I Stalk the Succubus Pt. 03: The Swarm

In most of my work I am tracking and dispatching succubi. That is, I am assigned one of these deadly creatures and I seek them out and devise a plan to use their insatiable hunger for sex to defeat them. However, from time to time they naturally wish to get rid of me. In that case, I can find myself unexpectedly fending off one, or more, of these provocative predators.

Not long after my last successful mission I found myself subject to just such an attack. But this time it wasn't a single savvy opponent, it was The Swarm.

Perhaps I should have been more cautious; seen the signs. Since I didn't have an assigned quarry that week I was allowing myself some deserved R & R in a Caribbean resort; one of those places with the open cabanas facing a sugar-sand beach; a place where soft reggae music was always playing, and healthy young people brought you drinks and snacks in exchange for a few beads.

It was half-season, the possibility of a hurricane on the distant horizon, and so the clientele was a bit light, but choice nonetheless: some newlyweds and what seemed like youngish business singles on a post Labor Day break. Many seemed to know each other, the gals hanging out in happy stoned groups by the pool, or playing beach volleyball in skimpy bikinis, or even topless.

There appeared to be a lot of casual couples, or at least business execs with their assistants and boy toys. Few obvious single women on the prowl, no one who looked like a pro seeking to get rich off the well-heeled clientele.

Another interesting factor was that the crowd grew at night, and these guests appeared to be locals because they were people of dark complexion with island accents. Okay, no problem. The Club appealed to well-off locals.

Perhaps the strongest clue that something was weird was that for three days virtually no one flirted with me at all. Now, to be a bit immodest, I am not the kind of figure to be ignored. My professional disguise is usually tricked out as a world-class athlete, either seriously muscled, or lean and lithe; somebody not to mess with, but somebody definitely to play with.

And everyone except the male waiters and towel boys ignored me. "Do they think I'm gay? Are they waiting for me to hire them to find me a mate?" A bit too quiet on the Western beach.

And many of the women looked me over as I lay on a lounge chair or in a shady pool cabana, but none strayed over to join me. No one sat lonely at the bar waiting for this wandering hunk to buy them a drink batting her eyelashes as a cute come-on. All the gaggles of girls seemed to be happy in each others' company. Almost all women were paired up.

At first this hands-off situation was just fine. When I'm not working, I often don't need any stimulation or release at all. In fact, it's a good idea if I systematically store up my juices for my next job. Still, it can get a little boring and lonely at a beach resort with no nooky, so I was getting a little restless.

It was copacetic three days in, when a couple of very curvy, very petite, very young gals spread out their straw mats not far from my lounge chair.

They sort of ignored me, and sort of put on a show, stretching and finding just the right spot, adjusting tiny bikinis, spreading lotion on each others' asses. Giggling. Playing with each others' hair.

"Do you like it up? I kind of like it up. I mean it's sexy flowing around your shoulders, but if you pull it up like this....I mean, I can put it in a french knot for you. You wanna try my new lip gloss?"

They touched each other just short of lesbian familiarity; like they knew each others' bodies, but weren't like that. "But still, doesn't this feel nice?"

I didn't pay a lot of attention; but it seemed that there were several BFFs who came and went near my favorite spot on the lanai; or anywhere else I chose to park myself. Perhaps I would have been more wary if a 'killer dame' or two had started flirting. But these bunnies just bounced around in their 'I just found out I'm sexy' way. No big thing. Except I could tell they were swiping glances at my big thing.

After a couple of days like this one of them, a curvy "Little Annie Fannie" style blonde with two short pony-tails, perched on the lounge chair next to me; sipped her pink drink; flipped through stuff on her mobile screen; walk down the steps into the pool until her hips were cool, then slowly came out and lounged again.

But after a while I was pleased to see her blocking my sunlight holding a bottle of suntan lotion.

"Ummm, excuse me, I'm Angie. Could I ask you a big favor and have you put some cream on my back? I can't reach there and I don't want to burn and have to spend my vaca on my tummy. Hmm?"

Big baby blues could melt butter.

"Sure, why not?"

So I'm stroking this creamy skin with not a freckle on it; and she is making sweet little dove-coo sounds that have a way of tickling something at the base of my balls. She is lying down with her ass tilted up so it is nice and obvious.

