Chapter 7: Consorting With Demons

When Ryan stepped through the door of his apartment, Nahash was waiting there for him, lounging on the couch as she watched him hang up his coat. She was treating it like a chaise longue due to her size, reclining on it as she leaned with one arm on the backrest and the other trailing over the side. Her long legs were crossed, hanging over the adjacent armrest, her cloven hooves touching the floor.

She had always been distractingly attractive, but for the first time, he felt free to really appreciate her. He no longer feared that she would take offense if she caught him copping an eyeful. Her figure screamed fertility – avatar of nature that she was – with child-bearing hips and breasts so bountiful that he would scarcely be able to cup one in two hands. There was a pleasant fullness to her, the soft flesh that clung to her thighs and belly giving her curves that drew the eye with an almost magnetic power. She embodied a standard of beauty that was lost to time, but one that nonetheless ignited an ancient and primal lust in him, like a hunter-gatherer obsessively carving fetishes from ivory.

Where her skin was clear of her delicate wool, it was as smooth as polished stone, shining almost like silk beneath the lights. It was pale, though not pallid – warmth and health radiating forth to make her glow.

His eyes followed the thin trail of fur that began between her breasts, his gaze wandering up to her neck and shoulders, where it created a sort of fluffy ruff that framed her face. It continued to her head, where it served as her hair, those black horns and her large ears that so resembled those of a sheep protruding from it. The same downy material covered her lower legs, giving the impression that she was wearing woolen knee socks, before her long limbs tapered into those of a goat. Her coat was as white as snow, near the same color as her skin, the whole package blending seamlessly to make the transition between her human and animal features less jarring. Her face was closer to that of a human than a sheep or a goat, with a flat, ovine nose and the full lips of a woman. Now, he could admire her without reservation.

She was at once comely and surprisingly graceful. Being a kind of succubus, her original purpose had been to tempt tribesmen away from their wives to join the Seirim in their dance. Based on what Ryan had read about them during his research into Azazel, it was he who had first taught mankind to sin. And here was Nahash, one of his sensuous children, tempting Ryan as was her prerogative. She was exotic, strange and somewhat frightening, but there was an aura of base sexuality emanating from her that ignited a long-dormant fire in him.

Nahash beckoned to him with a clawed finger, and he walked over to her obediently, her golden eyes watching him from beneath her long lashes.

“On the couch or in the bed?” Nahash asked in a low and sultry tone. Ryan felt himself begin to blush. He had only just expressed his feelings for her. Was she already intending to take things further?

“W-what do you mean?” he stammered.

“Where do you wish to sleep?” she clarified in her usual formal tone. “On the couch or in the bed?”

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief and gestured to the bedroom, the demon rising from the couch to follow him. Nahash watched as he started to disrobe, her gaze more covetous than usual, as if she was playing her eyes over his body rather than passively observing him as she normally did. He stripped down to his shirt and shorts, slipping beneath the heavy sheets in order to escape the bite of the cold air, and she followed suit.

If there had been a sexual charge under normal circumstances, it was now amplified tenfold, the very touch of her soft wool against his naked skin sending jolts of tingling electricity coursing through him. His attraction to her had been implied, unspoken but likely sensed, and it was all out in the open now. His face burned fever hot, and his heart raced as he felt her arm curl around him, tugging him closer. His breath caught in his throat as her bosom pressed up against his back through the fabric of his shirt, flesh as soft as putty enveloping him, spilling over his shoulders like a plush neck pillow.

She spooned with him, her warm breath blowing his hair, squeezing him tight against her voluptuous body. The ruff of fluffy fur around her neck cushioned his head, tickling the back of his neck as he leaned into her embrace. Nahash could sense his every emotion, as if he was laid bare before her, the demon staring into his soul with those amber eyes.

“What are you so afraid of?” Nahash whispered, her lips brushing his ear. He closed his eyes, feeling the feathery texture of her wool against his midriff as she let her hand rest dangerously close to his waistband. “Do you think me a temptress?”

“Are you not?” Ryan mumbled, and she chuckled.

