Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Darkness (P.S.  Series-- Part 1)
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   He appeared to me at my window, as if in a dream.  Due to the storm
outside, I could see his silouhette only when the lightning flashed.  I
ducked my head under the covers, as thought to ward off this vision, and
through the low-rumbing thunder, I did not hear the latch unlock from the
inside of the window, nor did I hear the window raise to permit him entry.

   Moments drifted by like years, and finally I gained the courage to look
over the covers at my small room.  The apparition was not at my window any
longer.  Everything was as it should have been, and I wondered if I had
experienced a lucid dream.

   A burst of lighting lit up my entire room, and suddenly, panic-stricken,
I saw that I was not alone.  In an armchair on the opposite end of my room
sat a figure as still as stone, except for the pale green eyes that bored
into me.

   I tried to scream, opened my mouth even, but no sound came forth.  At
seeing this, the figure spoke in a voice gravelly and rumbling as the
thunder.

   "I apologize for your lack of voice, however I cannot permit our being
interrupted."

   At hearing this, I was immediately terrified.  Thoughts of murder and
rape and worse flew through my mind.

   Another bolt of lighting struck, and this time I could see that the
figure had risen from the chair and was only a few feet from the foot of
the bed.  It was certainly a man, with nordic features and long black hair,
well-built and very tall.  He seemed almost to be from another time, with
cotton tunic and pants.

   Again, I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.  At seeing
this, my visitor responded,"There is no need to be alarmed.  I mean you no
harm." He moved forward to the edge of my bed.  I was already sitting
straight up, wearing only my nightly t-shirt, trying to keep the lower half
of my body from being exposed.

   He reached out slowly and touched my hair.  "Red, such a beautiful
color."I cringed, expecting him to yank on my hair or something similar,
but he just stroked it a few times, lightly.

   My eyes were downturned, to avoid looking at his face.  He gently placed
a finger beneath my chin and raised my head with no resistance.  This was
the first time my body had betrayed me in such a manner, and I became angry
with myself for being unable to scream.

   However, when my eyes met his, I saw that they were not only eyes, but
mirrors of the palest green, deeply set, and filled with compassion and
something else I could not quite place.

   He continued to stroke my hair and look into my eyes, and gradually a
calm came over me which I could not explain.  I no longer wanted to scream,
but desired to ask a question of my apparition.

   He seemed to sense my confusion, and permittied me to speak.  "Who are
you,"I asked quickly, knowing I would get no reasonable answer.  "Are you
real?" With that he reached down to lift my hand to his lips, which were
slightly parted and very warm on this cool night.  "I am very much real. 
But we needn't talk anymore."

   I tried to say something else, but he placed one cool finger to my lips
and I understood that no more words were required.

   Looking into his eyes again, I felt my calm change to anticipation, and
a faint tingling inside let me know that my body was already betraying
itself.  I could see that he had noticed the change as well, and he smiled
a small, devious smile indicating as much.

   By now he was sitting on the bed, and he leaned over and nudged my ear
gently with his nose and lips.  I felt the blood rushing hot to my face,
and the wetness between my legs was becoming more apparent with each softly
panting breath.  I was no longer in control of myself.  This demon or angel
had control of my body and was playing my increasing lust like a lute.

   He pushed me gently back of the thick pillows lining the top of my bed
and nestled his face in my hair before raising up to kiss me fully on the
mouth.  While his tounge gently invaded my mouth, and mine his, I thought I
felt a slight sharpening of his tooth, but as I was becoming more filled
with lust it was quickly ignored.

   My new lover pulled my thin t-shirt over my head, exposing my pale skin
and large nipples.  He was still fully clothed, but I could see the bulk of
his manhood straining for freedom, and though it may have been a trick of
the light, I was a little afraid.  Until this point I had not fully
considered the position I was in, nor did my situation stay the same.  It
seemed to be evolving due to my increased arousal.

   I was pulled from my inner thoughts bye the feeling of one hand gently
pressing open my thighs.  I resisted only a moment before looking into his
eyes, then all caution was abandoned.  Slowly, teasingly, he he pressed one
long, thin finger deep inside of me, pushing against my inner walls until I
could take no more.  Softly I whispered that I was at the edge, and laughed
in a throaty rumble before he withdrew his finger excruciatingly slowly.

   I lay panting gently for a moment, thinking about my world turned
upside-down, before realizing that he still had all of his clothes, while I
had none.  He seemed to read my mind and began slowly and neatly removing
his clothes, more to torture me than anything else.

   When fully unclothed, he appeared to be made of marble, and indeed his
skin was cold as such.  However, his most intimate parts were hot, as if
made of molten metal that had only begun to cool.

   I had recovered somewhat from my near-orgasm, but now my lust for him
was strong and I was writhing on the bed in anticipation.  He was being
slow and deliberate in coming to me, another torture, but finally he
settled his strong body over mine and gently inserted the head of his
manhood into me.

   Though he was gentle, he was much larger than I had expected, and for
the first few soft strokes my legs tried to close.  However, he was patient
and gave me time to adjust to his length and girth.  During this time he
teased me by licking and sucking at my nipples, and pinching them til they
were sore.

   Finally I was able to comfortably accomodate him, and he set a pace of
slow lovemaking, gentle but firm, and soon I began to whimper for more.  I
begged him to fuck me harder, and he obliged.

   At the moment I felt myself begin to climax, I felt the hot rush of his
semen inside me and simultaneously his lips and teeth on my neck.  I felt a
quick sting and warmth there.  This heightened my climax to something I had
never felt, and shortly I passed out.

   When I came to, he was gone, but I could still smell the night air he
carried in with him, and I was still sore from our lovemaking.

   I wait every night, but he has never returned.  The only things he left
behind were a black long-stemmed rose and a single card bearing the letters
"P.S."
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   I hope you enjoyed this story.  If you have and comments for me, please
feel free to email me at starchelle0@gmail.com.  Check back for more
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   starchelle