Malone’s POV
I'll never forget that night. What started out as a typical night out at the clubs turned into a life-changing event. And it all started with her, the woman. So lustfully mysterious. I remember when I first saw her. It was a club I had only frequented a handful of times, El Villagio and I had waited for my drink at the bar. I turned around just as the music switched to something slow and saw her hourglass figure that swayed in the shadows.
Even in the dark I could see her exquisite figure, curvy and voluptuous. Her breasts swayed with the rhythm of the music, and I could tell they were easily C cups. Her hair was long, curly, and a deep blood red. It also matched her lipstick, which complimented her puffy lips. Even though her lips and hair were vivid red, the rest of her skin was pale. She wore a red dress, which clearly matched the rest of her and it flowed down to her calves. She also had on a black silky scarf that intertwined
Malone’s POVMost rooms were closed with the same blood red curtains, some were shut off completely with doors, and others remained open. Some couples liked to be watched, and it was clear that they got off from it because my eyes would wander into the open rooms and see people engaged in acts I could only dream of.One in particular had a man engaged with two other females. He was spread onto the bed, his hands and feet tied with rope to each of the bedposts. Both women were licking and kissing his body and he was blindfolded. One woman had olive colored skin and short black hair with sparkling sapphire eyes while the other had straight long black hair with brown eyes. The woman with longer black hair seemed to have an exotic skin tone and had perky size B cup breasts. She was of Asian descent while the other looked Italian. The Italian woman had D cup breasts and a round ass that stuck out as she laid on top of the man kissing him.The man was moaning in
Robert Bentley turned on the taps and looked at the small clear plastic packet.Oh well, he may as well give it a go, he thought. He emptied the contents into the bath.*****Bentley hadn't really gone into the New Age shop with the intention of buying anything. He just wanted to get a closer look at the hot shopkeeper he'd seen through the window. All he'd seen was a glimpse of pale skin and cascading black curls, but it had caused his heart to jump. Curious, and with a little bit of time to kill, he'd walked in to get a closer look.The small premises were on the corner on the way to the bus station. It used to be an adult book store with dirty, boarded up windows. The new owners had replaced the wooden boards with clean glass windows. The interior was still cramped, but the windows helped give it the illusion of air and space.As Bentley walked through the door a small bell tinkled above his head. He shuddered at the sound; it brought back memor
Clarice frantically ran through the night. It was pitch black. The only light was coming from the fire that burned her house. The flames rose higher and higher. Her lover was caught inside. She ached all over; her arms and legs were burned badly. Blisters had formed on her feet and yet, she still kept running. She had to get help.It was the night of Samhain. This was the one night when the boundaries between the world of the living and the dead became blurred. This night spirits roamed the earth and magic was strong. Clarice headed toward a little hut in the woods. The druid priest lived there. He would be able to help.Ultan woke to hear loud knocking on his door. He opened the door to find a young woman in tattered clothes, her lovely face covered in ashes and her eyes full of dread. "Help me," she whispered then passed out.When she came to it was daylight. Her limbs had been bandaged and her burns were healing. She immediately
Camilla looked at the man and said,” Is this some kind of joke?” Percival sighed and said,” If it was then I would not have endeavoured to bring you back here in order to protect you or to keep you safe and secure. You know that I have not hurt you in any way and you are free to leave any time you want. But I took the risk of putting my own neck out there in front of the pack of wolves with whom I was supposed to sign a peace treaty just to protect you.” “And I am grateful for that. But why are you lying to me? There is no reason for you to tell me lies are there?” Camilla asked. “No. I am not lying. You might not know who I am and that itself proves that you know nothing about our worlds. And I have only told you the story in order to know if you are aware about the kind of person you are or where from you belong,” said Percival and Camilla sighed. “I know that I am a girl who had gone to the friend’s house who was known as Robert to her father, and
Every night for the past week, the same thing. Not that he was complaining; hell no was he complaining! For his entire adult life, Ross’s dreams had been pretty normal. He had a few nightmares and wet dreams, but not many. Only rarely was a dream worth remembering when he woke up, but this one eluded his memory in spite of how hard he attempted to recall it the next morning. He awoke feeling only that something indescribable had happened. Each night brought the dream closer to conclusion. He did not know it, but tonight would bring the culmination of the previous five evenings.In this dream, Ross found himself drawn to the same dream-place over and over. It didn’t feel the same as a standard recurring dream, but the room he found himself at never changed, nor the Lady who danced for him. Where his dreaming brain came up with this location, or the woman, he couldn’t fathom given that he was a fairly unimaginative person. Until his first dream of her, the qui
Camilla was moaning against his mouth and Percival could feel in the pit of his stomach that Ross was dead. And he had lost him to a succubus. The height of stupidity of this human amazed him. How could anyone be so naïve?He was still in her arms when Camilla whispered,” You are like ice to my fire. It will be so good to feel you inside me.”The man leaned in to me, down to my neck. He inhaled deeply, taking in my scent. As he exhaled, he let out a soft moan as if he'd smelled the most wonderful scent in his life. His hands came up to my breasts, his thumbs rubbing against my nipples through the fabric of my tank top. I could feel them become hard as he took them between his thumb and finger and squeezed and pulled on them gently, making me gasp.He lifted my shirt just above my breasts and seemed pleased that I wasn't wearing a bra. He bent down and took one mound into his mouth, teasing and flicking my nub with his tongue. My hands went to hi
He is a demon, and his name is unpronounceable. There is no exact translation; the closest meaning is "the hottest fire," but it misses the mark. He is not an awful demon, as demons go. His area of expertise is lust, but he is flawed; occasionally he allows just a hint of the softer emotion of love.He rationalizes this by increasing the lust, and by the knowledge that the liaisons thus formed do not last very long. Most of them end in tears, and this keeps his supervisor looking the other way. Unhappy people make mistakes, many committing the more deadly sins. Ginger, as he has been nicknamed, is thus a very useful demon, with good results, and is working his way down the infernal ladder steadily.Ginger is so competent, as a matter of fact, so experienced and good at his job, that it was a thirty-day wonder all over Hell when he apparently fell victim to his own sin.The lady in question owned a bookshop. Ginger was there on business; he was attempting to pair
My dearest friend,These are the last words that I will ever put to paper, the last words that my mind will craft. I have passed on all my teachings to those few disciples that were brazen enough to ask for my instruction. Each of them, in their own accord, has reached beyond the level of wisdom that I have attained during my days. They already are far more powerful than I could ever hope to have become in my short days on this earth. They each have sworn their oaths in fragrant blood to pass on my teachings to their own disciples, but more importantly to maintain the secrecy of their identities. I am sure that this last statement will surprise you, more because of the significance of it rather than the action itself.I know it has been many years since that day, but each detail is easy to recapture by merely closing my eyes. Each detail has been carved into my eyes, masterfully placed there by artistic hands into a canvass that cannot be destroye