A Thing She Just Can't Fight Ch. 01byTaLtos6©
*** I'm not sure about the degree of inspiration, but I wrote this not long after seeing 'Constantine', so at least you know how old it is.
This isn't anything like that.
Well, as far as I can tell, anyway. Actually, now that I think about it, it really isn't like that at all.
I just wanted to write something that felt a little nice to me.
She walked along the shore of the lake in a dark mood, keeping an eye open for soda cans, beer cans, and the occasional soda bottle; preferably glass and unbroken, but it didn't matter much and the plastic ones would do.
Anything that she could turn in for the deposit money.
She was scavenging here while she waited for the school to let out so that she could collect her kids and go on home with them in about four hours.
Who knew what they'd eat for dinner that night?
She had about a buck and a half, so that would get them some mac and cheese if all else failed. Oh, and if she lucked out and found a few more cans, she might be able to get a loaf of bread to go with that -- half for their baloney sandwich lunches tomorrow and half with dinner.
You know, wholesome eating.
And it was her day off.
Delia rolled her eyes and wanted to spit, just to be rid of the dust and grit coating her tongue from spending her fucking day off scavenging.
And from needing to.
Just twenty-one, born poorer than dirt and a half-breed at that -- and here she was, doing her best to raise two kids who weren't even her own.
No sir, life to this point sure hadn't been good to Delia very much at all.
She half-assed swung at a horsefly, thinking that if it was going to be much more of a bitch about things, she'd put her whole ass into it and mash the annoying little fuck.
When she'd managed to bait the pest into landing on her arm, she nailed it with a slap far faster than most people could swing. It landed struggling in the water on its back and as she fought to keep her balance, she saw a smallmouth bass come up and take it.
She lost the struggle and fell in with a quiet curse.
That was how she ended up standing in cold, hip-deep water and feeling furious enough to make it boil.
As she wiped the water and her long black hair out of her eyes, she caught the gleam and waited for the ripples in the surface to settle out.
She was standing right next to a spot where she guessed that a bunch of high school kids must have spent an afternoon or evening guzzling beer.
Either that or they were just the usual camo-covered goons and assorted other layabout hicks.
It didn't matter. There were well over a dozen cans here. She bent down to get a few of them, re-wetting her hair in the process, but that couldn't be helped. One after another, she dragged the cans out of the mud and silt and tossed them onto the bank.
After draining the water out of them, she laid them aside and walked back for her knapsack with a small smile. She'd found two full and unopened cans among the others. The law must have shown up and whoever it had been had ditched the unopened ones.
By the 'best before' dates on them, they were still good.
It didn't matter. Delia would nurse her way through those cans as though they contained ambrosia. She didn't drink -- not being able to afford even a six pack most times. She didn't even know if she'd like the stuff, but it was free, so that was something pretty rare for her.
Well, Delia supposed, there had been a cost. Now she was squishing along in flooded sneakers, soaking wet with her clothes sticking to her.
Deciding to go on, she walked slowly for a time, but then stopped.
She could hear breathing; odd-sounding breathing, like ... like somebody who was struggling or working at something while gasping every so often. She turned her head slowly, trying to get a bead on the direction.
It was coming from a cabin set back a ways.
The way that the stupid township had laid out the dirt road around the lake meant that there was lakefront and behind that and the road's right of way, lay the road. Behind that were the cabins; vacation properties, mostly.
From what she could see, the place had been built on a lot which sloped, and so the whole thing was set on concrete pilings. There was a porch at the front of it and that porch was on the highest pilings so that overall, the floor and the porch were at the same level. From where Delia stood, the rear of the place was almost on the ground, but the front edge of the porch was a good ten feet up and was surrounded by a railing.
She was curious, so she headed that way.
After a minute, she was standing under the front of the porch, still listening to the strange breathing. Then she heard a very quiet grunt before who or whatever this was carried on, the breathing gradually getting a bit faster.
