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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This story is copyright (c) 2006. All rights reserved.
It may be posted to free sites as long as no changes have
been made to the story, and the author name remains
attached.
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My Sweet Incubus
By Phoebe (phoenlxarlzona@aol.com)
Sometimes love is so strong, it never dies. (MF,
fantasy)
** 3:15am
My every nerve ending sizzled as if on fire. The
pleasure was so intense that I gasped for air, hardly
able to bear it. He pressed by body into the sweaty
sheets as he thrust into me, faster and faster, with
the sure ease of familiarity.
I was in a daze, he always did this to me, I couldn't
control my emotions even if I tried, his body was
overpowering, his sexual talents were masterful. All I
could do was respond to his need and that response
turned me into his willing whore... night after night.
I would do anything to have him, to keep this
lovemaking in motion for as long as possible. He was a
god, my love god.
A moan escaped my parched lips as I felt my lover's
body tense. I knew it would not be long now, I knew
that he was on the knife edged precipice of orgasm. I
couldn't wait for him, my body responded to his without
my consent. I bucked against him, grabbing tight,
holding him in me and groaning loudly as my mind went
blank and my body and mind exploded beneath him.
** Two Months earlier:
It had been like this every night for the past two
months. The first night that it had happened, I was
lying in my bed sound asleep after an emotionally
draining day. Then suddenly a man was climbing on top
of me. He fumbled with my nightgown, pulling it away
from my lower body.
That moment is burned into my brain. Those first few
flashes of total and complete fear, my skin crawling
and my breath catching in my throat. I was paralyzed
with fear and horror, my mind wouldn't accept what was
happening to me as the stranger forced my knees apart
with his and then fumbled again as he pushed his hot
erect shaft against me and then in one violent thrust,
into me.
In that instant of fullness, as he thrust into me, I
knew who the man was. I knew who was shoving me down
into the mattress with each powerful thrust, taking my
breath away. As my body began to respond, I cried out
in passion and relief! I loved my attacker and would
give myself to him any way he wanted.
I can still remember that first time; the wonderful
feeling of comfort and love as he thrust into me again
and again, making those little grunting pleasure
sounds; sounds that I thought I would never hear again.
We made love in one long all-night session. He held me
down and fucked me like a madman, staring into my eyes
as he used my body for his pleasure. When he'd cum in
an intense satisfied way, it would be my turn to climb
on top of him and use him like he had just done to me.
I milked him, cooling my heat, making him mine, holding
him down with the my palms of my hands on his chest,
finding just the right spots as I expertly maneuvered
his manhood deep within me, riding him in just the
right way to bring myself to a glorious orgasm, over
and over again!
** 3:55am
"Oh god Karen, I'm cumming," he whispered into my ear,
breathlessly.
I held him tight as he thrust one last time and ground
himself against me, filling me with his pleasure, his
body jerking again and again, his heart pounding in his
chest. All the while, making his little grunting sounds
as he shoved deep into me and held... I wanted to keep
him in me forever, just like that.
We lay there for a long time, listening to each other's
heated breathing, but eventually, he pulled out of me,
leaving me with an intense feeling of abandonment and
disappointment. We had suddenly becoming two, when only
moments before we were one. I clung to him for a moment
longer, trying to stop him from pulling out me, but he
was strong and just like every night before I felt him
softening and then pulling out of my body.
** 6:33am
I woke to the sound of birds singing and early morning
light streaming in through my bedroom blinds. I knew
what I would find, because it had been the same for the
past two months. Slowly sitting up in bed, I could see
my reflection in the mirrored closet doors across the
room from me. What I saw was a women of almost 30, in a
rumpled bed with the sheets tangled around her limbs
and no one else in the room.
There was the usual feeling of loss and fear of
insanity and depression. All of these emotions came
crashing down on me each morning when I realized that
Jack had not really been there. That it had all been a
dream. Intellectually I knew what had been happening
every night wasn't real, it was just that... it
'seemed' so real.
The first night that it happened, had been a week after
Jack died. Of course, we hadn't made love for the last
6 months of his life, he was just too sick. That first
night I just chalked my dream up to a vivid imagination
and my sadness mixed with guilt at having finally lost
my husband and lover to cancer.
But then came the next night and the sex was even more
intense. No matter how hard I tried, I never seemed to
be able to tell what time it was when Jack came to me,
or even were we were. It was as if we were in another
world and the only thing of importance was that we were
together, making love to each other without a care in
the world. Just like it used to, just like in our
College days, when we had first met.
After the first couple of weeks, I accepted the dreams.
I actually looked forward to them when I went to bed at
night. I knew they were just very vivid dreams, more
vivid that real life seemed to be. But the one thing I
couldn't understand was the state of my body every
morning. I always woke up feeling like I'd just been
royally fucked, just like back in our College days.
Only now it was every night without fail.
** 6:45am
With a quiet groan I climbed out of bed. Whether I
liked it or not, I had to start the day. My daughter
Deidre would be awake soon and there was breakfast to
make and she needed to be off to school on time.
