tagNonHumanMy Incubus

My Incubus


I have an incubus, and he visits me while I sleep. I know he comes to me because I cum in my sleep. I'll be dozing, especially when I first fall asleep. I'm curled up on my side, alone, feeling the emptiness of my bed.

Slowly, sleepily, incipiently I feel a presence join me. I feel him slip into my bed like a shadow. Then gently, so gently, I feel the shadow reach out and caress me. He touches me softly, slowly, on my arm or shoulder. Soon he begins to tickle my neck. Then I feel him slide his hand more insistently down toward my breast. He starts to stroke it lightly, then more firmly. Finally he is massaging it, and my nipple starts to respond, to harden. He fingers my areola, stiffening the nub between playful fingers. I feel myself stir, and move toward him. My breath starts to quicken, and my heart starts to race. After a few minutes, I instinctively roll so he is touching my other breast, and the pinching and twisting is quicker, more insistent. Soon both my nipples are standing at attention, and aching, wishing for more.

A few minutes pass, and then I feel breath on my nipple, warm air blown across. A tongue darts out, and the tip touches the tip of my stiff nipple. I arch toward it. The tongue starts to dance across my nipple, making it even harder and stiffer and redder. I turn wanting this attention on my other nipple, and he complies. My incubus is a compliant kind of fellow. Licking and tickling turn to sucking and biting, bruising my huge swelling melons. I arch toward him, but if I am too quick about it, he vanishes. He is an incubus after all.

Soon I feel another hand stroking forward, reaching toward my thighs. I know where he is going, and I am glad he is. I feel the air moving across my thigh, and know it is his hand caressing me. I feel the warmth of his fingers reaching for my heat. Slowly, slowly, slowly he reaches for my bush. I push my hips forward, but he is in no hurry. He has all night, or at least until the sun rises. But I am impatient. He shushes me to slow down just by his breath in my ear.

I toss and turn, trying to feel all of him. If I try too hard, he disappears, so I have learned to be patient, and let him go at his pace. Sometimes if I am too hurried, I roll right through him, so I lay back and let him play with me.

It is strange to be fucked by a ghost, to be made love to by a shadow, to be embraced by air and nothing, but I know he is something and he is here, holding me, ravaging me, touching me. I never hear him speak, and I'm not sure he is on this plane. Maybe he doesn't speak English? Maybe he doesn't speak human at all? But I know he is real, because I wake up with his spunk in me, my juices mixed with his.

If I am really patient, and stop rushing, he will run those air-like hands all over me, brushing my breasts and belly and thighs. He will slip a finger into me, and then maybe another and another. I can arch up to him, but not too hard, or he will pass right through me and be gone. If I ride his fingers slowly, I can cum over and over and over, arching toward nothing, but feeling something. He makes me squirm and cream and clench.

If I'm really quiet, he will spread my legs with hands of shadows, and slide onto me, weighing nothing. He will push my knees apart, and point that illusive arrow at my pussy. At a speed surpassed by the earth's plates shifting he will lower himself toward my waiting hole. I know it is his cock sliding up and down along my slit. It can't be my fingers. It has to be his prick, ready to prick my little hole. And as if time is standing still, finally he enters me, sliding air, or light, or shadow into my waiting cunt. I hold my breath. I don't make a sound. I feel him moving centimeter by centimeter in and out of my aching twat. The slowness of it makes me want to scream, but I know if I do, I will scare him away, and he will vanish before I can even open my eyes. So I wait and wait and wait until he fills me up with that strength.

Soon he rides me with a rhythm only he can keep. I arch to him, and bend to accommodate his need because after all, it is my need too. He never lets me down. I always cum and cum and cum. I never expect it, but it always happens. And he cums and cums and cums too. Then we fall off into a sweet slumber together. If I stir too much, he leaves early, so I've learned to be still throughout the night and he will stay until right before the dawn. When I awaken, I know he has been there because my pussy is full of his seed.

So if you hear about someone being visited by an incubus, don't doubt it. My incubus is real. Is it you?

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bymarla_gillis© 1 comments/ 17214 views/ 3 favorites

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