The Incubus

They spent the next hour pedaling up and down Lower Broadway, laughing, drinking and hooting at pedestrians, many of whom waved and yelled back good-naturedly. Paris made a point of swapping seats several times so that he could get to know each of the young ladies.

After several more drinks, Paris noticed some whispered conversations going on around him, accompanied by furtive glances in his direction. Finally, the brunette who'd first accosted him was apparently nominated to be the group's spokeswoman. She grabbed his arm and leaned over to him. "Hey, Paris, we're all going line dancing at the Wildhorse. Why don't you come with us?"

"Sure, why not?" he replied, and the group broke into smiles.

He'd never been line dancing before, but the steps were simple enough and the instructors were helpful, so he quickly picked it up. Some of the girls, he noted, were quite good, but a couple of them were drunk enough to provoke whoops of laughter as they stumbled about.

An hour later the party was pooped, and this time there was no question that Paris would come with them back to their hotel. Laughing and milling around him, the group stumbled their way a couple of blocks to the Hyatt. They all crowded into the elevator together and rode up to the bride's suite, then proceeded to fix yet another round of drinks. Someone turned on some down-tempo music, and they each took a turn dancing with Paris.

When the brunette slid into his arms, she made a point of getting extra close, and soon was straddling his leg, rubbing herself against him. Someone lowered the lights and someone else gave a catcall as the brunette stretched up to steal a kiss. When they broke the embrace, she looked at him hotly. "Paris, would you come back here with me? There's something I want to show you."

She took his hand and led him back to bedroom, occasioning a murmur from the other girls, although whether it was of disapproval or jealousy was hard to tell. Once she had closed the door behind them, she led Paris over to the window and bade him look out at the Nashville skyline. "Don't look back until I tell you," she urged, and he obediently followed her instructions with a grin on his face.

"You can turn around now," he heard, and when he looked back he found her standing by the bed wearing nothing but her boy-short underwear. As he stared, she covered her breasts and looked at him shyly. "I don't know what you must be thinking . . ." she started, but he interrupted.

"Darlin," he said in his best western accent, "I'm thinkin' we're both over-dressed." With that he began slipping off his own clothing while the brunette squealed, peeled off her panties and hopped onto the bed.

Out in the living area, the other girls had scooted near each other and were discussing the situation in low tones. "I knew something like this would happen," the bride declared. "Ever since James broke up with her, she's turned into a real slut."

"Well you can't blame her," one of the twins spoke up. "I mean, he is a real hunk."

"Missy!" her sister said disapprovingly.

"Don't get uppity with me, I saw the way you were dancing with him."

"What I want to know is how come Tara got him?" the tall blonde demanded, and the other girls snickered.

"Ooohhh," a long, drawn-out moan of pleasure came from the bedroom, and the five remaining girls stared at each other and then burst into laughter.

"Sounds like she's going to have some good memories," the bride chortled, and the rest of them laughed again. But when the next moan came, louder and deeper, the laughter was cut short.

"Wow!" the other twin exhaled. "What is he doing to her?" she asked uncertainly, a hint of envy in her voice.

Then came a long string of moans, and the whole group turned to stare at the door. As they listened, the moaning grew louder and faster: "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK!" Abruptly the brunette began to yell at the top of her voice as the group listened in amazement. Finally there was one last shriek, this one louder than the rest; then it abruptly cut off and the room fell silent.

The girls in the living area looked at each other uneasily until the tall blonde stood. "I'm going to check on Tara to make sure she's alright," she said determinedly. She marched back to the bedroom and went inside, pulling the door to behind her to preserve her friend's modesty.

For long minutes they heard nothing. Then, just as one of the twins got up to go over to the bedroom and see what was going on, a loud "Oh my god!" came through the door. The twin hastily retreated. "He can't do her too, can he?" she asked uncertainly. Then they heard, "Oh god, oh god, oh god," and the other twin giggled. "I guess he can."

But the snickering stopped when they heard a loud slap followed by a feminine yelp. There was a pause followed by half-a-dozen smacks, each punctuated by a cry, though whether of pain, passion or both they couldn't tell. Then a hoarse female voice screamed out, "Aaauggh!" before the room again fell silent.