“You’ve learned enough about my kind by now to know what we are, and you know that I’ve not felt the warmth of a man in millennia.” She slipped her clawed fingers beneath his shirt, dragging them lightly across his chest, making him flinch as he felt her soft lips press against the nape of his neck. He froze up, his spine arching involuntarily as she planted a sucking kiss. It was tender, gentle, yet oozing with a palpable desire.

“How I have yearned for the pleasures of the flesh,” she murmured into his ear, her musical voice making his breath catch in his throat. “To live in a mire of raw thought, to have no corporeal form, to have the memories of taste and touch without ever being able to relive them is torture worthy of the name Hell. The taste of succulent fruit, the smell of roasted meat wafting on the air, the pulse of another’s heartbeat felt through their warm skin...”

She placed her palm over his heart, feeling it throb, and he heard her exhale deeply as she savored the sensation.

“As you have already learned, it was Azazel who taught men to sin. He brought them secret knowledge, and with it came the possibility of transgression. Like Eve in the Garden of Eden, they ate of the forbidden fruit, finding it sumptuous and dripping with sweet nectar.”

Her long tongue left her mouth to glance his ear, making him flinch, leaving a trail of warm saliva in its wake. Ryan was captivated by her lurid whisperings, scarcely able to breathe, like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You are an innocent boy, Ryan,” she cooed. “Your love is pure and unashamed. I can sense it in you – I can smell it just as the wolf smells the hare.” She caught his ear between her teeth and nibbled it softly, a gasp escaping his lips. “Would you think me evil if I told you that it excites me almost beyond reason?” she asked with a breathy sigh. “I am a demon, after all – a spirit whose driving purpose was to tempt men and women alike, to help them learn the pleasures and the mysteries of nature. Lust is not godly. The rutting of unthinking beasts is not sung of in churches and temples, and yet it is the pulse of all life. The darkness of the forest that calls to you, the unacceptable desire that scratches at the inside of your skull, the animal that lurks beneath your conscious mind. We taught them to embrace it – to explore it – if only to finally know what it would feel like to sate that burning need.”

Ryan felt her hot breath on his nape, contrasting with the chill of the air above the bedsheets, Nahash hovering there as if she wanted to plant a kiss or a bite on his sensitive skin.

“You listen so intently when I speak of demons and magick,” she chuckled. “An eager student. Now, let me teach you to sin.”

He loosed a stifled moan as she sank her teeth into his neck, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to send his nerves into overdrive. It was like he had been hooked up to a battery, setting his nervous system alight with sensation. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of everything, as though his senses had been dialed up to eleven. He felt her claws drag slowly from his chest to his belly, making him buck and flinch, her pillowy lips mouthing and kissing around the red mark that her teeth had left in his skin. She reached his waistband and dragged it down, savoring his every twitch, his erection catching for a moment before bouncing free of its confines.

She wrapped her fingers around it, holding it in her palm, feeling it throb in her hand like a second heart. It was as hot as an iron in a forge and no less rigid.

“Sweet boy,” she purred as she hooked his chin in her other hand, turning it up so that she could look down on his burning face from above. “I’ll show you pleasures that no mortal has tasted in a hundred generations.”

She locked him in an upside-down kiss, her dexterous tongue worming its way into his mouth, twisting and coiling as though it had a life all its own. Her grip on him grew tighter, pressing him against her body, sinking him deeper into her heaving bust. She squeezed his aching member in her hand, feeling him shudder, a bead of his pre welling at the tip as she overwhelmed him with her relentless affections.

Ryan could do little other than lean back into her embrace, her fingers curling gently around his throat to hold him in place as her lurid kiss dragged on. He could feel those abundant breasts squashing against his back through his shirt, her satin skin separated from his by a scant layer of fabric. They were large enough to spill over his shoulders, as though her butter-soft flesh was engulfing him, yet they were firm enough to spring back when he pushed against them. With the mattress beneath him and the quilted blankets pressing him down, his whole world was warmth and comfort, every inch of skin pressing against something plush and inviting.

