about getting beaten up by Jessica Alba again. Jessica's eyes waggled at me from the passenger seat. "Wanna blowjob while you drive?"

I pulled over. "Nope, but you can drive and I'm going to thank Kate for the save." Demie had ended the fight but had really acted to save the car, not me. She morphed back into her normal human form and sidled over into the driver's seat. I had given her some lessons a few hours ago, and I hoped that they were enough that she wouldn't wreck the classic car.

I clambered into the trunk and through the portal into Kate's lab, pulling the lid closed behind me. Brown-haired Kate came around the corner, naked, her usual state when alone in her lab, and I eyed the curvy 19-year-old body she had taken possession of just a few weeks ago.

"Oh! Tom..."

I leapt forward and kissed her soundly. "Thanks for the save, darlin'."

With our close contact she felt my hard cock pressing against her. "My pleasure," she said as she reached down and started stroking it through my jeans. "Come with me..." she urged as we headed to her bedroom.

She lay back on her soft bed and my face went straight between her thighs. "Ahh..." she moaned as my tongue speared her pussy. I may not be able to have vaginal sex with her or she'd lose her power along with her virginity, but I was going to make sure that she got the attention she deserved down there! Soon, with my tongue inside her and my fingers manipulating her clit, she came.

After she had recovered, she turned over. I used my hand to transfer some of her juices from my face to my cock and pushed it into her puckered butthole.

"Ohh...Tommm..." she moaned, "I love youuu..."

"I know," I replied as I shoved all the way inside. Yeah, I Han Solo'd her. I liked her, didn't love her, and her love wasn't real anyway due to a misfired love potion, but she seemed happy with the arrangement as it was.

I reached down and thrummed her clit again as I sawed my cock into her rectum. Butt sex wasn't my favorite, but I was having a lot of it since Kate's love potion mishap. I wondered how long it would last. I never asked; I was afraid of the answer. Maybe for the rest of our lives? But I would get old while she remained youthful. Would she still love me when I was old and gray? Would she pine for me after I was dead?

"Tom?"

I had slowed my thrusting, distracted by my dark thoughts. I gingerly pulled out and laid down next to her. She joined me, looking at my face with worry. I asked her the question I had been dreading.

She pulled herself up on one elbow. "It'll last until you die. As your sex drive slows down as you get older, my love for you will likewise become less passionate to match, but I'll still love you...like an old married couple." She smiled at me. "If you're worried about me looking like your granddaughter thirty years from now, I can let this body age normally so that doesn't happen."

I kissed her. Suddenly I was very tired, and my ribs, back, and shoulder ached. I could barely keep my eyes open.

She caressed my face. "Rest," she advised, and I slipped away into dreams.

--

I was driving a car, a topless roadster, sleek and silver, along strangely smooth green-gray roads. Demie was in the seat beside me, holding a silver clothes iron; you know, as you do when driving. Houses and then hotels passed by on our right as we drove into the well-to-do part of town.

I pulled over at a newspaper stand. They still had those? Demie paid for a paper, but when she brought it closer it shrank, becoming business card sized. She read it.

"It's for you," she said, holding it out. Wild Card, it said on one side.

I took the card and turned it over. A masculine, demonic red face looked back at me. Suddenly a huge, muscled arm shot out from the card, grabbing my throat, squeezing...

I woke up, gasping. My chest hurt. Kate had rolled over on top of me in her sleep, one C-cup breast pressing into where man-mountain had kicked me.

Fuck, I had some crazy dreams these days.

To be continued...