The more intrepid twin hopped to her feet again. "We better see if she's OK." She grabbed her sister's hand. "C'mon, Trish, we'll be safe together."

Trish clearly wasn't as confident as her sister, but she allowed herself to be led into the bedroom.

The bride and her sister, the maid of honor, craned their necks slightly, hoping to hear something that would tell them what was going on. But once again, the bedroom was silent. "You don't suppose he's murdered them, do you?" the bride asked anxiously. "Could he be some sort of psychopath?"

Her sister snorted. "Those didn't exactly sound like cries of anguish to me."

"Yeah, but . . ."

Just then they head sounds of movement from the room, then silence again. The two sisters exchanged glances. From the dark came "Ooooh," followed a moment later by an almost identical "Ooooh." There was another pause and then the two in the living area clearly heard, "Oh, yes, just like that." Seconds later, a nearly identical voice called out, "Oh my god, that's so good."

Now there was no question about foul play, just a pair of highly excited female voices. The bride and her sister were frozen, listening to the moaning and gasping with rapt attention. Finally, the older girl stood up determinedly. "I've got to see what's going on in there. Are you coming?"

The bride shook her head, and her sister tiptoed over to peek into the bedroom. There were no lamps lit, but the city lights coming through the window were more than sufficient to reveal the pornographic scene to her. She stood there in the doorway for long minutes, riveted by what she saw. Finally she tore herself away and returned to the couch where the bride was waiting anxiously.

"Well, what's going on? What are they doing in there?" she asked, half apprehensively, half aroused.

Her sister shook her head in awe. "He's got the twins draped over the end of the bed side by side. He's doing both of them, swapping back and forth, one after the other." She hesitated, recalling the scene. "I've never seen anything like it. I don't know what he's doing to them, but they're both out of their minds, moaning and crying and begging him never to stop. It's the hottest thing I've ever witnessed."

"But what about Tara and Mindy?"

Her sister shook her head. "Passed out cold." She snickered. "Tara is snoring like a handsaw."

Behind her, a passionate duet broke out as the sisters each climbed the orgasmic stairway to heaven. The climactic cry of one was followed seconds later by an almost identical moan. Then the room fell silent.

The two sisters had been staring at the door; now they turned to look at each other. "What do we do now?" the bride asked tremulously. A strange look came over her sister's face. "I don't know about you, but I'm going in there and see if that cowboy has anything left in the tank."

"No, you can't! You're married!"

The older girl was unmoved. "You didn't see the expressions on the twins' faces. What he was doing to them - it was otherworldly." She shook her head determinedly. "I'm not gonna pass up on that."

She turned on her heel and walked unhesitatingly to the bedroom doorway. "Hey, Cowboy," she spoke into the darkness, "how about taking me for a ride too?"

The bride turned away in shame and embarrassment, but when she heard her sister's moans begin, she couldn't help but scoot down the couch closer to the bedroom. It was hard to hear distinctly, but her imagination helped fill in the voids. The slapping sound of two bodies making contact repeatedly was hard to miss.

Then the slapping stopped and the bride heard whispers she couldn't interpret. The springs on the bed creaked as bodies shifted, then all was silent. After a long pause, she heard her sister's voice clearly: "Oh, god, I can feel it. It's so big, I don't know if I can take it." That was followed by a grunt that turned into a squeal. "Oh god, oh god, oh god, you're all the way in." The bedsprings protested again, then settled to a slow steady rhythm. "Yes," her sister's voice husked, "oh, yes, it's starting to feel good now." The rhythm of the springs picked up the pace. "Oh my god, I never knew it would feel like this. Oh god, keep fucking my ass, keep fucking my ass! Yes, just like that. Oh, god, I can't believe it, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna, yes, yes, YES!" Her sister gave one last piercing cry and the bedsprings went quiet.

The bride had covered her ears as she lay on the sofa, not wanting to hear her sister's cries. The two of them had always been close, but what the bride had heard just now sounded more like a bitch in heat than the sister she loved and looked up to.

When she pulled her hands away and opened her eyes, Paris was standing there wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. She tried not to stare at the cock that somehow, after all that had gone on, still looked obscenely swollen and ready. "I guess you've come to fuck me too," she said.