Ryan found himself trembling with anticipation as she ran her dull claws up and down the length of his throbbing shaft, tracing a bulging vein. She had him in such a state of excitement that just the feather-light touch of her fingers made him dance like a puppet on the end of a string. The smirking Seirim was playing him like a musical instrument, his nerves no different than the strings of a harp in her deft hands, each pluck sending a fresh wave of pleasure rolling over him.

The satin coils of her slippery tongue piled into his mouth, so long and thick that he could barely accommodate it, his cheeks bulging as she tasted their inner lining. She exhibited all the skill and finesse of an artist wielding a paintbrush, her practiced motions delicate enough that he felt she could have written her name on his palate. Their organs entwined like mating snakes as Ryan did his best to reciprocate, hot flesh slick with their shared saliva twisting and curling, her metallic flavor filling his head. He felt as though she was draining all of the strength from his body, sapping his will. This kiss alone was more intense than anything that he had experienced with his previous partners, somehow even more carnal than making love. It was otherworldly, her own repressed lust seeping into every lick, a tremor rolling through him as his muddled mind considered what she might have in store for him.

She glanced the back of his throat, painting the roof of his mouth, exploring him as her embrace grew ever more wanton. Her agile fingers roamed across his belly and thighs all the while, drawing red trails in his skin, touching everything but his neglected member as it ached and throbbed in the air. Something about her grip on his throat made him feel vulnerable, and that vulnerability only heightened his senses further, his brain fizzing as if someone had filled his head with pop rocks.

Nahash sensed that it was becoming too intense for him, ceasing her stroking, her lips breaking away with a pop as her monstrous tongue slid out of his mouth like a giant strand of spaghetti. Ryan lay in her arms, panting and twitching, the Seirim releasing her hold on his neck to run her fingers through his hair in the way that she knew he liked.

“I’m sorry, I got a little carried away,” she whispered. “It’s been so long, and you’re so ... receptive.”

Ryan took a moment to catch his breath, making a futile attempt to compose himself, then flipped over in the bed to push his face into the nape of her feathery neck. His hands roamed across her velvet skin unreservedly, tracing the contours of her voluptuous body, following the curves of her figure as he sank his fingers into her doughy flesh. She wrapped her arms around him and brought him closer, squashing him against her chest, one hand cradling the back of his head. Her fingertips brushed up and down his spine, her light touch making him shiver and groan into her ruff. She buried her nose in his hair and nuzzled contentedly, his rigid erection pressing into her paunchy belly due to their difference in height, and it was all that he could do to prevent himself from thrusting against her satin skin like an animal in heat.

“You are so taken with me,” she murmured, following up with a sordid chuckle. “It’s more than lust. I feel your burning need, and I want to satisfy it. No, I want to indulge it.”

She was attuned to his emotions like a radio antenna, so there was no need for fumbling attempts to explain how he felt about her or what he wanted when she could read his heart like the page of a book. There was an unbearable pressure building inside him, an urgent need for her that made him feel like he might explode at any moment.

So, why did he feel like he was going to melt into a puddle? He had always taken the lead with Becky, though it was true that she had been rather passive, often disinterested in their last few months together. Nahash was aggressive, unpredictable. He didn’t know what she would do next, and the prospect made him weak at the knees.

“I sense such uncertainty in you,” she cooed, combing his hair with her fingers. “Let me be your guide.”

Nahash gripped his wrists, rolling him onto his back in one smooth motion, the mattress creaking beneath her weight. She swung one of her long legs over him, straddling him, the blanket tenting as she sat upright. A pair of satin-soft thighs as thick as his torso enclosed him, long enough that her knees almost reached his armpits, Ryan’s aching member brushing something warm and wet. What felt like the puffy lips of her loins pressed against his shaft, fever-hot, and slick with her excitement. The sheets slowly fell away, sliding down her back to rest about her hourglass hips, revealing her upper body in all its glory. Porcelain skin and fur the color of winter snow caught the moonlight that bled in through the window, illuminating her in its silver glow, her golden eyes burning like embers as she looked down on him from above. The curves of her body cast deep shadows, further accentuating her figure, light and shadow conspiring to make her even more unearthly. Her lower body was still in darkness beneath the sheets, but those weighty breasts hung from her chest in full view, bouncing softly as they settled.