As I stood, I felt momentarily sick. Running to the
bathroom I just barely made it to the toilet before I
vomited up my dinner from the night before. Then
leaning over the toilet bowl with my hands on the seat
and my face over the hole I retched again even though I
had nothing else to expel. After several more minutes I
finally straitened up to look at my reflection in the
bathroom mirror. My eyes widened as I realized that the
nausea I was feeling was just like the morning sickness
I'd experienced when I was pregnant with Deidre.
I mentally shook myself to clear the fuzziness from my
brain and almost laughed at the absurdness of that
thought. It would have been funny if I hadn't felt so
wretched. I knew I couldn't be pregnant, I hadn't been
with a man in over half a year and my dreams certainly
wouldn't count.
Then the thought crossed my mind that I might be sick.
Really sick. After all, when you've spent a year with a
gravely ill husband and the last half of that year
knowing that it was only a matter of time before he
would be dead, well, it makes you extra sensitive to
disease and illness. I was now solely responsible for
our daughter and I wasn't going to let things wait like
Jack had.
After getting Deidre breakfast and bundling her off to
school, I called our family doctor and was lucky enough
to get an appointment that very morning. But that was
were my luck stopped. I know what I am about to say is
just plain impossible, but after a complete
examination, my doctor assured me that I wasn't sick.
He insisted that I was approximately 8 weeks pregnant.
I didn't know what to say, how could I tell this man
that Jack was too sick to make love to me and had been
for over 6 months prior to his death. If I said
anything like that, the doctor would assume that I had
cheated on my husband. What else would anyone think?
I went straight home and sat down on the bed, the bed
were I was experiencing vivid dreams of making
passionate love to my "dead" husband. It really did
seem real to me, but that was impossible. I sat on that
bed for the rest of the day, running everything through
my mind, again and again, trying to figure out what had
happened to me. What 'was' happening to me?
Weird scenarios began running through my head. Maybe
someone had drugged me and had sex with me over and
over again, and I'd just "thought" it had been Jack. I
couldn't believe that, but I also couldn't believe that
Jack's ghost had made me pregnant either.
That's when I decided to try an experiment. That very
night. It would be better than doing nothing and much
better than questioning my sanity.
I would set up Jack's video recorder with the extended
timer that I would be set to go off every ten minutes
for three minutes, all through the night. That way the
camera would have enough memory to last all night and
if my dreams were anything to go by, our lovemaking
sessions were much longer than 10 minutes. So if
something was happening, then it would be caught on
video.
** 10:30pm
The last thing I did that night was set the video
camera up on the highboy across the room from the foot
of my bed. I turned it on the time delay setting and
then went to bed.
It took what seemed like forever to go to sleep. I was
so wound up, so tense, but finally the strain of the
day took over and my mind drifted... I know this
because sometime during the night Jack came to me again
and climbed into bed with me.
I felt the bed jiggle and tried to sit up. I wanted to
ask him what was happening; I wanted him to tell me
that I wasn't going crazy. But then he held me close,
pulling me up against his warm naked body, spooning me
from behind. I could feel his hot masculine weapon
hardening against my rump and suddenly I was no longer
worried about who he was or that I was pregnant and
couldn't explain why.
I reached behind my back and gripped his hot smooth
tool and slowly began to pull the tight yet yielding
skin around his large shaft, up and down in time with
his breathing, making him moan softly. I felt one of
his hands snake around my waist and up to a nipple and
he gently pinched it, then rubbed it between thumb and
forefinger.
That's all it took, I quickly swung around and pushed
Jack onto his back then eagerly climbed on top of him.
My whole body was quivering with anticipation as I rose
up and pressed his magnificent erection against my
moist slit. I needed him so badly, it was almost
impossible to imagine anything else other than sex with
Jack, morning noon and night, nothing else mattered,
just Jack and our lovemaking sessions.
I almost screamed out as I slid down on to his pulsing
manhood. I think I could feel every little nodule and
vein along his shaft as it sank home in me. It was the
most exquisite feeling I'd ever experienced. I could
tell that this night was going to be a perfect.
Then the rhythm began. Jack fucked me as hard as I
fucked him. There was nothing else you could call what
we did to each other for the next half hour. Sweat was
poured down my neck and where our bodies met it felt
like we were in a sauna. I had never been wetter in my
life and he had never felt better inside me before.
Our passion just kept rising, yet neither of us
orgasmed. We smiled at each other, looking deeply into
each other's eyes as our rhythm picked up to an
impossible speed, it seemed like we were performing
some kind of erotic dance as I road him like a cowgirl
would a bucking house at a rodeo.
After what seemed like a pleasurable eternity, I gasped
and he began to make his little grunting noises, my
body tensed as my orgasm over took me, forming a tight
band of numbness around the top of my head, gripping my
brain, as my body took over and humped jerkily, over
and over again, in the most perfect multiple orgasm of
my life.
Finally I fell down onto Jack's heaving chest and as my
senses slowly returned I realized than he had cum too,
and that he was reveling in the sweet afterglow of our
lovemaking, just as I was. We hugged and that's the
last thing I remember until I woke to the ever present
early morning light, streaming through the bedroom
blinds.