He grinned at her. "Why no, darlin'," he drawled, "you're the bride. I figure that wouldn't be right." He cocked his head to one side. "Unless, of course, you wanted me to take you." He gestured down to her lap. "It's not hard to tell what your body wants right now."

Her eyes shot down and she was mortified to see the dark evidence of her arousal on her white shorts.

He came over and sat down beside her on the couch, being careful not to touch her. "Now the way I see it," he told her, "you can listen to your conscience, say goodbye to me and go home to your fiancé with a clear conscience." He shook his head, a sorrowful expression on his face. "Only thing is, you're always gonna remember this weekend and wonder what you missed out on. You're gonna see your friends and your sister and know they experienced something you'll never have." He shook his head again. "Regret - it can eat atcha, y'know?"

He stood up slowly to face her, his stretch briefs at her eye level. "But if you say 'yes,' Darlin, I'm gonna give you a wedding present you'll never forget the rest of your life." He looked at her solemnly. "So what's it gonna be, girl, what's it gonna be?"

She stared up at him for a long moment, then lowered her eyes. "Oh, god," she shuddered. Reaching out, she slipped her fingers under the band of his trunks and pulled them down to reveal that glorious cock.

An hour later, he rose to his feet and tiptoed into the bedroom to recover his clothes. The other five girls were sprawled on the king-sized bed, still sleeping. He pulled a spare blanket out of the closet and draped it over them, then found a second one and brought it out to cover the bride.

He was just about to leave when he heard her voice, a tone of wonder coming through clearly. "All six of us in one night? Hell, you had me at least four times. Who ARE you?"

He winked at her. "Dontcha know, Darlin? I'm an incubus." Then he was gone.

Helene waited until the limousine with the couple she'd been observing pulled up under the arch of the main entrance to the Bellagio. Then she stepped out of the car she'd hired. As she did so, she allowed her white floor-length dress to slip open, revealing her long supple leg - from her black Laboutin stilettos all the way to her hip. She took her time rearranging the dress, ensuring plenty of time for an onlooker to admire what had been revealed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that her target had definitely noticed.

"Eduard," came the sweet voice of the young woman who had also emerged from the limousine, "who are you looking at?"

"It's no one, Esme. I thought for a second I recognized an old friend, but I was mistaken." Smoothly he held out his arm to escort his fiancée into the casino for a night of gambling in Las Vegas.

Once inside, the stylish pair was greeted by another couple with whom they planned to spend the evening. The two girls began to chatter about Esme's upcoming nuptials to Eduard, while the two handsome young men talked sports. The four of them strolled through the casino, following the main walkway until they came to Lily Bar. As the hostess seated them at their table in the lounge area, Eduard noticed the woman he'd spotted outside seated alone at the bar. He quickly took a seat positioned to have a view of her. Once more her skirt had slipped open, and Eduard found it hard to pay attention to his companions.

The dark-haired woman lifted a cocktail glass to her lips, and now Eduard's eyes were drawn to her halter top. It tied at the woman's neck, leaving her back completely bare. Then, as she set the glass down on the bar, the halter gaped open to reveal most of the side of her breast. It was obvious that she wore no bra, nor needed one.

"So what do you think, Eduard?" Esme asked, and the groom-to-be was jerked out of his reverie, however reluctantly. Not wanting to be embarrassed again, he did his best to focus on his fiancé. But once, when he glanced in the dark-haired woman's direction, he saw her staring intently back at him. A thrill shot through his loins.

After several cocktails and some hors d'oeuvres, the party of four arose to make their way to the gambling tables. As they left, Eduard managed to exchange glances with the woman in white once more, and he felt a powerful desire burgeoning within him.

When they reached the blackjack table, Eduard made a show of checking his smartphone and cursing ostentatiously. "What is it, darling?" Esme inquired.

"Those idiots in Singapore have managed to turn a minor problem into a crisis. I'm going to have to run up to the room and see if I can straighten this out."

"Do you have to go," the pretty girl pouted.

"I'm afraid so, babe." He turned to the others. "Can you look after Esme for me? I'll be back as soon as I can."

