Lessons of Darkness

And so I suppose it's time I partake in that pleasure she supposes will keep me under her spell for all eternity. From the looks of it that's where she's heading. She's making her body all translucent. Not having to abandon it like I did, she was built for this kind of thing. With that our beings become much more porous.

She's able to enter me in a way that no one else could ever hope to. I've never been the most social person, not exactly an authority about how much intimacy people can share, but she's making a case that she can go beyond the bounds that anyone else can go. That all of the feelings that I could ever hope to obtain from another person have a better home inside of her.

Oh god, the lack of judgement. All the people who have tried to approach me solely to learn about my family's history. She knows me and yet doesn't care, at least in the most non-judgmental way. This might just be what gets me in the end. It just may be my preferred drug of choice from now on.

And with that emotional baseline settled, now is the time for her to top it all off with an erotic charge. Forgoing the usual physical connection to give me the stimuli directly from the source. Drinking milk straight from the udder so to speak. As a man who has yet to experience the joys of sex I could still see this as being a worthy substitute.

The acceptance, the feeling that someone could choose you to be this close with, it all comes to a forefront here. A smooth touch I never thought was possible from someone of the demonic persuasion is in play here. Soothing me into the submission that grows more appealing by the second.

Desire, satisfaction, fulfillment, warmth, excitement, comfort and calm are all present without actual physical sex serving as a middleman to me. All the feelings that one could ever hope to gain from sex without the sex itself present. Hooked up directly into whatever form I am now and injected directly into it. Like a drug felt for the very first time.

This is who I want to be, the man who feels these feelings. A man who could feel this way on the inside. I like this guy, I want to be more like him. She's showing me the way. I get to be him, this sexually satisfied, comfortable man only through the good graces of her. That's how she creates a dependency and I must say that she does a mighty fine job.

How do I win this again? Do I even want to? Is there anything better than this? Maybe I should let her take me, maybe that would be a win-win for the both of us. It could be nice, having her feed me these sensations intermittently for all eternity. What pleasures does the outside world really have to offer me anyway? All I've experienced is coldness, apathy and judgement. At least here I feel warm. Why not just make this my stopping point?

Yet my inner compass does not point in her direction, it points to some far away land. This is just a pit stop to get to where I'm truly meant to be. I know the guiding hand of fate wants something different for me. The sense that there is a place for me beyond this but I'm going to have to fight right here and right now to get there.

So, what do I do now? I didn't know how she was going to try to take me, my plan doesn't go this far yet. But deep in my gut I know where I need to turn. Criticality will be my savior. The thought process that most people turn to sex to lose will be my only way out of this appeasement to my feelings. Without thoughts I will be like the rest of the poor fools who were once slaves to their emotions but gave ownership to her in an effort to drown out their inner turmoil with a much more soothing feeling, directly from her teat.

What is the way out? To return the favor. Most people want something to overpower them, not something to interact with. I have to distance myself from all the rest in this regard. I'm not wise in the ways of whatever act we're doing, there's not even a talk for this kind of sex. No "When a mommy loves a daddy" to help me through this. I don't even know where exactly my dick is or where the two of us are penetrating.

Well, I guess I'll have to learn on the fly. I suppose we're now two beings of some kind of energy. With that assumption in mind the best place to start must be by manipulating my own energy. Changing my own neediness to dormant desire and seeing if I can't awaken some of her own yearning in the process. Now what to send back her way? What will reverse this half nelson she's got me in?

Well she's giving me pleasure, maybe I should make what's been kind of a one sided relationship reciprocal for her. She has probably only up to this point had experiences from the solipsistic kind. Those who valued their own pleasure above all and were easy victims to someone who treated their pleasure as the center of their universe. But maybe my world's big enough to accommodate her pleasure.

So let's just add a new assumption that I have in this state the same powers that she does. The power to make her feel good, just as she does me. But how do I use them? How does she summon such pleasure within me? But then I realize that she does because she likes me like this, desires me to be this way and in her own way loves me like this. The dark kind of love that wants a person to take a specific shape and form, but a love nonetheless.

The most important part is that she understands me like this. Welcoming as much of my pleasure and hoping to keep me in a blissed out state without a care in the world. Pleasure is her domain after all, though her myopia currently only circumferences the debilitating side of pleasure. Why can't the entire world be under her sway? It would be so much easier is what she thinks. All she wants to do is take the pain away. Those were some good intentions, it's just the outcome that needs a little work done.

I guess a plan is finally coming together on my end. I must go beyond the reaches of the gratification she is supplying and find a way to reach her. Show her a better path than the only one she can see for herself. Show her an even more appealing version of the love she's showing me.

In this moment I love her, I really do. Or whatever is the non-selfish hyped up on hormones version of love that currently exists in our collective conscious. The one where you just wish for the best for the person and have affection for them without expecting anything from them. I choose to love her. She has led me to experience such wonderful sensations. Truly someone worthy of appreciation and admiration. Though the finale she may have planned for me might not be what I want, the trip there is divine. A trip that I am oddly enough grateful for.