** 6:02am
I opened my eyes to greet the day. I felt totally
sated, absolutely wonderful. I don't think I'd felt
that good in my life, well... maybe back when I was a
child waking up on a Saturday morning with the whole
weekend before me. It was that kind of carefree feeling
that I luxuriated in.
Then I remembered the camera and I sat up with a start.
I saw that the record light was still red, so that
meant that it had been working all night, turning on
for three minutes very ten. My heart began to pump my
blood through my veins at a furious rate.
Did I really want to know the truth? I'd had the best
night of lovemaking in my life last night. But then,
all kinds of thoughts invaded my mind. What if it was
some strange guy drugging me and using me every night?
What if it was someone I knew doing this to me? What if
I was going mad? I couldn't continue to live in this
dream world, not knowing. So I bucked up my courage and
climbed out of bed and put on my robe.
It was early still and I didn't have to wake Deidre for
another hour. Now was as good a time as any to see what
had actually happened last night. So I took the camera
down from the highboy and went into the kitchen and
made some morning tea. While the water was heating I
plugged the camera's transformer into the wall socket
and turned it on again.
Flipped open the side mount preview screen; I watched
the little screen as it flickered into life. The camera
had been well positioned because I could see the whole
bed, almost like it was a stage setting. 'A sex scene
setting,' I thought to myself.
I saw myself looking into the lens and then walking
away from the camera. Then I saw myself looking back at
the camera critically as I checked to see that it was
centered. Then I watched myself climb into bed and pull
the covers up around my chin.
Then nothing. Just me lying there.
Every once in a while the screen would go dark for a
second and then flash on again. That was the interval
setting turning it on and off during the night. From
time to time I would be in a different position when
the screen flashed back on. At first that startled me,
but then I remembered that the second break had really
been ten minutes.
The time on the screen moved forward to one o'clock and
still nothing. I started to fast forward, becoming
impatient. I was beginning to think that I really was
crazy and that this whole thing was only in my mind.
But then how... why... had the doctor told me I was
eight weeks pregnant? It just didn't make since to me,
none of it did.
Then around three o'clock a flash of movement! I
stopped the camera and then turned it on to normal run
time mode. I sat there wide-eyed as I saw myself sit up
in bed and then a shiver went down my spine as the
sheet moved as if someone invisible had pulled it away
from my body.
I looked into my face on the little screen and saw an
expression that I couldn't complete define. I looked
happy, but I also looked aroused, totally consumed
might be a better description.
Then I was looking at my naked back and I was on my
knees as if climbing onto someone, but no one was
there. Only then did I realize when this was taking
place, it was when I had pushed Jack down onto the bed
and climbed on top of him, I was watching my dream take
place on camera.
My body began to move faster and faster as I rode my
invisible lover. I was pushing down in front of me with
my hands as I humped the empty bed. I was shocked at
the sight of myself 'pretending' to have sex with
someone that wasn't there. But I could also hear the
moans I was making, moans of extreme pleasure, moans of
unbridled lust and pleasure.
It truly did look like some kind of erotic dance, my
body swayed and moved just as if I was riding a man's
body, it was almost uncanny, it looked real except that
I was the only one on the screen. I sat there
mesmerized and watched.
What was even stranger still, I was reliving those
moments, I was as wet, ready for sex now, as I had been
then, my blood was surging through my veins like it had
last night and I needed Jack more than I ever had in
life. That's when I jumped. "What!?"
A hand came around from behind and cupped a breast, a
firm warm body pushed up against mine. A gentle squeeze
through my robe and I was on fire, just like last
night. It was just after dawn now and light enough to
see who was with me, but I couldn't really see him. I
saw parts of him; everything seemed to swirl around me.
Then we were on the floor of the kitchen. I was naked
on top of my robe and Jack was opening my legs with his
knee, gently, slowly, lovingly. When he pushed his
maleness, his wonderful hot firm prick deep into me, I
gasped out loud and hugged him tight.
Then we were at each other as if starved for one
another's bodies, thrusting and groaning and feeling
each other doing things, wonderful things, as if we
were children in paradise. I sucked his lips, his ear
lobes and he rolled me back and forth as he rutted in
me like a wild animal. It went on and on like that
for... I don't know how long. Then his body shivered
and he blasted his hot seed deep in me, making his
little satisfied grunting sounds and I bit my lip to
keep from screaming as my body tensed against his and I
orgasmed myself into unconsciousness...
** 7:45am
It was embarrassing when Deidre found me naked, laying
on top of my bath robe in the middle of the kitchen.
But she was a child and I was able to explain it away
by saying that I must have fainted. If she had been
older I would have had a hard time explaining the
viscous fluid oozing from my swollen pussy lips.
** Epilog:
I had a beautiful son seven months later and he looked
just like Jack.
I guess there is really no reason to recount the
countless nights that Jack came to my bed over the
years that followed. Even when I remarried he still
came to me and the remaining two children I've had over
the past decade were the spitting image of Jack with a
dash of me in them. I never told anyone about my Jack
before, especially not my second husband.
I've learned one enduring fact over the years since
Jack's passing, and that is that sometimes a love is so
strong it never dies.