"You can put some lower down on my back. I won't think you are doing anything funny. After all, I asked you to do it. Oh yeah, that's great. Can you get the curved part below my bikini pants? I sometimes forget to do that 'cause I'm sitting on it. And maybe some on the backs of my legs. Oh, that's so good."

I'm watching my thick fingers press into her pale skin; and the way her ass and thighs shiver when I rub them. Something is definitely running my engine a little fast.

But suddenly she is up on an elbow and yelling to a friend:

"Bibi! Hey Bibi, get over here! You gotta let this guy put stuff on your back. His fingers are just magic! C'mon!"

So Bibi gets up, and she is this bouncy little Latina, definitely a little extra in the tetas y culo department; and she comes jiggling over and flops face down on the chaise on the other side of me.

"Okay, you can do her." Says Angie, handing me the lotion. And I squeeze some in my palm and start spreading it on Bibi's shoulders; and I get that part done, and then with one hand she points at her substantial ass, which is pretty much covered by nothing, and I apply lotion in a gentlemanly way while she wiggles and actually claps her cheeks a bit. But then she spreads her legs and points at them; and I apply cream to their backs.

And Angie, who is behind me, whispers: "She likes you to get the insides."

And who am I to argue with a lady and her friend? So I spread some stuff on those very soft caramel thighs. And she moans a little. And I am wondering if I dripped some lotion on her bikini just there, because it is kind of damp in that one spot.

So Bibi sits up and her eyes are a bit moist; and she looks across at Angie and says: "Maybe Catti needs some on her too? She can burn bad. Maybe quickly?" Angie nods and calls over to a pixie with a mop of red hair.

"Catriona, your back! Come! Quickly, before you burn!"

So Catti kind of wakes up out of a groggy nap and gives this mile-wide smile. And these huge green eyes just bewitch me as she walks over and switches places with Bibi. She is one of those women whose hips move so smooth you could swear they are oiled. This one is all over freckles, but on her they look like cinnamon sprinkles on angelfood cake. She lies down, but she looks at me with those big eyes as I fill my palm with the lotion, and she never stops looking at me.

"Please don't miss any spots, especially my feet." She murmurs in a Marilyn Monroe voice. "In fact, after you finish my back side I'd really appreciate if you would do my front. I'm sure you can see everything better than I can."

So when I have anointed every freckle that I can see, from the nape of her neck to the soles of her toes, she flips over and I am applying lotion from her forehead to her toenails. She pulls her tiny green bikini triangles aside so I can get most of the spots that are covered.

I have to confess here that I am getting drunk on touching all this nubile beauty. Of course, I don't realize until it hits me later that these gorgeous honeys are setting a trap for me, and that there is an intoxicant in the lotion I am spreading on them, a drug squeezed from the nipples of nursing succubi, and very potent indeed. It is only that I have been inoculated against it and have hidden antidotes that I am alive to tell this tale.

As I am rubbing the last slick of lotion onto Catti's feet, and she is cooing and wriggling in a way that makes my balls squeeze, a spunky Black gal who could be Lupita's twin shows up at my elbow with attitude.

"I'm Deena and I think it's my turn, don't you, Cat? Up, girl, and let me get mine. As usual, you are a greedy little witch with a capital B. And I don't "need it all over" like little miss leprechaun here. Just my shoulders and my ass; and put some energy into the shoulders 'cause they are kinked up something serious from all the attitude I've been getting."

I did what she asked. And she was pretty quiet as I did her shoulders, just moaning into the towel under her face. But when I began smoothing cream on her generous ass in its invisible purple thong, she told me to 'dig in', and pushed back against my hands until she got what she wanted. As I finished these ministrations she squeezed her cheeks together hard, crushing her pelvis against the canvas padding of the chaise. It wasn't so very obvious what she was doing; but I knew she was getting more than I gave her.

Time for a cold drink.

Curiously, Angie handed me a fresh one as I settled back in my own lounge chair. Only then did I notice a sprightly Asian gal with a disappointed expression sitting where Deena had just left.

"Angie was somehow in charge. "Sorry Evie, I think the girls have worn him out. But hey, maybe you could get yours later? What do you think, mister? Maybe a couple of us could go with you to somewhere more private and you could show us what you really could do with those big hands. Maybe we could return the favor?

