Red River of Lust (First Person)

Beneath Alicia's white gown and between her breasts, a silver cross hangs from around her neck. She never removes it. Not even for prayer. At night it collects sweat as she straddles my thin body. She pivots her hips until my cock bursts and slithers out like a worm. Afterward, she dutifully wipes up my semen with the washcloth and falls asleep next to me.

One day I find her caressing the cross, as she stares at it, contemplating. Contemplating what?

Later on, in bed, Alicia's moans are barely audible. She mumbles something foul as she washes off my semen, before falling asleep next to me.

The question of what haunts her burns hotter the day I catch her staring at the cross without caressing it. No. Not staring. Glaring. Accusation beams down from those eyes. Come nightfall she lays still, while I pump my six-and-a-half-inch cock into her supple body. She doesn't make a sound. She refuses to clean up my mess but falls asleep next to me as always.

The next day, the necklace that looped around her neck for as long as I've known her now hangs from her fingers. Fingers that imprisoned the sweat glistened cross. She sets it free, flying through the air, and with a plop, it disappears into the river.

The next morning the cross that stood on the church altar for three generations goes missing. A day later it reappears, the bottom half smelling like pussy juice.

My bed's been empty for two days.

I consult the old woman. The one with the upside-down five-pointed star hanging from her neck. The one said to be seen on her knees and sucking off every married man in the village. I don't have to say a word before she bares her teeth and leads me into the belly of the woods. Frogs and crickets gurgle its stirring hunger for innocence. Night's cold blanket hides sculptures depicting debaucherous scenes carved into tree trunks.

One shows a voluptuous demon straddling a horrified angel's thick cock. Another displays feminine angels on either side of the devil. Their tits droop around each of his thighs. One's mouth is wrapped around his left testicle, while the other engulfs the top half of his cock.

The largest sculpture sits between me and a campfire up ahead. The piece is carved independently from any surrounding tree. Shadow-casting wings sprout from an angel's back, and arch high over her body. Her empty eyes glare at two demon heads, she's holding against her crotch, their tongues frozen at the moment they meet against her clit.

As I walk past the carved wooden statue, I hear Alicia's voice in the distance.

The closer I get to the campfire glow, the louder my wife's moans become. These were lecherous screams and whimpers I'd never heard before. The desperate pleas of a common whore, begging for wave after wave of ecstasy. Cries that celebrate being brought back from a grave of repression.

"Take me! Fuck me! Yes! Fuck me, Satan!"

Strong clawed hands grip my wife's ass, lifting and dropping her on his thick cock. It's the kind of forearm-long cock sluts can't get their whole hand around. Her slippery pussy, clutches, and massages the hardened flesh. Despite the distance, I know the bounce of her tits and can almost feel her hardened nipples brushing against his broad chest.

My cock grows hard. Precum darkens my trousers.

"Good little slut! You don't need your husband's weak little cock anymore, do you?"

"No, dark lord!" she howls, her ass still bouncing on his dick. "His tiny penis means nothing to me!"

"And what else?"

"I deny the Holy Spirit! Just fuck me! I want your cock throbbing in my pussy. I want to lick your cum off Mother Mary's face. Fuck me, Satan! Please! Fuck me!"

Satan's feet leave the ground, ascending one foot, then two feet, then three feet into the air. The ground splits into a mouth, spitting red light, erasing the darkness, and illuminating the sweat dripping off Alicia's body.

Lusciously curved figures, with crimson skin, reach up, surround, and embrace the two lovers. Alicia tilts her head back. Her eyes flip pure white as the spirit-like figures caress her, embrace her, and slowly pull her down with Satan.

Descending faster than Satan, she kisses down his chiseled body. His cock brushes against her cheek. Her mouth milks its thickening girth, and her tongue lathers his balls.

The last part of Alicia I see is her hands, reaching up to pinch his nipples.

They both descend until I can't see them anymore. The light's brilliance dies into a stream of crimson mist, flowing like a river of blood across the forest. Faces drift through the river, and soft voices whisper what sounds like invitations. I kneel for a closer look.

"Alicia, are you there?"

Alicia rises from the stream and crosses her arms at the shore. She smirks at me. Her mouth opens to reveal a pink tongue extending from a white swamp. She closes her mouth and swallows, creating a clean smile.

