tagNonHumanMeant for Me

Meant for Me


I love this time of year. The leaves crunch beneath my boots as I step out from the depth of the shadows into the cool light of dusk. The sky hangs grey and purple above the pink oily residue of sun. The wind jostles the trees, some of which glow with an inward fire, others of which hunch dark and barren against the edge of night.

I do not care for pumpkin pie, having no taste for the human treat. I pay no regard to the children screaming from house to house. I do not smell the spices in the air as they are overpowered by a heady, seductive scent... a familiar scent of temptation from which I have abstained for many years. No, the reason I love this time of year is because of this particular day, Halloween. The only time of year when I feel I belong. My life is spent in the solitude of night, on quests of knowledge, in tirades of passion and, at times, in long sessions of silence, revering in the sweet ache of melancholy.

A scattering of kids run past. A few cars drive slowly out of sight. Walking further I sense a couple hiding in the shadows. My sight sees the girl's nipples tighten through the tank top as the young man slowly traces the curve of her neck with his lips and his hands clumsily kneed her pert ass. I can smell his precum, her perfume and the Italian on their breath from dinner. They are at least two blocks away huddled on the park bench.

I have gone through many stages of this strange and twisted version of life. Anger, repulsion, hatred, misery, gluttony, and back again. Abstaining has been the only way I can exist in the shadows without ripping my flesh apart and tearing loose my horror.

As I walk, I notice I've come upon a dark window. In it, there is only the dark glow of the city reflected. Millenniums could pass by and I would still be shocked at the lack of my reflection in a mirror. As I touch the cool glass, my senses awaken. Someone is within... a heartbeat, a glowing. I turn away from the window and am about to walk on when I feel it. Threads, pulses, something pulling at a gut long emptied and still.

I turn around to face the door. I hesitate. It matters not if it is locked. It matters not if the door even opens. I hesitate because I have not felt a stirring like this since HER. I close my eyes and feel the presence, taste the smell in the air. My thoughts have brought me inside without a conscience decision to enter.

The shop sells candy, big surprise, but it is not open. All is dark and still except for an edging of light that, holding bits of dust in its path, leaks out of the back room.

My hand touches the doorknob as I have long emulated normalcy out of respect for human sensibilities. As the door of the shop opens, she looks up, rather disheveled and shocked. Her red hair is pulled into two wild tufts at both sides of her head. Her green eyes are smudged with dark streaks of mascara yet the centers are like stars surrounded by sky. I am enveloped in her smell. It was her, who I had met as a mere child. She opens her mouth to remind customers the store is closed, until she, slowly, recognizes who I am.

About ten years ago, wondering dejectedly through rural areas, I was on a quest to stay as far away from civilization as possible and it's tantalizing, tempting scents. It had been dusk, a time of evening I often feel safe to appear, when my hunting was interrupted by a small muffled screaming. No one else could have heard it, and I would have ignored it, but always giving in to my devil's curiosity or perhaps mere boredom, I followed the sound.

In the deep of the woods, in a place that was neither sacred nor soft, an older man's hand clamped down over a small mouth, muffling the sound therein. The cheeks his fingers dirtied were pale and luminescent in the twilight. His body held her down, as though she were his little animal captured. Her 18 yr old body was nothing in size compared to him. I could smell her. Her smell was young, strong, and.... different. Different from any other smell I had known. It called to me with a sense of strange familiarity and something like ownership.

The heavy old man had pulled her shirt apart and ripped off her panties from under her long skirt. Her cries echoed back into their throat where they suffocated. Her tiny apricot nipples had streaks of dirt on them left from his hands. His wet tongue had suckled on one as he pulled himself out of his pants. When his mouth separated from her tiny breast with a wet pop, the nipple became hard against its own volition. He stroked his cock and stuffed her mouth with her white, torn underwear in order to free up his beefy hands. Her arms had been captured beneath her own body and his weight, so that her tiny form jutted towards him while every fiber of her essence was screaming to get away.