I should have figured at that point that something was fishy, Maybe in the back of my brain I did. Maybe I figured I could take these greenhorns out easily. Maybe I was already half zonked from the magic lotion, despite my inoculations and training. Maybe my balls and the head of my cock were doing the thinking.

So I agreed.

"See you upstairs. Room 303."

I took my drink with me. Mistake. The drink was spiked, too.

And by the time I heard a little rappety-tap on the door I was pretty loopy, but my engine was pretty revved up with what I figured could happen.

And Angie comes drifting in the door wearing a silky Japanese kimono, and I can tell from the way it hugs her that that is about all she is wearing. And of course I begin to wonder if she is a pro, despite her youth, and will expect some serious bread if we start to get it on. Do I imagine she is a succubus? Not yet.

But sometimes your dreams can tell you stuff, and within a couple minutes of Angie sashaying in the door I'm having a doozie. 'Cause she didn't waste any time. Now, we hunters have been trained for this. We know that sometimes they will slip us a succuroofie and we will begin to drift away. We will begin to have a 'certain kind' of dream.

There is that feeling of helplessness; of drifting down a river of lust where every touch of our bodies pushes us toward that big release. And the dreams tend to be tinted blue. And our lovers are so good at what they do. And every feature of their bodies is so perfect, exaggerated, swelling hips and maxxed out breasts. In the back of my skull the alarm was jangling even though the front of my body was occupied by Angie. Super Angie. Angie whose moist lips surrounded my cock and pulled it in so deep. Sucking sounds like waves on the shore. A cunt so hungry you could feel the wet heat scrubbing against my legs.

I bit down on my tooth capsule.

No, it wasn't poison. I was an antidote to the drugs in the drink and the lotion. The immediate effect was like rising to the surface of a lake. And as I came back to reality the good news was that Angie was not superhuman. In fact, she was a tiny thing. But she was still sucking my cock with a mouth that could pull chrome off a trailer hitch. This was not really bad news and I was enjoying the hell out of it. But what spooked me was the presence of The Swarm. Lining the walls of my bedroom were close to a dozen very young succubi, watching intently what Angie was doing to my cock. And I could easily see, even through squinting eyes, that they were all hungry. All of their eyes gleamed with that dangerous red glow. Mouths were open and watering. Hands were twitching and clutching at their bosoms or their sexes. There was an omnipresent rustle and whine, a bit like a cave of bats. Some were panting. Sexy and super-scary all at the same time.

Could have caused me to wilt; but I am a trained hunter, and Angie was doing her job very well. And I had to do mine.

Somebody started whistling Pop Goes The Weasel. They were playing their own unique game of musical chairs. Everyone laughed. The laugh was simultaneously sweet and giggly and scary and evil. Angie made a face. She took my cock in her hand and offered it up to the room. The whistler whistled again as Catti leaped in and started mouthing my rod. She knew what she was doing, as those strong lips milked me for real. The red-headed leprechaun was hungry for my gold.

The whistling stopped and there was a scramble, and Asian Evie was enjoying my popsicle as the whistling started again. Now, you need to understand that I can hold my nut indefinitely. I have been up against the most skillful succubi, who can take an ordinary mortal from zero to one hundred in seconds, even crusty old dudes. And these gals were clearly newbies. But that in itself was tantalizing because they all were having so much fun with it, and there was a batch of them; each one eager to be in the driver's seat when the weasel 'popped.'

The whistled phrases got shorter and shorter and the sucking got harder as each gal worked to be the one on the hose when the spigot turned on.

"More...I want more." I feigned a stoned craving for everything that might come my way. I reached out my big hands toward the others and flexed my fingers in my best 'come hither' gesture. I could feel them surge toward me. They batted at each other; succubitches desperate to get theirs. Two scratched their way forward, a pale wiry sucker with flyaway raven hair, and Deena, gleaming eyed, nose wide open.

It doesn't do a succubus much good to have you eat her out. After all, she is going for your stuff, not having you get hers. But succubi have ways of harvesting everything they can get from you until they go for the real stuff. So Deena wasn't shy.

She scrambled onto the bed and slung one leg over my head and planted her heated pussy just above my lips. She was gazing hungrily at Evie, who was madly devouring my cock. Clearly, this had Deena's engine running because she was dripping onto my face.

