("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ 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!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2013. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- 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