When the others agreed, Eduard hurried away, returning to Lily Bar by a circuitous route so he wouldn't be seen. To his enormous relief, the woman in white was still at the bar. He saw a stool open beside her and quickly sat down. "Hello," he said warmly, "my name is Eduard. It's a shame a woman as beautiful as you is all alone tonight."

She smiled to acknowledge his compliment. Taking another sip of her cocktail, she replied in a French accent, "It's a shame that a man like you is not alone tonight."

He smiled. "True, but I think I could arrange to be alone under the right circumstances."

She looked down at the bar demurely. "It is very hard to be alone in a place as noisy as this."

He took one of her gloved hands in his. "I have a suite upstairs. We could escape all the noise and go up to . . . talk."

She pulled her hand free. "You are a very confident man."

He took her hand again. "I am, especially when I'm inspired by such exceptional beauty."

She smiled at him. "How can I say no to that?" She arose from her seat and allowed him to lead her to the elevators.

Once they were in his suite, he brought her to the window so she could admire the view of Las Vegas at night. "Very beautiful," she murmured.

"Not half so beautiful as you," he husked, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her back into him.

"Now there's a line I expect you use frequently," she laughed.

"No!" he replied sharply, turning her to face him. "I said you were exceptional and I meant it. I swear you have me hypnotized - I haven't been able to stop looking at you since I first saw you."

"And what would your fiancée say if she heard you?" She saw the surprise in his face and hurried on. "I saw the engagement ring on her hand, and I also saw how possessively she clings to you. Do you think a woman can't tell these things?"

"We'll figure out a way to deal with that later. But for now, can't we just forget about her?"

She stared at him for a minute, then reached up, put her hands on his chest and pushed him back away from the window. Then she slowly sank to her knees in front of him and reached for the buckle of his black alligator belt. Soon his pants slipped around his ankles, and she tugged his silk boxers down to rest on top of them. Then she pushed him backwards again lightly, and he found himself seated on a chaise lounge he hadn't realized was there. She encouraged him to lie back on the velvet, his erection now jutting urgently toward the ceiling.

The woman took his manhood in her gloved hand and, holding him at a convenient angle, took a long, lascivious lick. He gasped in ecstasy, not believing the sensations she was creating, not believing his good fortune. She pursed her red-painted lips into a circle and slowly pushed him into her mouth. He groaned out loud. She continued to press down, down, until he belatedly realized that she had taken him into her throat. Then she swallowed and the sensations on his cock almost made him explode.

Without thinking, he reached for her head to take control, but she grabbed his wrists and held them. "No, let me do this for you," she purred, and his head and shoulders dropped back on the upholstery, content to allow this moment to continue as she wanted.

Now her head started to bob up and down, and her tongue began to lash his cock into a frenzy. He gasped again and cried out. He'd had many blowjobs, but nothing had ever felt like this. Somehow she managed to accelerate her pace, and his body arched up involuntarily as he neared the point of no return. He felt tremendous pressure building to a bursting point. Then, as his cum exploded in pulse after throbbing pulse, he screamed at the best orgasm he'd ever had.

She kept her mouth on him, licking and sucking until she had every drop of his essence. His head lolled back on the chaise, and in a minute he was fast asleep.

When she heard him snoring, she grabbed her purse and extracted the tube she'd brought with her. Working swiftly, she checked the time - everything was right on schedule. When she was satisfied, she went into the bathroom to straighten her dress and redo her make-up. Then she returned to the sleeping man and extracted his phone from his pants pocket. A few seconds later she'd sent a text to Esme: "Had an accident in our suite. Need your help!" Then she hurried out.

When Esme and her friends reached the suite, they found the door standing wide open. She rushed inside, calling his name, but when she came upon him asleep on the chaise, she stopped short and stared in disbelief. Then she screamed at the top of her lungs in a mixture of rage and pain. As her friends rushed to her side, she pulled off the engagement ring and flung it at him as hard as she could. Sobbing, she allowed the other couple to lead her away.

Sometime later, Eduard slowly shook off his torpor and staggered into the bathroom for water to splash on his face. But when he saw his reflection in the mirror, he gasped and almost fell. Large red concentric circles had been drawn on his body. At the center of the bullseye was his penis, which had been painted a vivid red. On his abdomen, just below his navel, were the words "I am a cheater."