Fantasizing is one thing; being is quite another!
You scream and flop as quickly from the bed as possible. The incubus moves quickly, much faster than a human could dream. He reaches for your ankle, missing by inches.
Desperate, you hurl the vibrator at him. He deftly catches it, salivating as he takes in your sexual scent. You catch a glimpse of that luscious serpentine tongue as he tastes your fluids from the appliance. As arousing as it is, you don't stick around.
You cross to the door of your small apartment, snatching a trenchcoat from the wooden rack by the door. Luckily, your keys are inside the pocket. You yank the door open.
Greeting you in the hallway is Lynn, your twenty-something neighbor across the hall. Even though you consider yourself straight, right now you can't deny a twinge of lust for her; she's blond, evenly tanned, and overall athletic. Right now, she's also buck naked. One hand slowly teases a stiff, engorged nipple, as the other shamelessly penetrates her moist, bare slit. She salivates like an animal in heat as her thick tongue licks her lips. Her green eyes are red and puffy, as though she's been crying.
"Lynn! What're you doing!" You can hear stirring from your bedroom. Your new friend must have paid her a visit.
"Please...please," Her voice is hoarse and breathless. She shudders as she fingers herself, closing her eyes in bliss.
You catch the scent of stale cum wafting through the hallway. Sounds of moaning from the hall make your heart skip a beat. It seems to be coming from...everywhere! Has everyone on your floor been infected? The whole building, even?
The feeling of wetness on your breast snaps you back, and you look down to find Lynn crouching before you, licking at your left nipple. As she deftly flicks her tongue across the bud, it stretches and separates along the last of its length.
"Please fuck me!" Her eyes have already become a slitted crimson, characteristic of the demoness she's becoming. She crushes your sweating right tit with nails that have already lengthened into sharp claws, and you wince at the pinpricks of pain.
"You'll learn to love it," she smiles, bearing two pairs of slight fangs that lengthen before your eyes. "I am."
The transforming girl traces a slow, shuddering trail toward your own quivering mound, even as the incubus closes in behind you, laughing as he strokes himself.
|