Really curious now, she laid her pack down carefully. As she did, she heard and felt a couple of the cans slide against each other and with a gentle wave of her hand, they were suspended along with the rest of her treasures inside of the pack and not able to rattle at all.
She listened and sensed for a moment more and decided that the sounds related to something very likely sexual in nature and that made up her mind.
She looked around and tried to sense for anyone else out here at ground level. With nothing coming to her, she let her skin change from it's regular, run of the mill for around here to what she was inside.
Her clothing faded from view and she stood naked for a second as her dark-skinned body vanished from sight as well right afterwards. Testing the solidness of the porch construction by feel for a moment, she began to climb up silently in the manner of her father's kind.
She'd never met him and only knew what her mother had said of it all before she'd died when Delia was sixteen.
Delia didn't have very much of anything at all to her name, but she'd been given a few questionable gifts in her DNA.
When she got to a point where she could see over the edge, Delia almost gasped herself. In fact, she almost fell clean off.
There was a young man about her own age or a little older, lying naked in the sunshine masturbating. Delia blinked as she stared.
She didn't know him; didn't know a thing about him at all, but he was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen in her life with a sweet, sweet masculine face and long golden curls which lay on his shoulders.
She could see that he was a little tall. He wasn't a body builder for damn sure, though she saw that he didn't carry much fat on him at all and it allowed her to see that he also carried a bit of muscle -- just not a whole lot and Delia liked it on him for that. She'd never had much of a love life worth writing home about, but over the past few years or so, she'd had enough in the way of personal relationships to have come to a decision.
She was so done with big, strong, and stupid.
Her eyes drifted to the toy that he was stroking busily and she liked that sight quite a bit too. She watched as he got a little nearer to his finish and Delia felt a bit of a thrill to watch it, because of the way that he must have felt it beginning and he moved his lovely legs apart a little so that as he wanked and began to groan a little, she watched spellbound as his bag moved with the motions.
Damn, she could even see the balls in there as they jiggled before her.
The only trouble was the wings.
Dark gray and feathered -- and fucking wide, she saw as he flexed them involuntarily from where he was propped against the door of the place. They must span at least a good twenty feet when he opened them fully.
She drew a slow breath and held it as she crawled a little higher, coming over the top of the railing like an invisible spider to stare as he moaned softly one time.
Delia suddenly noticed that she was getting wet. She wondered about it and decided that she couldn't really help it.
She just couldn't really get a handle on why.
She'd seen this kind around before now and then, just passing through or on some sort of errand work. They were visible to people when it suited them and not noticeable at all to them if it didn't.
Unless you were either one of them or one of the others -- or something else with the eyes for it, no one ever saw their wings at all.
But Delia saw them all because they couldn't hide from her eyes and most of them didn't really do a thing for her.
So why did this one seem to move her somehow?
And just what the fuck was one of them doing here of all places and stroking off to beat the band?
She went fully into what she was and crawled a little higher, feeling the way that her tail found the railing and wrapped itself around for a moment. She also felt the tip of it as it swayed in the air out of her tense arousal.
She crawled down on the side toward him and began to move forward, drawn to him in spite of herself and her usual need to be cautious -- especially around one of these.
Whenever they saw her, she'd noticed them start, often doing a double or even a triple take in her direction. It always ended with them figuring out what she was and moving on, sometimes with a sneer sent her way.
But she'd never seen one of them do something like this before.
She didn't even know that they even could.
He opened his eyes a little and she froze, forcing herself to be still inside as well. Most but not all of these could sense her, just as she could sense them; every one of them -- and the thought brought her a small shock.
She hadn't sensed this one, hadn't known that it was one of them up here taking a break from their errands for a little bit of pleasure in the sunshine.
How the hell did that square with everything that she'd learned and knew?
It didn't make sense.
He closed his eyes again and stroked on just as she felt a little of the lake water in her hair run down over her cheek to drip from her chin and a new shock came to Delia.
She looked down and she saw the droplets of water that her dripping hair was leaving on the sun-baked planks.
