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Fallen Angel by Salustra
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
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other stories.
Fallen Angel
by Salustra ([email protected])
> I am a creature of the night, of dreams, of passion, of the
>twilight world between flesh and spirit. My mother is Lilith, Adam's
>first wife. The one he could not rule. The one who chose eternal
>loneliness rather than servitude. Like my mother, like my sisters, I
>roam the dreams of men, seeking those that smell of sex. When I find
>one, I enter the dream, tease the dreamer's sleeping body with my
>ethereal form, and give us both the delight and the frustration of a
>passion that is deeply felt but can not be consummated. That is the
>curse of the lilin, who are better known as succubi: we can never escape
>the sting of lust, and we can never be satisfied.
> The dreamtime is a fluid place. Its landscape shifts as
>dreamers' fancies swell and fade. Only the strongest imaginations
>penetrate the ether, only the most vivid dreams find their real -- if
>fleeting -- existence here. My pearlgray wings carry me effortlessly,
>untouched, through the dreams of mortals. . . .
> A wash of brilliant color caught my attention: a meadow bathed in
>sunlight, with long soft grass, a grazing horse, a tree spreading welcome
>shade. . . and two human figures in the midst. I sighed, disappointed,
>at so conventional a scene -- then felt the emotion surging beneath the
>idyllic images: a heady blend of love and lust, ferocity and tenderness,
>eagerness and despair.
> I flew closer, discovered a man and woman locked in passionate
>combat. The woman was small and fair, the man twice her size and
>darkened by the sun. He grabbed her wrists in one hand and pulled them
>up above her head, then forced them to the ground, bending her backward
>onto the grass. She struggled, her body twisting desperately, but her
>movements only enflamed the man. I floated closer, riding the wind-tide
>of his emotions, tasting his pleasure, his assurance of her surrender. I
>looked into her eyes and read her desire to be overwhelmed and her lust
>which shamelessly urged him on.
> He ripped her clothes open, revealing a pale, voluptuous body.
> I felt his sleeping passion begin to peak, and I dived out of his
>dream, into the room where his sweating body slept. He was thrashing
>alone in a bed made for two, his hands clenching and releasing as he
>struggled with his willing-defiant partner. I wished desperately to feel
>those grasping hands on my own eternally aching body.
> I drew the covers away, revealing his strong body. I hovered
>over him and touched his face with ghostly fingers, rubbed his body with
>my own. I looked into his dreams again and wove my presence into them.
>The remnants of the woman's clothes vanished, and feathered wings
>sprouted from her bare shoulders.
> I felt his hands on my dream body: powerful, ungentle, yet intent
>on inflicting pleasure rather than pain. I struggled with a mortal
>woman's puny strength, and he laughed and pulled me closer. My wings
>beat around his head, and his hand went around my back to grasp at their
>base, intent on immobilizing them.
> In all the centuries, no one else had ever dared to seize my
>wings, to try to hold me at my most delicate and vulnerable point.
>Although I could easily unweave his dream, I felt an irrational surge of
>fear, and cried out in the unnerving swirl of pleasure and dismay.
> He woke.
> They never wake. My touch has little more substance than the
>brush of a feather, and the men are always deep in dreams. But my voice
>sounded in both worlds, and the alien tones were enough to rouse him.
> He stirred and opened his eyes. . . and saw my ghostly face above
>his, my hands extended to touch his face, my naked breasts above his
>chest, my wings unfurled and beating gently.
> Startled, I began to pull back, but he was not fully conscious,
>and I was still entwined in his dream, where his dream-self held me
>captive. Before I could slip free of that, his material hands reached
>out -- and before I realized what he was doing, he had grasped the real
>roots of my real wings and was pulling me down toward him.
> Since Lilith left Adam, no mortal man had ever laid hands on my
>kind, but now this one had me at his mercy. Caught in both worlds, I
>struggled in vain against his strength.
> "Be still. . . " He made the words a seductive command,
>underscored by a tightening of his grip on my wings. Pleasure and pain
>flooded out from the spot, paralyzing me. One of his hands easily held
>both the roots. His other hand moved boldly over my body, exploring it
>and trying to elicit a passionate response. Whenever I tried to pull
>away the hand on my wings tightened, and I was compelled to stillness.
> As pleasure began to radiate from his other hand, I moved past
>fear to passion. Now we were both suspended in the twilight world,
>neither in a dream nor waking. Our bodies had the same
>ghostly-solidness, and I began to hope that perhaps I was about to
>experience a miracle.
> "Let go of my wings," I whispered. "I won't leave you."
> "I don't believe you. Why should you stay?"
> "So you can quench the fire you've started. . . "
> He shook his head. "I've heard the fair folk will say anything
>to escape a mortal."
> "No. . . It was for your passion that I came."
> "Then why were you trying to escape?"
> "I was frightened. No one had ever touched me before, outside of
>dreams. But now, all I want is to feel your body in mine."
> "Oh you'll feel that. . . but I won't let you go, not until I'm
>done with you. . . "
> I pressed closer to him, circling him with my arms, rubbing my
>breasts against his chest and twining my legs around his. I did not fear
>his touch, I feared he might leave me untouched.
> We floated, weightless, in the 'between', locked in each others'
>arms. His lips burned my flesh. I opened my legs and pushed against
>him, and he didn't hesitate to accept my invitation.
> For centuries I had craved this union without knowing what it was
>I craved. When he penetrated me, the thrill of pleasure was almost
>eclipsed by the sudden pain of my tearing virginity. But that pain
>passed as he began to move in me, just as the pain in my wings had
>stopped when I had stopped struggling against him.