Through whatever sense capabilities I have I know she is generally shocked and surprised at the feelings that are flowing from me to her. My feelings for her have made their way across whatever divide we have and landed on an unsuspecting target. There, that's red flag one for her. Yet this seems to have made her even more determined to seduce me and add me to her collection. She's not one to lose easily, especially when a target seemed to be so her speed.

So she finally starts to show her hotheaded tendencies once the competition becomes more and more apparent. She's in uncharted territory though, never a good idea to plunge into that headfirst. The feelings of pleasure she was giving me has now given way to anger and anxiety. And you know what? That's fine. I still care for her and want her to be happy.

So immunizing myself to whatever she can throw at me I withstand the vitriol that I now see is inside of her. All I have to do is hold onto my affection for her and then she'll break. She'll realize that she doesn't really want to win and that it'll be better for her if she loses in the long run. My victory will symbolize a better tomorrow in her mind's eye, a future that will be better than anything that she can come up with on her own.

But that is just my hope for how this battle ends. It could all be wishful thinking since the skirmish is ongoing. Yet my hope is strong because I'm at ease. Ironic that in a war of wills that ease, relaxation and affection would be the keys to winning. All that she shares with me cannot trespass on my sense of satisfaction. A newfound enjoyment of the pleasures she gave to me without any need to be dominated by them.

She's still not letting me go, that's good though. Glad I made myself too enticing a prize to resist. If she let go then all would be lost. I have to keep her hanging on so that I can leave this encounter with as much knowledge as I can. It wouldn't do much good if she retreated in surrender. I have to make her stubbornness as engaged as possible, at least until defeat starts to feel really good.

Yes, keep on finding new sensations to try and subject me with. I know it's not going to work. At least it'll keep her occupied while I subject her to sensations of my own. My own versions of love, acceptance, gratitude, appreciation, not the kinds she gives with enclosure lying in wait. Mine are the ones without any expectations, the ones that grant freedom at the end.

Let them infiltrate her, make her feel like how she never thought she should. She, who has always been on the giving end will now find the possibility of sharing something. An organism who has only known commensalism will now witness the benefits of mutualism. A benefit that will outweigh the reasons for her to continue down the path she is.

I know from what I'm experiencing from her that my efforts are working. I feel fear from her, not the kind that can instill anything in me but the kind that is let out when an opponent is going down for the count. Circling the drain to speak. However she does manage to get her grips on herself and unleash one last wave of pleasure on me. And you know what? It does feel good, but maybe I feel better.

So caught in a vortex we are now, trying to fight the other over who can give the most amount of pleasure. Until the fighting stops and we collapse in on each other. The dam breaks. I don't know who lit the match but whatever forms we're in became closer than ever. The fight that stood between us disappears suddenly from under our feet, leaving us floating in each other's arms.

We've became closer than ever. I'm not sure who led and who followed but together we are, overlapping as much as possible. Now trying to give the other one as much a pleasure even after the competition has collapsed. Because through the wreckage we have found a sense of harmony, one based off a mutual enjoyment of what we could give to one another. Working in tandem we built on top of each other's bliss, like a jenga tower that could never fall.

Pure instinct is what causes this. Deep in whatever our equivalent of genetic coding now is lies some command that trumps all animosity either of us may feel in favor of laying claim to as much intimacy as possible. The past becomes a matter of fact while what possibilities we can do to each other becomes where our cravings lead us to. The fact that our communion started off as a battle of the wills no longer matters, what matters is optimizing the amount of enjoyment we can get from each other.

Our essences began to blend together. Hard to tell who feels what anymore. I know that she has never let anyone this close before, her sense of self is going to be a bit more hypothetical after this. Me, well I never had much in the way of an ego to begin with. She feels good and I feel good with her. I think it's better to share that feeling rather than delineate boundaries between the two of us.

Not being overwhelmed by, not being lost in but finding euphoria in the places where the lines that separate the two of us are not that strong. Yes we are beings of a single consciousness, no way to add two to that. However, sometimes the other one can snuggle up to you, get close and spend some time with you. Being able to volley sensations between one another as they get contaminated with both party's essences and become easy to lose track of who the sensations belongs to anymore.

Though she's a demon and my spirit belongs to the body of one of the humans she's supposed to be seducing into subjugation, our commonalities triumph over our differences. The pleasure at hand is what unites us, with both of us taking from it and adding to it in equal measure. From our metaphysical coitus we build something even bigger than ourselves, a bank of gratification to draw from and invest in to our heart's contentment.

So whatever the spiritual version of a climax is where we're onto now. Both of us doing our part to add to the buildup of whatever our shared pleasure manifests itself as so that it explodes and covers the two of us with remains that will stay with us for long after this encounter is over. So with a little bitter sweetness I ramp up my own feelings of love, affection, acceptance, all the emotions that usually complement the physical aspect of sex to unsustainably intense levels in hopes that the bubble bursts before I tap myself out. I feel her do something comparable.

