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NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 13 Feb 2010 04:23:05 -0600
From: Angelique Rich <angelique.rich@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Demon Lust - 05 The morning after
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Date: Sat, 13 Feb 2010 20:10:02 -0500
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Demon Lust 

The morning after

"Jesus, she looks as if she has seen the devil himself before she
died." 

The other man could hear the distorted sound from a headphone,
dangling on a white cable over the young man's chest, who didn't
bother to turn the iPod off while he examined the dead body on the
bed. Pater Gregorius didn't recognize the music, it was probably rap
or what ever the young people were listening to today. The tinny
sounds added to the surreal feeling of the situation. "One always
thinks, old people die in peace but she..." The young man's voice
trailed off as he looked at Mrs. Livingston dead face. Her eyes,
although staring into a void now, still seemed to reflect  the horror,
she saw in her last moments or, even worse, had killed her. Her
toothless mouth was a dark hole, frozen in an endless expression of
unmentionable fright and he somehow expected to hear a piercing scream
of fear and agony any moment.

Pater Gregorius remained silent. He had known Mrs. Livingston for the
last 35 years now, since he moved into this small town and started to
serve the community as a young priest, fresh from the seminary of St.
Mary's College in Oscott. She had been his housemaid until she grew
too old and retired about ten years ago. Never been married, she
always seemed to look at him a little bit as if he would be the son
she never had, and although this was a bit embarrassing for him at
times, he always enjoyed her company and friendly talk when she was
over to look after the small place the priest lived in. 
No, he didn't wanted to see her like this.

He looked at the coroner. "And the police says she died of natural
cause?" he asked, somehow hoping for a negative answer, so he could
stop to worry about the reason that made her face freeze like this. He
did look at her again. It wasn't only the expression on her face that
made his hair rise on the back of his neck, nor the way her right hand
was still clutching her white cotton nightgown right over her heart. 

It was the pose. Her left hand was still grasping the sheets, the arm
in an awkward angle, trying to push her up. She was laying on her back
and her right foot was pulled back and up, as if she would still try
to crawl backwards, desperately trying to get away from... something.
The priest looked at her knee, that was pointing at the ceiling. He
had seen many people laying dead in their beds. It was something that
came with his job and he had learned to accept it. But never, never he
had seen something like this. It was, as if her body was too horrified
to let the muscles relax as it should, as life left her.

"The landlady told the police, she was watching the midnight show when
she heard the screams. She immediately ran to her room to see what
happened and found her that way. She gave to protocol, everything was
exactly as it is now." The coroners voice interrupted Pater Gregorius
thoughts. 

"Have you ever seen something like... this?" he asked, still looking
at the stiff body on the bed. The coroner shook his head. 

"No, never." He hesitated and then added "I know this is impossible
but it looks as if rigor mortis happened immediately after she died.
Or somebody posed her like this and made sure she stays like this
until the rigor set in. But as I said, the landlady entered the room
only moments after she heard the screaming and no one was here." 

The coroner moved towards the bed and Pater Gregorius turned, not
wanting to watch  the young man  unceremoniously open the old lady's
hands and push the knee down,  so she could be put into the black,
rubber body bag. 

He left the house and went back to the church. The Sunday morning mass
would start in two hours and then he would have to start organizing
the funeral. To his knowledge, the old lady did not have any relatives
who would take care of that matter. It was not only his duty, being
the towns priest, he also knew he wanted to do this for her, as a sign
of gratitude for all the years she looked after him and his place. 

He felt tense, as he walked home. He didn't know if the coroner had
felt it as well, back there in the little bedroom. No, he couldn't
imagine the young man, who still had one earphone of his iPod plugged
into his left ear, feel a presence. A presence as if they would  not
be alone with the dead woman. 

"You don't start to believe in ghosts now, do you?" he asked himself
as he walked faster,  fighting for a moment the urge to run. His
fingers touched the crucifix in his pocket and he tried to forget the
primeval feeling of danger he had felt, lurking in the shadow of the
small room back there.