The air was cold where she had shrugged off the blankets, yet it amplified the heat from her body in contrast, Ryan feeling the warmth of her smooth skin where it pressed against his own. She was heavy, but he still got the impression that she weighed far less than she ought to, and it wasn’t too much for him to handle. Perhaps that was intentional.

She ground her hips slowly, tantalizingly, her loins still hidden in shadow as they rubbed against his erection. Ryan could feel flesh like wet silk sliding against his shaft, glazing his skin with her warm juices, but never enveloping him. He wanted desperately to plunge into that sopping opening, to feel her velvet insides grip him like a latex glove, but she did not release him from his torment.

She took one of his hands in hers and lifted it, planting it in the yielding meat of her breast, his fingers sinking up to the knuckle in wobbling flesh that spread around his digits like wet clay. His mouth began to water as he kneaded, Nahash’s eyelids fluttering, the pace of her grinding hastening as he explored her. She released his second hand, Ryan bringing it to her chest, catching another swaying breast to weigh it in his palm. He couldn’t cup one in a single hand – they were too large – her flesh simply swallowing him when he tried to lift them. Her velvet fat bulged between his digits when he dug deeper, Nahash arching her back as he found the firmer, more sensitive tissue that gave them their wonderful teardrop shape. Her swollen nipples pressed into his palms, rosy and pink, Nahash uttering a primal grunt as he trapped them between his fingers.

He let one of his hands wander down to her thigh, pressing his fingertips into a layer of fat that was just as inviting as that of her bosom, hard muscle rising from beneath to greet him as his clawing made her flex. Her skin was like satin, and he couldn’t help but stroke it, not finding a single hair or imperfection. This body wasn’t real – not the true sense of the word. It was idealized, inhumanly perfect, more the embodiment of an idea than anything natural.

She batted his hand away as it wandered between her legs, smirking down at him from on high, wagging her finger as if scolding a naughty child.

“Not yet. We have so much to do before our dance reaches its crescendo.”

She slid off him, the heat of her vulva moving away from his aching erection, but his disappointment was quickly replaced with renewed excitement. She began to crawl down his body, throwing the blankets over herself so that she was out of view beneath them, only her touch on his skin giving Ryan any indication of where she was or what she was doing. Her twisted horns caught on the fabric, dragging it with her as she went, their points betraying her location as she paused over his torso.

He felt her plant lingering kisses on his chest, biting softly as she went, her sinuous tongue leaving her mouth to lick and tease as she crawled her lips down towards his belly. The weight of her breasts came to rest on his hips, their size such that she couldn’t bring herself low enough to kiss him without them spilling over his waist, his cock sliding into the warmth of her cleavage for a few wonderful moments before she dragged them lower. She tickled his ribs with her claws, their sting contrasting with the softness of her indulgent mouthing, Ryan reaching a hand down to delve his fingers into the soft fur that served as her hair.

Wet muscle wound around one of his fingers, impossibly long and dexterous, more like a slippery tentacle than anything recognizable as a tongue. Nahash guided his digit towards her mouth, her puffy lips wrapping around it as she sucked it inside, nursing at his fingertip as though it were his member. He shivered as he felt her organ caress him, the sensation only amplified by the fact that he couldn’t see what she was doing. If she wrapped those lips around his shaft, he’d be finished...

She released him with a wet pop, leaving his finger damp with her drool, giving it one last doting lick before moving her head lower. Ryan covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a surprised yelp as she dragged her tongue up his inner thigh, straying so close that he could feel the heat of her breath on his balls.

She breathed warm air on his pulsing member, making him wait with her lips poised a mere inch away from it, Ryan’s heart beating so quickly that he feared it might explode in his chest. He covered his face with his arms, his spine rising from the mattress as she planted a gentle kiss on his glans, her lightest touch sending a wave of pleasure rolling over him.

With a start, he realized that she hadn’t even used her powers on him yet. This was just the tip of the iceberg of what she could do. Who knew what she could make him feel if she were to reach inside him and stir his brain like a pot of stew, playing with his emotions and his perception just as she did with his nerves. She could scramble his mind like a hit of LSD with a wave of her hand.