He'd missed that. He hadn't noticed the water appearing out of nowhere to leave dark spots on the wood. Boy, he must really be feeling it, she thought.
She tilted her head, watching his beautiful face as it contorted a little in his joyful wanking. She decided that he must have a touch of redhead in him somewhere in spite of the blonde. When he'd opened his eyes, she'd seen that his irises were a deep green tone. Yet his eyelashes were almost as blonde as his hair.
An odd sort of tone, but she decided that she really liked that because it was attractive to her and it was rather rare.
The way that he was working that thing, Delia thought that it was a wonder that he wasn't sweating up a storm here. But then she realized that they didn't sweat and she looked more closely.
Sure enough, this lovely boy was sweating, though not a lot.
He let out a little cry and she knew that he was now very close. Watching that nice thing in his hand was making her hungry. What would he do when he came?
She saw nothing to catch it with, no cloth or rag, not even a Kleenex. She imagined it as it shot a ways into the air, the rest drooling out like whitish lava from a volcano over his fist and down onto those delicious-looking balls of his.
Such a waste, she thought.
He only wanted it out so that he'd feel better.
Delia had a better idea and wondered if she had the guts to implement it.
She crawled forward once more, thinking of whether she'd cast a shadow across him and if he'd feel it if it happened.
He was getting so close now. It was time to either leave or ...
She rose on her knees on the opposite side of his free hand and she pulled back her hair as she lowered her head.
His prick smelled so warm and nice, and the clear droplet that she could see as it was tortured by his foreskin smelled even better. There would be a lot of juice to this boy, she thought. There had to be, somebody as beautiful as him?
There just had to be plenty.
She wondered for a second about a few things at once. Would it feed her if she took it, or would it burn her -- that old good-versus-evil thing?
Delia rationalized it in the next second. She might have the shape and appearance of something which could be said to be evil, but she couldn't think of a thing that she'd done lately to even bother a priest in a confessional over, not that she was bound in any way like some humans were.
She hadn't asked for her miserable life. Nobody had even said to her that as what she was, she was bad by nature.
Well, ... not anybody who'd been more than a halfwit back there where she'd been born.
Or the preacher and his wife, though she realized that she was splitting hairs here, since they were much the same thing, only capable of using bigger and more colorful old biblical terms to inspire and control their flock of fools.
Nobody, least of all her father, had given a flying fuck about the little bundle at her mother's breast who squalled just like any other -- when she wasn't shifting in and out of something which caused regular, God-fearing folks to fear her.
Against her mother's will, a rather religious nurse had brought two priests and a rabbi, but when she even noticed them and the way that they disturbed her dozing, they all lay dead minutes later out in the parking lot - a suitable punch line for a very bad joke brought to life in living color by a baby who hadn't had any idea what she was doing at the time. They'd all gone mad and beaten each other to death.
Right after they'd torn the meddling nurse apart and just before the first of the police cruisers had pulled in with it's screaming siren and flashing lights.
Nobody had asked Delia anything.
So Delia wasn't going to ask if she could have his seed. He was going to ditch it anyway in about another minute or less.
She lunged then, pulling his hand away as she lowered her open mouth onto what she supposed was a heavenly shaft. Well it was rock hard and it sure tasted very warm and good.
She didn't know about heavenly.
It might have been, if she could have had it inside of her, but she knew she had to make do with trying to get a small meal out of him here.
His eyes opened as she knew that they would. She could feel that without even looking. She bobbed and sucked and licked as fast as she could, trying to coax his gush for him.
Delia didn't want to put any bullshit acting into it, but she did want to show him that she felt a little of this, and so she made little sounds as she went at it; just short little quiet groans as softly as she could.
She wanted it to be good for him -- so that he might be good to her by allowing her to have the meal of his semen.
She only hoped like hell that he didn't try to smite her for it.
His voice came to her in a garbled mess, crying out in shock and alarm -- so she knew that he'd seen her now, truly seen her for what she was. She was amazed to hear a bit of fear in it as well and it shocked her. The only good thing was that she also heard -- somewhere in that tortured mess -- the first real cry of his coming release.