-o-

Amber woke up and stretched, feeling relaxed. He whole body seemed to
be bathed in a warm, relaxed glow. The warm, sensual feeling of waking
up after having spent a night, where a lover caused her body to
experience orgasm after orgasm, was new to the young girl, but it was
a very pleasant feeling. She stretched again, smiled and slowly opened
her eyes. "What a weird dream." she thought. "But it sure felt real!"
She smiled again and giggled. "And it sure felt great!" Memories of
the erotic ecstasy she felt while Lillith's cock pounded her sex,
flashed through her mind. How sensations of wave after wave of
orgasmic bliss shaking her body, until she finally passed out, still
felt real and she moaned softly.

"A woman with horns and a tail. Sheesh, can my dreams get any
weirder?" Unlike other dreams, the memories didn't fade the more she
was awake, quite the contrary, they still felt very real - and she
still felt warm and satisfied. She looked at the alarm clock on her
night table. 

9:30 AM. Church would start at eleven. Being raised by a deeply
Christian family, it never occurred to her to miss the mass. She
stretched again, not wanting to leave the comfort of her bed and the
beautiful satisfied warmth and then slowly got up. She turned to make
her bed and froze.

Blood.

There was a small stain of dried blood in the middle of her bed.

She stared at the brown stain, trying to understand what she saw. For
a moment she wondered, if it was menstrual blood, but then remembered
that her period just ended last week. Her hand moved between her legs
as her fingers hesitantly felt for her sex as it slowly began to dawn
on her. 

It had not been a dream.

Shocked,  she slowly sat down on the chair next to her bed. If it
hadn't been a dream, it could only mean one thing. Her eyes still
staring at the stain, she slipped, almost absently, a finger into her
sex, feeling for her hymen. She froze as the finger simply slipped
into her without meeting any resistance. 

"It's not a dream", she whispered, her face pale as she tried to
understand what had happened this night. It couldn't be that she lost
her virginity. For a brief moment the mental picture of her
conservative father, finding out she was no longer a virgin, flicked
through her mind and she felt her stomach tighten as she imagined his
rage. It just couldn't be.

She tried to remember again and again what happened, but the result
was always the same. Pictures of how she squirmed on the bed shot
through her mind. Pictures of a cock entering her, making her arch her
back and causing her to moan in lust, as she welcomed the intruder.
Memories of how she begged to be taken, how she begged the unknown
shadow to fuck her. She stared at her bed and saw how her body
convulsed in lust and pure sexual bliss as she was fucked. She saw how
she pulled her knees up and opened wide to feel the wonderful, hard
pulsing cock deeper, wishing it to penetrate her core. She remembered
the wanton lust, the urge to mate. She smelled the scent of her
arousal and heard the wet, smacking sounds and felt the hard bumpy
texture of the horns in her hands, as she pulled her lovers head down
to look into its face and lost herself in the glowing eyes that were
reflecting the fires of hell. 

The eyes...

The finger in her sex, feeling for her lost maidenhood ,had long been
joined by another one, moving in an out at the same rampant speed the
demonic lover had fucked her. She leaned back on the wooden chair, her
legs sprawled wide open. She moaned, as she felt the wetness of her
walls grab the fingers, hugging them tightly, as she remembered how
the cock swelled in her, being pushed in her so much deeper than her
fingers could reach and then pulsed, pumping and shooting hot cum in
her womb, filling her, until she felt it flow from her cunt. She added
a third finger, trying to get these wonderful feelings back. She was
breathing fast, her hips humping the fingers and her other hand joined
the mating in her lap, a finger rubbing her clit. 

The warm morning light bath the erotic scene in a soft, glowing light.
Soft moans drifted through the room as her passion grew rapidly higher
and higher until the soft, erotic blush on her face and breasts
competed with the sunlight shining on her.

Her body tensed and her feet kicked over the floor as the memories and
sensations caused her to cry out briefly as the sharp waves of her
climax shook her. Her eyes opened and then she smiled, savouring the
sweet sensation of warmth pulsing from her sex. The shock of having
lost her virginity had been replaced by the pleasant, sweetly sinful
memories of the lust she felt when she climaxed on the cock and the
realization that she,  after a week of unsuccessfully trying, just
made herself cum. 

An our later, a smiling Amber left the house and guided her bicycle
down the road and into the small city of Halesowen on her way to
church. The wind played with her short skirt and white blouse she was
wearing and she felt cheerful and alive. Yes, things had changed that
night and she liked how it felt. And although she no longer cared
about the lost maidenhood, she had not forgotten to put her bedding
into the laundry machine. 