Tit for tat. I knew it was a good time to get some back, so I scooped all of her parts onto my fierce satyr's lips.

Now sucking a succubus is no joke. Those nether lips of theirs can twist and tangle around your tongue. And watch out for that vagina. It works like an industrial vacuum and can suck your tongue right out of your mouth.

The clit is another story.

It can't actually do anything to you. But you don't really want to trigger it until you are ready to go in for the kill. It is like a wild animal's most sensitive sense organ. It can get wind of a horny male within a five mile radius and lead its owner right to you. She doesn't need you to touch it or play with it because she will put it exactly where she wants it and use it on you to get herself fully ready to feed.

Glancing around the room I could feel the energy about to burst. There was no hierarchy here, no queen bee, just the swarm of hungry-horny suckers each who wanted to get as much juice for herself. Of course they all wanted to fuck me and were willing to fight each other to get a piece of the action. But they were also willing to hover and wait and do their stuff to stay in the game. Maybe you have been with a woman who is really hot to trot. She will be hanging off you and rubbing your organ through your pants and sticking her tongue in your ear and scrubbing her nipples against you and tongue kissing like she wants your tongue for dinner. Magnify that times ten.

These gals. These gals were restless. Pacing, Hands roaming their own bodies. Tongues licking lips. Eyes wide with that 'god I need to fuck' look.

All of a sudden what had looked like a bunch of sassy sorority girls ready to party was now a pack of carnivorous animals.

In a second my whole body was covered with nubile flesh. They were elbowing each other to get a purchase. I let them. Of course I had to be aware of their dangerous parts. But at this stage I was mostly interested in getting them 'arrayed'. The best way to deal with an opposing army is to get them into positions where they are predictable and you are not. That was my plan. So while it looked like they were swarming all over me; each one trying to get a mouth or pussy or hands or asshole where she could work me, in fact I was lining them up the way I needed them to be.

Of course the major prize was my dick and I wanted that to be something a sucker had to work for. We maintained the illusion of cuddly, silly fooling around, but the tension to be the one to buy the full load was powerful. Earlier, outside, they had been all BFFs. Now, if not enemies, they were vultures vying for the most succulent bits. I tried to keep as many busy as possible. Two honeys were riding my feet, for pity's sake. I had each of my hands filled with young pussy; and I was churning them for all I was worth. Deena was grinding away at my face. Angie was sucking at one of my nipples and Calli on the other. Some of the others were tucking a tender bit against an elbow or knee. Somebody's insistent fingers were probing my AH.

This would be interesting.

I had to get them worked up to fever pitch; where they wouldn't be thinking at all; just scrambling to get the juice at first gasp. Meanwhile, I was marshaling my weaponry. It's pretty simple, really. If I have more than one opponent I need to stock my loads. And I can do that, line 'em up so they are ready to go as the need arises.

So I needed to lay off the light hitters first; nubile things, out for their first foray. A normal human dude would give them a warm meal that would mellow them out for a few days. A cocksmith at the height of his powers, especially if he could give one and come back again, he might get a sucker all woozy for a week.

I needed to get them to OD. A shame. Sweet newbies just starting their careers as man-destroyers. But a young shark or hornet is pretty sweet too. To work.

I pushed Evie off my dick and snatched one of the nipple suckers, grabbed her by the nubile waist and slammed her down on my erect rod. Eyes huge in her head as it fills her. "What is this?" When I'm ready I don't need a lot of time. Five or six strokes and the juice explodes up into her.

I pop her off. Don't even worry about what happens to her. The others have the scent now; fresh semen right in front of their noses. Mouth or cunt? Mouth or cunt?

Calli's lovely Irish lips swallow my engine; and she thinks she is going to have some lovely licking and may gobble some juicy 'seconds'. But I have a genuine second load primed, and the moment she stops lapping the last gal's leftovers and gulps my hot head, I clap hers down hard so I plunge into her throat. A moan and a groan and that batch is headed for her belly and I push the pale beauty aside and roll sideways onto Deena who is watching the show wide-eye. Her nose is open, too. And she's a little afraid she won't even get leftovers. But I clamp her ebony onion ass against me and find the hungry lips I know are hot to suck me in.