And then a pulse occurs that knocks me back right into the body. I fall back as I regain physical dominion over the body. The aftertaste of the pleasure I shared with Lilith in the ethereal plane courses through my body. The full dose would not be endurable for my body, heck even my spiritual being got knocked out before it could feel the full sensations of the metaphysical orgasm we shared. The lingering sensations would be all I have to go by to paint a picture of just how good the climax felt.

Lilith returns to her corporeal state and lies next to me. She surely could've left after the release to lick her wounds or what not. Instead she chooses to be here with me, approximating her own version of post coitus recuperation. Panting, with a look on her face that mixes fear over what has just happened to her with a bliss over how satisfying the encounter felt. I guess a little pillow talk is in order to help sort through our feelings.

"So..." She says, wanting to talk but not wanting to make the first significant move.

"So?" I answer a little mockingly but all in good fun, letting her know I have her number. I know she wants a bit of discourse but doesn't want that intentions disclosed. A human getting the better of a demon, imagine how embarrassing that is for her.

Luckily, the part of her that accepted she had felt such bliss by human hands is able to wave off the embarrassment with a little laugh. I guess it's only as big a deal as one makes it. And you know I think she might just be taking to vulnerability. It could be oddly refreshing for her.

"That was.. That was..." And she stops and sighs. Either not knowing what to say or knowing that the words that would follow would tarnish her demonic legacy. So a standstill is where she's at. Maybe I can say the words that she can't say.

"That was nice," I say finishing the sentence for her. She looks at me shocked, as if questioning how I could think a demon could do anything approximating nice. Yet she knows in her heart that my addendum was true. It was a nice time had by two willing parties, the lineage of whom has become trivial in the face of such pleasantness.

Nevertheless the enjoyment could not stop some anguish from forming in her. I could sense it, maybe because of a side effect from being a part of the ethereal for so long. She felt like she had actively betrayed her purpose. A demon's supposed to seduce humans not make love to them. How do I let her feel that she hasn't abandoned her purpose, just grown beyond it?

I go over to kiss her, me being the aggressor this time. Startled, she moves back a little but eventually welcomes it. Turnabout is fair play, she wasn't all that into asking permission when she was making the first move on me. In any case, I needed to remind her of the pleasure we both shared. The same pleasure that's causing all this restlessness inside. Make her realize which of the waring notions in her head she wants to win out.

So she moves back into the kiss, a retread of where we first started but this time with the roles reversed. I'm the giver and she is the receiver. Because I have a feeling to impart, one that I hope she takes on. A feeling of affection, for her for even going through the internal strife that is now consuming her. A lesser demon would have stayed disdainful in the face of my love or may even have fled. Yet here is an ageless being allowing change to ripple throughout her internally. Letting what was once was in her morph into something that could be arguably better.

And so she continues to accept my kisses and later brought her own passion to the mix. Similar sensations coming from the two of us that we can share in the physical realm. And my what's this? It seems to be her hand on my still hard prick, making its way up and down my member. What had once been below her has found its way onto her level.

So back and forth she goes, like the world's most fun seesaw. She's really getting into it. Taking control from me, really getting my pleasure centers going. The inhuman warmth around her hand really does wonders on my prick. The unbreaking traction she's providing me with showcases a passion that makes the experience just that much better.

I knew though that this is in part a test, a round two if you will. Her competitive spirit is not in play however, this is a pass fail test on my part to see if I can withstand her pleasure on the material front. A pop quiz for when I think I'd just won, when my guard may be a little more down. I can't be distracted from her, at least completely.

Her, who I don't even know beyond this encounter but am able to feel a connection to, some semblance of love even. I have to be here for her while she does her best to pleasure me on the material front. She already has such a dour view on men and humanity in general, I have to continue to be the exception. I don't want to let her down now.

I have to be present for her, show her that I'm not out for simple carnal pleasure. Though the sensations that sexual contact provides to me feel good, there are other delights that I've set my sights on. I'm not going keep my eye off of them just for a very good hand job. This is just a cherry on top of our encounter.

So I look at her through her act of sexual gratification. Look at her face as she gives that demonic smile with now a hint of human affinity. Her smile, her care really shine through to my heart's content. I put my hand on her, while hers is on... Well, you know. The closeness and intimacy that sexual contact can provide have become the primary goal, the physical pleasure has been relegated to not quite an afterthought but less than an underlying purpose.

I have done well, I have passed her last test. And so time to experience our physical contact with no reservations intact. We were fully each other's now, so why not use that comfort to its fullest intent. So briefly she takes her hand off of my prick to push my chest down to the ground. She then proceeds to climb up on top of me. I think I know where she's going with this.

Once more her hand wraps around my member but this time for guiding reasons. So up she lifts herself just a little bit to move my dick underneath her. Using whatever human aspects that she shares with me, she takes me in the most intimate of manners. My hard prick is fully ensconced in whatever her equivalent of a snatch is. Her unnatural warmth feels even better surrounded by her insides than just her hand.

And so begins the movement, slow at first but then here comes the traction. Up and down she goes taking me with her in a sense. This is her ride and I'm just along for it. But boy do I enjoy being in the backseat. A softness that you wouldn't expect from a demon surrounds me and rubs against me in ways that are sublime to the touch.