She didn't wanted to have her father find our her cherry had been
popped. Not yet.

-o-

The bank felt hard. No matter how much she tried, it felt hard. It was
uncomfortable and she felt bored. She looked around and observed the
people around her. "Hypocritical liars", she thought. "Going to
church, singing gospels and trying to make everybody believe how good
you are." For some unknown reason, she almost felt it physical when
she looked at them. 
The woman with the one year old boy was distracted, fearing the baby
might wake up and cry. Amber almost giggled as she realized how much
she would have enjoyed this. 
The old couple in front of her listened intensely the priest's words
and Amber looked away, feeling strangely disgusted by the
religiousness they showed. 
She continued to watch the crowd and noticed Mrs. Hepplewhite whisper
with her neighbour. Amber felt a hint of fear and superstition that
caught her attention like a beacon and concentrated on them. The other
woman turn her head to stare at Mrs. Hepplewhite with big eyes as the
landlady continued to whisper to her neighbour, her voice getting
louder.

"I swear, as if she's seen the devil himself!" Amber heard Mrs.
Hepplewhite whisper, obviously much louder than intended. She wasn't
the only one hearing it, a couple of people looked at them and there
was some "Shhh!"'s going on as the the landlady dared to interrupt the
priest's speech. 

Amber looked at Pater Gregorius and saw him stare at the landlady as
well. But it wasn't anger that Amber was reading on his face, it was
something she never seen before on an adults face. She felt the same
sensation of uneasiness and fear she felt when she watched Mr.
Hepplewhite whisper with her neighbour. The priest cleared his throat
and resumed his speech and his voice seemed all of a sudden a bit
shaky. For a moment, Amber wondered if he knew what the landlady was
talking about, but then quickly drifted back into boredom.

It was strange, usually she enjoyed going to church, she liked the
songs and the community. It always made her feel at ease, being here
with her parents and knowing that there was a small community of
people who would look after each other if needed. She also quite liked
the sermons of Pater Gregorius, who always managed to web the passages
from the bible into small stories that somehow seemed to be connected
with what was going on in the little world of Halesowen. 

She tried to concentrate on what he was talking about..

"... and so Jesus chased the dealers from the stairs of the temple.
And believe me, my brother and sisters, there will be a day, when the
dealers and traders, the bankers and those, who believe in the
religion of money will ...."

Amber lost track again and resumed looking around the church. The tall
stone building looked cold to her today, cold and like a strange and
somewhat forbidding place and she suddenly felt uneasy and longed for
the mass to end so she could hurry home and meet with mom and dad who
would soon come back from their visit to grandma. 

Dad... Amber smiled and enjoyed the warm feeling the thought gave her.
And it didn't bother her at all, that the source of the warm feeling
wasn't in a place that Pater Gregorius would have approved. 

Pater Gregorius watched the worshippers as he continued his sermon of
how Jesus chased the dealers from the temple and how this translated
in current events. But he also saw that hardly anybody was paying
attention, as more and more heads started to turn to each other and
more and more hushed words were exchanged, as the news and rumours of
Mrs. Livingston's sudden passing were spread. And those who were not
exchanging rumours seemed to be bored, like the young girl, who was
fidgeting on her seat, obviously wanting the mass to end. 

He couldn't blame them, as his mind was still struggling with the
scene in the small  bedroom as well. For him, as for Amber, the church
did not provide the usual promise of peace. Quite the contrary, as the
church started to fill with people, the undefinable feeling of danger
he felt in the small room earlier this day came back. And the loud
whisper about the devil caused him to interrupt his speech and he had
to clear his throat before he could continue. 

For the past few hours, he had tried to repress that thought, but
hearing Mrs. Hepplewhite loud whisper forged the words into his
awareness.

As if she's seen the devil himself...

"Amen" 

Amber heard the crowd repeat the last word of the mass and realized it
had come to an end. The young girl dashed out of the church, not
caring about the condemnatory looks such behaviour earned her. With a
gleeful laughter she jumped on her bike and drove home, crying out in
joy as she saw dad's car in front of the house.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As always, feel free to tell me if you liked it. 
If you didn't please tell me as well :)

And - if the story gave you an erotic tickle - thank you :)

Those who liked it can find my other stories here:
http://cynfulangel.blogspot.com/

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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