She gripped his hips to hold him still, her claws sinking into the meat of his butt, and he watched her horns tent the blanket over his groin. He couldn’t see what she was doing, and like being blindfolded, it only served to make him even more sensitive to her touch.

“The scent of a man,” she growled, her usually husky and musical voice taking on a gruffer and more sinister timbre. “It has been far too long...”

She wound her tongue around his shaft like a snake coiling around its hapless prey, smooth muscle coating his length with syrupy saliva as she scoured its surface. She had such fine control over the appendage, using its tapered tip to pull back his foreskin, driving a surprised gasp of pleasure from his lips as she painted the sensitive flesh beneath. She lapped at the pre that welled at the tip, teasing his tender underside, her tongue tightening around him as it began to pump like a fist.

Ryan couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t concentrate on anything besides the sensation of her muscular tongue mapping his most sensitive anatomy, his fingernails digging into his burning cheeks as he tried to stave off an orgasm that was already welling.

“Nahash,” he mumbled, his voice cracking as she lapped at his glans. “I can’t ... I’ll...”

She gripped the base of his member in her hand and squeezed it tightly, cutting off his impending orgasm. Ryan bit his lip, wincing as she uncoiled her tongue so that she could speak.

“I’ve waited lifetimes for this,” she growled, her voice softening once again. “Hold on just a few minutes more. I want to enjoy you. Let me savor the taste of your flesh, let me drink in your emotions as one would sample the bouquet of a fine wine. It is like a sweet nectar to me,” she continued, pausing to drag her tongue up his shaft. “The Seirim are empaths – we sense your every emotion just as one breathes in the aroma of a succulent feast, hinting at the flavors to come. I want to feel your suffering, your delight. Let me dine on your bliss before I take you.”

Her fervor surprised him. She had been so measured and refined up until that kiss in the forest, but now, she lusted for him with an intensity that might surpass his own. She had spoken so wistfully of missing the feeling of a cool breeze on her skin, how she longed for the taste of food and drink, how she missed dancing under the moonlight. Was it any surprise that she felt the same way about lovemaking? She was an earthly creature, prone to passion, with a reverence for all things natural. Like she had said, sex was the pulse of the natural world. It was the imperative of everything that crawled, flew, and swam on the planet, and the same was true of people – whether they wanted to admit it or not.

Nahash wrapped her soft lips around his glans, interrupting his thought, sucking him into her warm mouth as she gripped his base between her thumb and forefinger. She circled his throbbing head with her tongue, the harsh sensation making him squirm and writhe, but a hand on his hips kept him from breaking loose.

She drew him a little deeper, the inner lining of her cheeks sealing around him as she sucked, her velvet-smooth flesh pressing down on him like a second skin. Her lips slid down his shaft, inching along painfully slowly, the succubus tracing his bulging veins with her agile tongue as she went. His glans brushed the roof of her mouth, bumping against the back of her throat, Nahash finally kissing the hilt of his throbbing erection as she took it as deep as it would go.

Ryan was in awe of her, marveling at her skill through the haze of his arousal. He was by no means poorly endowed, and she hadn’t even flinched when his organ had grazed her gullet. Wet muscle closed around it like a vice, massaging his length as she swallowed around the foreign object, drinking down the saliva that was pooling in her mouth.

Her throat contracted around his cock in waves as though trying to drag him deeper, that agile tongue sneaking out to lick his balls as she held him there, fat globs of her drool escaping to wet his thighs. She kept her face buried in his lap for far longer than seemed reasonable, showing no signs of discomfort. Didn’t she need to breathe? How long could she possibly keep it up? The heat and suction were making his head spin, the teasing contractions as the silken lining of her throat rippled up his length making his toes curl. At this rate, he might break before she even had to come up for air.

Ryan still couldn’t see her – she was lurking beneath the blanket, a huge mound from Ryan’s perspective with pointed horns that tented the sheets above her head. Only now did she elect to throw back the covers to reveal what she was doing, her yellow eyes reflecting the moonlight as she glanced up at him, his cock buried to the hilt between her pink lips. She finally drew back, leaving a warm sheen of bubbling saliva on his skin, pausing to deliver a few more wracking licks before releasing him. His member fell from her mouth, bouncing back to stand rigidly in the air, Nahash watching it twitch as she wet her lips in anticipation of her next move.

