Incubus

Scintilla was in her own world, and her world was gold.

A gentle breeze rustled the field of corn that enveloped her. A lingering smell of faraway lands and exotic locales followed in the wake of it, mixed with the familiar scent of the fields. The breeze subsided, and the trickling of the nearby spring gained dominance once again. Scintilla was barefoot, clad only in her day-to-day toga. She enjoyed the feel of the soil between her toes as she skipped through the fields. A blissful smile was fixed on her lips, the glittering ruby lips of a girl on the very cusp of womanhood. She smiled because she was carefree; because she had received many promising invitations from suitors all around Latium. But mostly she smiled because she loved the moment.

Once at the spring, Scintilla plumped down before it and unceremoniously dipped her feet into it. She yelped slightly as the cold water enveloped them, washing away the mud and fatigue that had set into them over the day. She lay back, resting on her elbows as she let the spring revitalize her and the lazy afternoon sun bake her skin. She withdrew her feet from the spring and let herself slide down onto her back, closed her emerald eyes, and pursed her lips. And her mind wandered.

Rushing waves crashed into the rocks nearby. She was lying on an idyllic beach of light, golden sand. The air tasted of salt and the sea. There was a stranger there, tall and strapping and bronzed, muscular and scarred. He had the look of a fighter, a pitfighter. A gladiator.

His skin was glazed with sweat. His muscles bulged beneath his skin as he walked towards her. He knelt down next to her and leaned over her.

They kissed. She could smell him clearly, a heady, manly odour. His kiss was rough, his tongue commanding. She could feel his hands grasping her head and thigh. He firmly but slowly moved his hand across her thigh, down towards her...

Scintilla opened her eyes abruptly. The breeze had picked up again, but something was wrong. It came from the east this time, and the smell was different. It was thick and pungent, almost vulgar. But at the same time, it aroused her. She felt herself bite her lip, and she noticed that her toga was coming loose. Her left breast was exposed, the nipple firm and supple. She could feel a tingling sensation just beneath her navel. Her breathing was ragged and hard.

Something made her look around, a feeling that she was being watched. But she could see nothing. The tall stalks of corn hid her from the outside world, a wall that hid her from prying eyes. The breeze picked up again. This time, she could almost make out words in the wind. Like someone was whispering to her.

Meus caritas... tu amo...tu concupiscero...

She could feel something grab her arms firmly. Her nostrils were filled with the odour of a man; sweat and blood and lust, pungent and sharp. She gasped, her eyes firmly closed.

Meus caritas...

She could feel a tongue sliding across her neck. It felt rough as it went up towards her cheek. She could feel a hand on her left breast, holding it firmly, slowly massaging it. She moaned slightly.

Her lips touched his, and a tongue entered her mouth. It was a firm and solid kiss, a dominating one. Shivers shot down her spine as it rummaged in her mouth. He was playing with her left nipple with a finger, stroking it and rubbing it. She felt her toga being peeled off. He pinched her left nipple, hard. She let out a loud yelp, then bit her lip. It felt good.

His hand left her breast, and her legs were spread apart. She could feel something touch her labia. It was hot, and hard, and pulsating. She wanted it.

Tu amo...

She could feel him slide inside her. His penis was large, long and wide. Scintilla was a virgin, but it didn't hurt as she had been told it might.

She moaned loudly.

He slid back, and pushed back in. His hands pinned her arms again, and he started grinding into her in long, rough strokes. She moaned again, louder still. She could feel herself stretched around him, his thick member almost violently entering her, again and again. Her toes tingled, and an almost electrical current flowed up towards her groin.

Tu concupiscero...

She came. She shook and shivered, her flesh pulsating with heat through the thin film of sweat. She could barely breathe from the intensity of it. Her mind wavered, and Scintilla passed out.

When she woke up, the sun had fallen dramatically. There was a chill to the air as the evening approached. Scintilla could hear her name being called from beyond the field. She was still shivering from pleasure.

- - -

Scintilla came back to the spring every day for a full year, but he never came back. In the end, she married a budding senator, twenty years her senior. But no matter how she tried, she could never give herself fully to her husband. She could always feel him between them, that invisible spectre that had pleasured her so, and spoiled her to every man for the rest of her life.