He didn't soften as she'd feared a little that he would if he were afraid. She even wondered about that.
How could someone like him be afraid?
And why had he not tried to smite her yet? Maybe he thought that to strike her would cause him pain as well if it caused her teeth to snap shut.
She slowed for a moment and looked up with her mouth full. His pretty face was wide-eyed as he stared at her. She realized then that she was still holding his other hand and it felt really good to feel that he wasn't struggling -- well, not much.
So she slipped her fingers in between his and began to softly stroke the back of his thumb with hers.
He stopped struggling and she felt his fingers relax for an instant before they tightened just a little against hers in what felt like acceptance.
She let him go for a moment and raised her head a bit so that he could see the way that she let her long tongue slide past her lips to worm its way down along his shaft, over his very warm scrotum and in between his cheeks until the soft and pointed tip of it tickled his anus very gently for a moment.
He gasped and she reversed the stroke to pull her tongue back and she smiled past her long teeth, hoping that he wouldn't find her too ugly as she cupped his balls very gently with her free hand and squeezed just a little as she tried to put some affection into it.
She wondered what to say in the moment that he hopefully had left. Her mother had told her once that the two kinds speak very different languages, but that each understood the speech of the other so she gave it her best shot, grinning and weaving her head back and forth a little.
"Bahdpa dah-yeEEEEn a teenh, sheeAAhh."
She almost laughed out loud the next moment.
He spoke to her in good old-fashioned plain English, asking in a tight voice if she meant that she wouldn't hurt him.
She realized that he knew that her statement could have at least seven meanings because she'd been too general in her choice of words.
She smiled at him, feeling pleasant wonder over how much harder he was getting in seconds now.
She pulled his hand to the back of her head gently and felt the way that his fingers slid into her mane as she smiled quickly and licked his hardness to the end, sliding her tongue in a circular motion as though she were polishing his knob.
It was the strangest thing, but his little gasp of pleasure felt suddenly very important to Delia.
He felt something a little rough with his little finger against the back of her neck for an instant, but there was just too much here for him to process and he forgot about the detail as he tightened his gentle grasp on her hair and his finger moved away into her mane.
"Bayt-so rrRackthha, ateenh, sheeaAhh, Dokkhet shahh?" she smiled as warmly as she could before she took him into her mouth again. She'd been more clear that time, calling him very beautiful and asking for his seed.
He got it then for sure as she felt the way that he helped to gently pull and ease up on her hair when she bobbed up and down, accepting the hold that she'd offered him. It took him from his nervousness at finding a long-toothed demon holding his prick in her mouth to the point where he bucked a little and cried out a lot as his eyes went to her little horns and then locked onto her reptilian eyes.
And Delia had her fine-tasting meal.
She was fastidious about it, not missing a single drop of what surged out of him. She moaned and hummed her soft and quiet appreciation to him as she sensed more about him.
What she learned caused her to lift one of his legs so that she could wet his anus a lot more. His soft sounds delighted her, since she was unsure of exactly how to go about something like this.
She sat back on her heels just a bit as he watched her cover her finger with the little of his gift to her which coated the inside of her mouth. She moved toward him a little more, drawn somehow, though still a little careful and never taking her eyes from his face.
"You're so beautiful," she sighed softly as she slid her finger inside of him slowly.
Delia was so pleased to see the rest of his uncertainty leave him as his eyes closed and he groaned for her very softly.
He turned his head a little and opened his eyes to look into hers from only inches way, watching as her irises opened and closed a little.
"Why?" he asked.
Her smile widened as she licked her lips, "Because I saw you and I like you, that's all. I saw a chance to do something for you and I hoped to have your seed if you'd let me."
She pressed into him and he moaned, his head tilting back in pleasure. Delia put her arm around his shoulders gently and laid her lips against his, being mindful of her teeth as she slid her tongue into his mouth to touch his very softly.