“Your manhood beats between my lips like a heart,” she said, teasing his tip with her finger and watching a pulse of pleasure tear through him. “The men of this age are so impeccably groomed. You have the scent of soaps and perfumes about you, like an expensive courtesan.”

She chuckled to herself at the thought, but the comment surprised him. It was as if she had expected him to smell bad or to have poor hygiene, but he guessed that ancient tribesmen might not have had access to electric razors and shower gel...

Nahash nibbled on her claw in the way that someone might chew their fingernail, peering up at him with a comely smile, the cogs turning in her head as she decided what pleasures to subject him to next.

“How you squirmed when I took you into my throat,” she mused, Ryan’s brow furrowing at her teasing. “Tell me, did your lover never do that for you?”

“I ... no, we weren’t very inventive in bed,” he stammered as he struggled to collect his thoughts.

“Then, we shall have to make up for lost time...”

She took his erection in her hand and slammed her face down on it, driving his member up to the base as she buried it in her narrow gullet. Ryan groaned as though he had been punched in the gut, doubling over as a spasm of almost painfully intense pleasure tore through him. He fell back to the mattress, trying to regain his composure as she peered up at him with a gleeful expression in her golden eyes, reveling in his reaction. She was relentless, her foreplay apparently done with, sliding her lips back up his shaft only to push down again until she swallowed him completely.

Her head bobbed in his lap, her lips pursed as she applied suction, keeping her cheeks tight against his member so that they stroked him with every thrust. His tender underside rubbed against her slippery tongue as it lay beneath him, squirming and undulating as she swallowed excess saliva from their messy coupling, the muscles of her throat drawing him deeper and milking him in an unbearable rhythm.

His breath came in ragged gasps, Ryan pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes as he tried in vain to stave off the pleasure. Nahash wound her dexterous tongue around his erection, alternating the tightness of its grip to keep him guessing, strands of her slippery drool leaking from her lips. She had brought him to heights of arousal that he wouldn’t have thought possible, and now she was going to finish him off, as merciless and as efficient as an executioner at the chopping block.

This was nothing like what he was used to. The sensation was not concentrated in his loins, but rather spread throughout his whole body like a fog of tingling static. He could feel it in every muscle, in every bone, and he gritted his teeth as she brought her head down again to kiss the base of his member with her pillowy lips. The inside of her mouth was wet enough so as to be almost frictionless, his cock coated in a layer of her viscous saliva, fat strands of it hanging from her chin as she maintained her cruel pace.

He could scarcely parse the sensations that she was subjecting him to. The tight suction of her puffy lips and her soft cheeks, the frenzied motions of her slippery tongue as it lashed and coiled around his throbbing shaft, the feeling of her throat muscles beyond its satin lining as they massaged his glans with each gulp. She watched him with those amber eyes all the while, smoldering in the darkness, drinking in his every twitch as he neared the limits of his endurance.

Ryan turned his head, burying his face in the pillows in a futile attempt to stifle an unbecoming moan, pressing the plush fabric against his red cheeks in an effort to hide his expression from her. It didn’t work, however. She could smell the ecstasy on him like a bloodhound, watching his emotions play out as he experienced them.

He reached down and wrapped his fingers around one of her twisted horns, holding her tightly as she released his hips from her grip. She allowed him to thrust into her throat reflexively as his faculties left him, Ryan bucking like a beast in heat.

For a brief moment, nothing existed outside of the wracking pleasure, his muscles seizing as his orgasm crashed over him in crippling waves. His spine rose from the mattress beneath, now damp with sweat and saliva, a thick rope of his ejaculate hitting the back of her waiting throat as she held him in her mouth. Again and again, swells of tingling euphoria buffeted him, like a boat on a rough sea whose only option was to ride out the storm. He felt as though it might never end, like someone was pulling a knotted rope out of him through his twitching cock, Nahash sucking and licking dotingly as she drank.