His fingers caressed her pale soft skin, drawing a path that led him to her center. There, he felt her heat as he used his big fingers to trace the lips of her pussy. It was puffy and peach colored, so innocent. It was just as he inserted his big dirty fingers inside her tiny wet opening that her eyes suddenly found me. From that moment, I was lost. I had felt a rage that had never overcome me, not even when I lost my life. I felt the old man ripping her heart apart as if it were my own.

I did not even have to use my full strength to lift his body into the air above her, his fingers pulled from her little hole. I had wanted to mutilate him, rip his throat out with my hands and break his spine, offering up an eyeless head to her as the gift of my revenge. Her eyes were the only thing to stop me. They were too innocent, and yet, too wise. I simply fed on him till he was drained and let him fall delicately to the side. It disgusted me that his blood had tasted so glorious. I did not move for a time, for fear of scaring her away. She had removed the cotton underwear from her mouth and pulled her clothes together slowly. There wasn't much she could do with her shirt but hold it over her small breasts. I held her gaze for what seemed the entirety of my life. I felt I knew her and owned her. And I knew that she owned me.

Holding her gaze, I took a step back. She took one step forward. I inched back again, and again, she followed. Slowly I made my retreat and she followed like a wood sprite enchanted by a song. We came to a flat opening of rock in front of a small creek. I realized she was not afraid of me, but rather, in awe. I took my shirt off, ripped it and wet the scrap. Night was fully upon us and her pale skin glowed under the dirt on her face. I gently washed her. Though I traced her cheek, her mouth, her breasts, I had taken extreme care not to touch her directly, for fear I might be undone by the invisible force drawing us together. My care mattered not for, before I left her, she reached out to touch my face. It burned more than the sun. I whispered, "Alea iacta est" before I kissed her hair and fled.

Now, so many years past, I could barely believe I was looking into those same sad eyes. Eyes, which were both young and old. I could barely believe her overwhelming smell, which had only been a faint memory for so long.

"Wha wha... you... wha.", she stammers while I gaze at her in silence. "I thought I would never see you again", she says quietly when she regains composure. I had not regained mine. The whole world felt tilted and if I had breath, it would have been stolen.

There is no more time for words with all the time that had passed us by since her childhood. Hers mouth is the one that I must possess. I crush her full lips against mine, feeling her heartbeat through them. I feel her surrender immediately, dark and complete.

She spreads her lips and her legs and I melt into her. Cold steel falling into the fire. I feel the hottest part of her against my groin and she wraps her legs around me. Her hands pull at my hair so hard a human would cry out in pain. I taste blood on her lips. It is sweet... and sexy. She suddenly unwinds herself from me and steps back. Her eyes burn. They are no longer the eyes of a child. She slowly pulls her black shirt up, peeling it away from her skin and the globes of her breasts, over her head.

Her tits are heavy and perfectly curved, the large nipples a fiery rose color. She is a fully grown woman now. As they fall out of her shirt they bounce seductively. I want to bite them but I wait as she continues her undressing.

She pulls the zipper of her dark jeans down slowly. It is her intent to seduce that turns me on the most. Especially, since it is so unnecessary. My mind is clear and foggy, all at the same time. My cock is as hard as stone. I silently laugh for one second about how this is one of the only resemblances left between my body and that of a human man.

As appealing as the smell wafting from her wet, ripe cunt is the warm pulse of her blood that radiats away from her body, hitting me in waves. Like standing next to the speakers at some rock concert, her heartbeat feels like my own.

Her heavy breasts sway as she shimmies out of the jeans. Her movements are too slow for me. I lunge forward. Her face shows the slightest bit of fear then melts into welcoming. I pick her up underneath her arms, breasts caressing my forearms, and sit her on the steel table. She gasps at the combination of my sudden movement and the cold steel against her hot flesh.

She sits motionless as I explore her without touching. I smell along her hairline, down her smooth neck, across the dip of her collarbone, over the curves of her breast. My lips hover a hair's breath away from touching skin. Down her stomach, I jerked her legs open and suck in deeply. Her cunt is the most heady drug I've ever known.

I am going to take her, use her, love her, and possess her. I know this as truth. And I know she will come willingly. But the most powerful knowledge of all, is that she owns me as well.

