~ P R E S E N T S ~

Tumescent Tales

I N C U B U S
By Cryptorkyd

The following tale is strongly based upon actual events and occurrences:

It was exactly 3:19 that June 21st when that train pulled out of the station. My thoughts sank as that old void opened up deep within the recesses of my being. I had nearly two days to be without My love, My life, My soulmate, My dearest Husband.

"Stop crying!" I ordered Myself. "He's only going to meet with his publisher in San Jose. He'll be coming back late tomorrow, and he promised to call not only when he got there, but whenever he could. So stop it!"

Upon returning to our quaint victorian home, I noticed the full moon beginning to rise just above and behind me. I resigned myself to our bedroom with a bottle of wine and a recording of Puccini's Tosca. Knowing I wouldn't be able to ignore the immense separation anxiety gnawing at My innards, I decided to drown it and wallow in it. I lay My head upon the red satin covered pillow, closed My eyes and let My thoughts drift.

The darkness on the other side of My eyelids began to open up, and from out of that darkness I was abandoned in a beautiful Louis-Phillippe bedroom. The french doors which led to the exquisite balcony looked as though they had been blown open, and behind them the sky was the deepest shade of midnight blue. That same full moon which saw me to my door was now peering into the strange bedroom as a cold night breeze kissed My bare feet.

I looked down and noticed my usual casual pajamas had been resurrected into a flowing nightgown of silken virgin white lace. There were candles lighting the rare spots the moon did not, and the soft smell of burning incense let My senses know this experience was much more than a wonderful dream.

That's when I heard Him. "My Goddess! My Love! My Everything! Come, join me here!"

My head snapped toward the direction of that musical, loving voice. It was My Husband.

I ran over to him post haste, narrowly missing one of the many bouquets of blood red roses which seemed to emphasize the room. I sat on the side of the arcane canopy bed with the curtain drawn next to My Husband and flung my arms around His neck. He returned the embrace with arms that seemed even more muscular than usual. Then, ever so gently, He lay me down on My back and began to kiss Me in that way only He can. I instinctually ran my fingers through His long, soft, raven hair. Eventually, those fingers found their way to the tie on His poet shirt, which was quite undone with ease, exposing His strong, bestial chest.

His lips parted from mine and eased themselves down to my neck as my Husband undid the lacing on My bodice, from which My breasts began to peek out of. As he softly nibbled on my nipples, I clutched his thick hair in My hands.

"Take Me, My Dark Love," I whispered to Him.

"Not quite yet." He replied.

How dare he torture me in this way!

His body, still atop of mine, began to move upwards, back toward my neck. He slipped one hand under my head, and the other between my shoulder blades. His lips drew dangerously close to my ear.

"I love you, My eternal life," He whispered.

And with that, his teeth pierced into my jugular. A river of warmth washed over me; a wave of ecstasy welled up inside of me. As I felt the very essence of life drain out of Me, I couldn't remember feeling so orgasmic, so loved in My life. It was truly the ideal way to die.