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Oprah Winfrey: The Phantom of Oprah
by Geminiguy (geminiguy7@hotmail.co.uk)

***

An incubus is a demon in male form who, according to a 
number of mythological and legendary traditions, prays 
upon women in order to have sexual intercourse with 
them. (MF, size, anal, fant, celeb-parody)

***

People say the studio where Oprah Winfrey shoots her 
top rated talk show is haunted. But people talk. 
People spread rumors. There no such things as ghosts 
or anything supernatural, right? Tell that to the 
janitors who have had to clean the studio at night. 
Janitors who have quit after one night or went 
completely insane. Well, I don't know what you can say 
to the ones who've gone insane or even what they can 
say... 

Rumors have gone on since not long after Oprah first 
started her talk show. Former janitors have said that 
after midnight strange music seems to flow from under 
the studio. But there is nothing under the studio... 
No basement. No storage area. No sewers. Nothing. It 
was built from the ground up. It's no wonder some of 
them went insane. 

If you heard spooky organ music coming from out of 
nowhere you might, too... The studio paid no attention 
to the stories. They had no time for such lunacy nor 
would they waste any money to investigate. They just 
decided to start hiring hearing impaired. End of 
story.

Believe or not, Oprah is a very superstitious person. 
A very sexy, full-bodied, big-titted, huge-butted, 
jiggly-thighed superstitious person. But she is a very 
adventurous, 'stare the supernatural in the face' 
person. It makes her wet. Over the years Oprah had a 
lot of 'supernatural sex' if you could call it that. 
She once fucked in a graveyard. Her moans and orgasmic 
shrieks made any people who heard think she was some 
kind of spirit or demon. 

Another time Oprah was gang-banged in a haunted house 
[she outlasted all the guys and still wanted more]. So 
now you know Oprah is superstitious, supernaturally 
adventurous, and loves to fuck. But she never really 
had a supernatural encounter. Maybe her sexual shrieks 
of pleasure spooked the spooks? Not finding anything 
never stopped our luscious-bodied Oprah from 
continuing to be superstitious [you can blame her 
grandmamma for that, all the stories she filled 
Oprah's head with as a child and as a teen] nor stop 
trying to find the unknown [plus the sex was the 
best]. 

Oprah had heard the rumors of the studio being haunted 
but never found anything when she investigated. Then 
again, she'd only did so during the day... It never 
occurred to Oprah that there was a supernatural reason 
the uncanny organ music only played after midnight. It 
had been a long, long time since Oprah had 
investigated and had long since forgotten [with the 
hearing impaired janitors on duty the rumors and 
stories had long since dried up] all about it. 

Oprah had grown much since that time, grown wiser, 
grown richer of course, and grown a hell of a lot 
sexier. Still, time had not taken away her appetite 
for the unknown. If the studio was truly haunted, 
Oprah would find out tonight, though she had no plans 
to do so... Oprah had stayed on set late. She had 
things to do. A woman of her stature's work was never 
done. She was in her office and lost track of the 
time. When the clock on her wall chimed midnight Oprah 
didn't really pay it any mind. But after the chiming 
ceased...

Oprah stopped what she was doing. She cocked her head 
to the side and listened intently. At first she 
thought it was her imagination; but the sound rose 
slowly. As it grew louder Oprah realized it was organ 
music. That's strange, she thought. There wasn't any 
organ in the studio. Oprah was confused at first. She 
didn't then remember the stories. Oprah got up from 
her desk and went out into the hallway, seeking the 
source of the music. Its eerie quality made the hairs 
stand up on her neck, but the supernatural hadn't 
occurred to her just yet... 

Oprah came across the janitor waxing the floor but 
didn't bother to interrupt. The music seemed to come 
from everywhere; it wasn't growing louder but 
something drew her to the backstage area she rarely 
entered, not at all in a very long time. Oprah started 
to sense something was off. She now felt it. That old 
excitement. Oprah found her breathing was irregular. 
Her black-haired pussy grew moist. Oprah snapped her 
fingers. That was it! she thought.

The rumors and stories of the studio being haunted 
returned to Oprah. She grinned to herself. This place 
really has to be haunted, she thought, biting her lip 
excitedly. She didn't know what she hoped to find 
backstage but she found herself drawn here... It was 
dark and dingy back there, props unused in years among 
other long discarded items. Oprah found an old storage 
room in the far back corner. She tried the knob. It 
turned she opened the door slowly. It creaked loudly 
and the smell of decay assaulted her. 

Still Oprah was too excited and nervous to notice. 
Oprah felt, sensed something here... She walked into 
the room. The door slammed behind her. She moaned and 
without thinking rubbed her pussy through her skirt. 
Suddenly there was a noise and the back wall slid 
open. Torch light revealed a stone passage heading 
downward. But - but that's impossible! Oprah thought 
wide-eyed, rubbing her leaking pussy harder. Being 
adventurous as she was, Oprah thought nothing of any 
possible danger and pressed forward...

As she began to descend the stone stairs, all she 
could hear was the sounds of her low heels clicking on 
the stone, her rapid breathing pulsing in her ears and 
the music growing louder now. The stairs spiraled down 
and down until Oprah entered a chamber as big as the 
studio above her. Torch light stabbed into the gloom 
as Oprah tried to locate the source of the music. 
Water dripped down somewhere, adding to the eerie 
feeling. The place looked utterly new, as if it were 
only just built, but felt ancient. 