I stand up before her and place her hands on my chest. Her eyes never faltere from mine as she pulls each button loose on my shirt. Her task completed, I grab her wrists and pull her very close. I take her lips and suck in her tongue. Her human frailty pulses through every vein. It is amazing to have the power to crush the delicate flower, but enjoying it as I am, I do not.

Her hands find my cock. She touches lightly along the shaft and then begins massaging my balls. Though my senses are much more heightened than any normal man, I prefer a firmer touch. I grab her hair and pull her off the table to her knees. I must have that tongue where it can dance for my pleasure. I hold her jaw and guide my cock into her mouth. Once she gets me slick with her spit, I push myself deeper and deeper. I tell her to hold it there and feel her throat closing. Finally, I release and she gasps for air. A long string of spit still connects her to me.

The beauty owns me as much as I own her.

She lavishes my balls with a wicked tongue, eager to hear me moan. She sucks my balls into her mouth while her tongue goes round and round. When she releases them, the pop out with a wet sound. Her eyes are at once innocent and wise.

Holding her fiery hair, I pull her up to taste her lips. Her body is so soft and human against me. I run my hands down her spine to her ass and find the slit of her cunt with my fingers. Pushing, I invade her closed center. I curl my finger backward, holding her like a hook. I bite her lip gently. I tug with my finger. One hand finds the weight of her pale breast.

Dropping down and pushing her back to lean on the table, I swing one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her. I lick her puffy pussy lips, then I smack them with my fingers. A mewling sound comes from her throat. I rub her lips with my fingers and lick her closed little slit. My tongue gently opens her center until it finds her bud. Her pussy lips cling and stretch as I push my fingers inside her wet opening. Patiently and consistently I fuck her with my mouth and fingers. Light licks over her clit and a steady pounding with fingers curving up to her gspot. When she begins to erupt, I can feel it coming on, the tremors. She doesn't even breathe for fear of losing it. Holding, holding, ... and.. there. The volcano erupts... her cum gushes out, her pussy spasms uncontrollably around my fingers, and finally, she screams low in her throat.

Before the last spasm has abated, I shove my cock into her, causing her to recoil those screams with shock. Her tiny slippery hole sheaths my cock. My wandering soul could lay at rest in her eyes but my body could call her pussy home.

I begin our dance, shoving my dick from tip to base into her over and over. She whimpers meaningless phrases but I understand her body speaking to me. She arches her back, her nipples stand tight and proud. Sweat glistens down her chest and forehead where strands of hair have begun to cling. Every shove into her causes her breasts to lift and her ass to rock against the table. Every pull her pussy suctions to me, begging me not to leave. She growls as I push into her, staking my claim.

This night is too long-awaited to be wasted inside. I pull out of her and lead her to the stairwell. "Lead me to the roof", I tell her. She unlocks the door and we ascend. Her body sways as she runs up the stairs and beneath the curve of her pale ass I see glimpses of her red pussy lips, swollen and shining with our juices.

On the roof, beneath the night sky, I push her to her knees and mount her from behind. I am showing all creatures of the night that she is mine. Children scamper home unawares and jack-o-lanterns are slowly dying out, but for us night has just begun. She gasps as I shove my cock back inside her. I use her hair to pull her to me. Her ass grinds in circles as though she is dancing. The monster inside my skin can barely contain itself. Viciously, I dig deeply into her over and over again. She cries out partly in lust, partly in pain. "Make me yours", she chants in rough, jolted whispers, "make me yours".

Lifting her up against me, I hold her breasts tight. The power wells up from my balls and I sink myself into her up to the hilt just before release. Arching my back, deep inside her, I scream and cum inside my goddess. Never have I cum so hard or so long. My seed falls on her fertile human terrain. I feel what is to happen. Soon she will be ripe with child. And then, in the not so distant future, I will kill her so that we are together for all of time. There is no fighting it... as though the dice were rolled before our existence. Our fate has been set, but, I think, as I lick her pussy juices off my fingers, I have no qualms with that.

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