> My wings. . . . "Let go of my wings," I whispered again. "I
>can't escape you now. Let me use them for our pleasure. . . "
> He stared at me, suspicious, startled, overcome by the experience
>as much as I was. I held his gaze, willing him to believe me. He moved
>in me again, and I closed my eyes in pleasure. He bent and began to kiss
>and tease my breasts, and when he heard my sighs, the hand around my
>roots slowly eased and pulled away.
> We were in a weightless place, and his thrusts sent us moving
>gently through the no-space. Slowly, so as not to startle him, I began
>to beat my wings, pushing myself toward him, using my feathers to caress
>his flesh.
> It made an immediate difference. I no longer drifted with his
>thrusts, but remained in place to meet them, and the sensations
>intensified dramatically. His hands tightened on me, then eased, as he
>realized I wasn't trying to escape.
> It was like but unlike his earlier dream: locked together, hands
>grasping with the roughness of urgency but not to do harm, a woman
>willingly helpless in the grip of his pleasure. But the satisfaction I
>had expected from his touch was slow in coming. Instead, I felt
>increased desire, a sharper urgency, a deeper hunger than I had ever felt
>before. Perhaps I was doomed to never find release, no matter what I
>did. . . .
> Then my body exploded in light and sensation, as the tension of
>the ages snapped and flowed away. My wings pounded, and my body
>shuddered and twisted against his. Dimly I heard his voice, but not in
>words, and felt his body spasm.
> Then there was nothing.
> I came back to myself to find that we were on his bed. I felt
>the cloth of his sheets, the springy softness of a pillow, the touch of
>air on my skin. Sensations I had never felt before. I started to
>scramble up, felt the pull of gravity, got no farther than my knees. I
>began to beat my wings, meaning to escape back into the ether.
> "Angel. . . ?" He was startled, but trying to soothe me. His
>hand touched my arm. That too felt like nothing I'd known before, but
>was strangely calming.
> I turned to him, eyes wide. He was quizzical, but smiling.
>"What's wrong, Angel?"
> "I. . . shouldn't be here."
> "Why not?"
> I looked down at my body, a body which had material substance.
>"I have been changed. . . "
> He looked more grave. "What do you mean?"
> "I am not flesh as you are. Or. . . I was not." Realization
>flooded through me. "I was not meant to know fulfillment. . . . not
>meant to escape the curse of my race. . . . But with you, I did escape.
>And now I can no longer be what I was."
> "Can you still fly?"
> "I don't know. . . "
> I was afraid to try. But I stood slowly, unsteady on legs that
>had never walked, had never held weight. He took my hand and lent his
>body as a support. I straightened, and began to move my wings, felt the
>air catch under them, raise me just a little. I took a breath -- I
>needed air now, as I had not before -- and jumped.
> And was free of Earth. I flew to the top of his room, but could
>go no further. I had no idea how to move myself back into the realm from
>which I'd come. I concentrated. I tried not to think. I bumped the
>ceiling. I could not go through. I remained aloft, but solid.
> Slowly I sank back down onto the bed -- and fortunately it was
>large and soft, for I had much to learn about making landings. I fell
>the last two feet, and the man fought to conceal his laughter as he
>helped me untangle myself.
> "What are you going to do?" he asked gently.
> "I don't know. . . I know nothing of the mortal world, only of
>your dreams."
> I didn't know whether I was frightened or excited. This body was
>gross and vulnerable, but it did not ache with unsatisfied passion. And
>I was talking with another being. I was not alone. I was not lonely.
> "Is this. . . my fault?" he asked.
> "It could not have happened if you had not managed to bridge the
>worlds as you did. . . but neither of us knew what the consequences would
>be, so I don't think you have any share of blame."
> "All the same, I feel responsible for you. Will you let me help you?"
> "I have no one else."
> The expression on his face, as I said that. . . I saw wonder,
>dismay, fear, joy. . . Then he nodded firmly. "I will take care of you,
>Angel." He reached up and touched my cheek, then moved his hand to my
>hair, then to my wing, lightly caressing me. "I'll take care of you."
> His touch set off a flurry of tingles in my body, and I felt a
>stab of grief. "Ohhh. . . "
> "What is it?"
> Water rose in my eyes. 'Tears', I realized. "The hunger is
>coming back. I thought it was over, that I wouldn't have to suffer that
>again." I looked at him in anguish.
> "Desire?" he asked.
> I nodded, unwilling to speak again, lest I sob.
> "Dearest, that will always come back. At least I hope it will. .
>. "
> He was smiling, damn him! I backed away, shaking my head.
>"You! How could you?"
> "No, wait! Angel. . . " He sighed. "Don't you realize that as
>often as you feel that way, I can help you, just as I did before?" He
>hesitated, then said slowly, "And there are other men who could do so
>also, if you tire of me."
> "You can? You would. . . ?"
> "In an instant. Anytime you need me." He reached to touch me
>again, then slowly drew our bodies together. I looked up into his dark
>eyes, seeing his desire for me, and the wonder still there as he studied
>my face. "I only hope you'll need me as often and as intensely as I
>think I'm going to need you."
> Then he kissed me, and I felt my newly-solid body begin to melt.
>But it was only an illusion, a trick of passion. As he entered me again
>I wondered if the second time would reverse the effects of the first, but
>when we were done, I was still lying next to him on the bed, and my body
>was streaked with sweat and smelled of human mating. "It looks like I'm
>not going back," I said quietly.
> The man's arms tightened around me. "I don't want you to go,
>Angel. I want you to stay here with me, and be my lover. Be my
>friend." His dark eyes were tender and worried.
> I touched his face. "I'll stay."
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To find out more about the anon service, send mail to [email protected].
Due to the double-blind, any mail replies to this message will be anonymized,
and an anonymous id will be allocated automatically. You have been warned.
Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to [email protected].
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