The feeling of how old the place felt permeated her. 
As she walked through what she thought of as some kind 
of catacomb, she realized the far wall housed many 
smaller chambers, each one dimly lit than the one she 
was in. Oprah chose the one the music seemed to 
emanate from. Her nipples tingled now and her pussy's 
juices soaked her pantyhose. Oprah now wished she'd 
worn panties, she'd blown a lot of money on these hose 
she thought to herself briefly.

Upon entering the new chamber she saw the massive, old 
fashioned organ against the far wall, its long ornate 
pipes snaking up the wall. Ornate candle stands stood 
on either side of the organ and now Oprah could see 
its player. He was shrouded by a long black hooded 
cloak, only his hands visible as he played. Oprah 
moved forward, unable to stop. "W-who are you?" She 
asked boldly. He suddenly stopped playing. He rose and 
turned to her, his hands disappearing into his flowing 
black garb, his face hidden within the shadows of his 
hood. "You know who I am," came a ghastly voice, a 
voice vaguely familiar... 

"I don't..." Oprah lied, her fear matched by her 
horniness, her pussy flowing like a river between her 
full, sexy thighs, her nipples aching. 

"How can you forget..." He raised his hands and tore 
back the hood. "The man you spurned decades ago?!?" He 
roared, the walls seeming to quake around them. 

Oprah gasped. "Vincent?!?" She knew it was him despite 
the changes.

He had been her personally assistant so long ago, a 
tall, handsome man, neat blonde hair, blue eyes, well-
muscled. He had proclaimed his love to her, but she 
only saw him as her assistant and friend. Now his hair 
was long and jet-black, his eyes a flaming red, his 
lips as red as blood, his face, still Vincent's, but 
also that of a demon's. Despite his changes, Oprah was 
one turned on than ever. 

Those who'd seen her naked knew Oprah had massive 
nipples, when they became hard, they were the longest, 
hardest, thickest. That was apparent as Oprah's 
nipples pressed out against her specially made bra for 
a mammoth titties and her light grey turtleneck as if 
all she had on was a paper-thin t-shirt. 

"I loved you," The Vincent demon went on. "I saved my 
virginity for you. And you spurned me... I was ready 
to die for you. But he came. He promised you would be 
mine. I sold him my soul. And he made me into... this. 
The price of my wager. This is my new home," He 
gestured all around him.

He added with a chuckle "The Devil has a fondness for 
Lon Chaney's Phantom Of The Opera... Every night at 
the stroke of midnight this place materializes under 
your studio, and I must play this hideous music. But 
finally you have come to me. Finally I will have what 
is mine..." The Vincent demon tore open his cloak. 

Oprah gasped and gripped her convulsing pussy. "Oh my 
god!" She exclaimed. His body was more man than demon. 
But his manhood... well, it was more 'demonhood'. 
Oprah had fucked some large cocks in her time. But 
this... His cock was about fifteen inches long. And 
very thick. His huge, huge balls hung down below his 
demonic appendage, swollen, full of demon cum. Oprah 
had never been so turned on in her life. 

She began tearing off her clothes and quickly was 
naked before Vincent. He never imagined Oprah's body 
was this amazing... His cock throbbed at the sight. He 
easily picked her up and carried her out of the 
chamber into the next. Oprah clung to him tightly, her 
body writhing against him wantonly.

The only thing in the next chamber was a large bed 
covered in black silk sheets. "I've waited so long for 
this..." He said throatily. He laid Oprah on the bed. 

She spread her legs moaning, presenting her wet, hairy 
pussy for him. He grunted and mounted her. Grabbing 
his cock he slid it into her. She shrieked and clung 
to him. Uncertain, Vincent began moving in and out of 
her slowly. Oprah was able to take over ten inches of 
his cock at first. As he grew more confident and began 
pumping into her he got over thirteen up in her. 

Oprah began to orgasm quickly, the most massive 
orgasms of her life. She came often as he fucked her 
pussy well. They fucked for over an hour before he 
unloaded his demon seed inside Oprah. He pulled out, 
their combined juices oozing off his cock. 

"You're not done already, are you lover?" Oprah said 
sultrily, kneading her giant tits. 

He flashed her a demonic smile. "Never..." 

Oprah grinned back then rolled over onto her hands and 
knees. She wiggled her large butt enticingly.

Vincent leered at the sight a few moments before 
slamming his cock back into her. Oprah gasped in 
surprise. This time he was able to get his full length 
up her. He fucked her hard and deep for over a half 
hour when he decided he want more. He slid his cock 
out and told her to spread her butt cheeks. "Oh, shit, 
I haven't had it up the ass in ages..." She moaned. 
She did as he said and he began working his cock into 
her rectum. 

Oprah was surprised how easily he slid up into her, 
she guessed by demonic magic. Still, her anus was a 
tighter fit than her pussy. He began to fuck her butt 
hard making Oprah multi-orgasm over and over. He 
fucked her butt a good forty-five minutes before he 
dumped another load up her butt. 

This went on and on through the night, Vincent fucking 
her in every position, in her pussy, butt, and even 
her mouth. They laid there in the early morning hours, 
Oprah looking satisfied and thoughtful. Finally she 
turned to her demon lover. "Do you think your boss 
would strike a deal with me?" 

THE END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Celebrity Parody Archive