"Alicia, my love!" A hand reaches up and clutches her hair. She laughs as it pulls her back down into the abyss. "No! Wait! Come back, Alicia!"

Silence.

"Alicia, where are you?"

No one answers.

"Why Alicia? Why would you want to go to a place, where there's only pain?"

"Because I'm the one bringing the pain." The remark ignites enough laughter to fill several coliseums.

She reemerges with a smile I've never seen before. It's an older and more confident smile on a face that hasn't aged a day.

She reaches out to me. A chastity cage rests in her hands.

"It's about time you learned that torment is not always a bad thing."

My eyes drift into the red abyss, where slippery feminine bodies squirm against muscular ones. A cacophony of voices fills my ears. Grunts, moans, and lecherous screams multiply in the thousands. The further away they are, the more possessed by lust they sound. The closer they are, the more suggestively they call my name.

My eyes return to Alicia's unblinking stare.

The horned head of Satan starts to rise before she pushes it back down, never looking away from me.

"Honey, if you've never met God, why would you believe the egotistical cunt when he says hell is a bad place to be?"

"I... " Her fingers graze past my cheek.

"I've missed you, Sheldon. I know that doesn't make sense, but I have. What I haven't missed is milking your worthless cock, and cleaning the mess off your cute wimpy body. Now I have an army of men with biteable muscles bulging from their smooth skin. They all offer their thick loads to me on serving trays of detailed abs, and yes, I always lick it off."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"To see." Her hand shoots out and clutches my cock through my trousers. "Good! That's what I thought."

"What?"

Her face rushes towards mine. She licks my cheek, and whispers into my ear, her naked shoulder inches away from my chin.

"I've gained a taste for weak, adorable men like you. Make no mistake, you'll never fuck me again, but we're going to have all kinds of fun together."

She presses soft pecks against my skin. I turn my head to kiss her on the lips, but she clutches my jaw so that I keep facing forward. Her hand slides into my trousers and strokes.

"One condition. Keep that little worm of yours locked up until I say you can release it, which won't be very often. I'll be busy sucking off real cocks. I have enough men who can stuff my pussy and asshole, stretching me and properly fucking me until I'm too satisfied to give you a chance." Her tongue flicks into my ear.

The more appealing her offer sounds, the more I can hear from the red abyss. Now I can make out flesh slapping, slurping spit, and thousands of thoroughly satisfied women moaning, cooing, and howling.

"You love that, don't you?" I can hear that unwavering confident smile in her voice. "I love it too. It's too bad that they won't be fucking you either. Don't worry. I'll see that they have their fun right in front of you. I'll make sure no matter where you go, you're surrounded by ass and titty flesh that poor little cucky can't touch."

"Alicia! I can't!"

"Go ahead, baby! Cum too fast, just like always. Show me how pathetic you are."

Thick ropes fire from my cock as I howl with pleasure. She rubs my seed onto my chest and pulls me into a kiss. My lips push into hers, harder than she expects, causing her to smile as my hands search for her curves and caress them. My teeth pull her lower lip as I break away.

"I love you, Alicia!"

"And I still love you. We can still be together. You just have to learn to love my sadistic side."

"I think I already have."

She blushes. Her confident smile melts, into another kiss, that molds around my tongue. I kiss back much slower this time, savoring her.

"Keep kissing me like that, and I might end up letting you out more often than I thought. Passionate little beta! See you on the other side, lover." She falls backward, disappearing into the crimson abyss.

With a smile, I look into the red river once more. This time I see different faces. Faces of people from different times past and present, who all exist in hell simultaneously. Faces whose names I'll eventually learn. These names include Edgar Allan Poe, Diogenes, Corey Taylor, George Carlin, John Lennon, Mary Shelley, Malcolm X, Lydia Lunch, William Shakespeare, David Bowie, and Oscar Wilde.

I feel excitement emanating from the river. The kind associated with creation, innovation, and new experiences. More importantly, I feel love. The kind repressed in the polite society of this world, yet expressed freely by consenting adults in the next one.

I jump in. A red flash blinds me, opening my other senses to the smell of sex, arms embracing me, and breasts pressing against me through clothing. When my eyes finally adjust, the first thing I see is Alicia's smile, and Satan's jaw hovering above her shoulder.