An Itch to Scratch
Chapter 4

Copyright© 2018 by Armera Llsehi

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 4 - Trent has secrets. Doesn't every guy? Sometimes those secret lead to bad places, sometimes good ones. But it's not the destination, it's the journey right? But what itf that journey comes at the cost of who you are? For Trent, it could all be worth it.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Teenagers   Coercion   Consensual   Magic   BiSexual   TransGender   Fiction   Science Fiction   Paranormal   Incest   Anal Sex   Oral Sex   Body Modification   Transformation   Violence  

Not long after watching his sister masturbate, Trent’s parents got home. The rest of the day and evening went uneventful. He replays the scene of his sister over and over in his head. It was like this with him every time he had a chance to watch her. And then each time he begins to wonder if he had a girlfriend or Christy, would he still want to catch Thea in those private moments? Would he even think of his sister in a sexual way? These are thoughts he carries with him until he falls asleep.

It is late when Trent hears the door to his room opening, the knob turning so softly that it barely makes any sound at all. It is opened just enough for her to slip through, then it closes behind her.

“Trent?” It is a breathless, almost hoarse whisper. “Trent, are you awake?”

Trent lies motionless, but his heart is already beating like mad. It is too good to be true. Thea’s here, in his room? Well, it could be something innocent, like those stormy nights when they were a lot younger. Every time there was a big, scary storm, Thea would find her way into his room and under his covers. He was her protector from the scary storms. But that was a lifetime ago, or so it seems. Of course his thoughts are no longer innocent because of the fact he has the hots for her. Also, this could just be a dream too.

“Trent,” the voice of his sister whispers, her feet softly padding on the carpet, coming closer in the near darkness. The moon is gone, hidden away. “Trent, I couldn’t sleep. I was so...” She comes around the bed, to the foot of it, and stands there. Softly, very softly, the mattress shifts as she sinks her hands into its surface. Trent expects her to just continue moving forward to cover his body with hers, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, she sits down at the end of the bed. “I know what you like.” She props up her knees.

Trent can just make them out and the stocking covering them. His head begins to throb with every beating pulse of his heart. How does she know? Her hands move to her thighs. Her fingers dance across the nylon of her body. He notices that even her arms are covered with fingerless net nylon gloves. He can’t remember ever seeing a pair of those, otherwise he would have used them already. Maybe they are something new? And suddenly the pulse throbbing in his ears has shot down between his legs.

Moments later her eyes fix on the visible bulge beneath the covers. Her eyes narrow, her lips purse. She catches a breath as she begins to stroke her legs more deliberately. She runs them up to her knee before letting her fingers cascade down the sides of her calves toward her ankles. Every inch is covered in shiny silk that now reflects in the suddenly revealed moonlight. Trent’s cock is straining against his clothes.

His eyes start travelling up those sexily covered legs to her belly. Something glints in the moonlight, and as he focuses harder he notices a piercing. Thea doesn’t have any piercings, not even in her ears. Unless this is new, this is not his sister. Swallowing hard, he prepares to continue his gaze. There is a chance it is Christy, but with Thea’s voice? His eyes jump straight up to her face. She is beautiful, absolutely gorgeous, but clearly not his sister or Christy. She has pointed ears and two thick, curved horns protruding from the top of her head. Strangely, she looks familiar.

Then it clicks, like a bulb turning on inside his head. The costume! She looks just like the costume. Is she the costume? Did it come to life? Is this real?

“So stockings really turn you on huh?” she whispers. “I know me being here is a shock; I can see it on your face. But I am here now, so why don’t you get a little more comfortable. Take your cock out for me.” As she says this, she reaches for the covers and peels them back. She senses his hesitance. “I want you to see what I can do to you with my legs in these stockings. I want to see how hard I make you.”

“Who are you?” he asks.

“I think you know that already,” she answers. “You did steal me away from Volmor.”

Trent feels that pulsing in his head again. “I ... um ... this is too good to be true,” he mutters.

“Then, you should take advantage of it while you can,” she offers. “Take your cock out for me, now.”

Trent’s minds stops and his body takes over. Answers or no answers, he isn’t going to pass this up, no matter how weird it is. This is probably the reason the old man didn’t want to sell the costume to him. So he complies and sliding his hand inside his shorts and wrapping his fingers around his cock. It feels hot and smooth, and it’s getting stiffer by the second. Her eyes are fixed on the space between his legs. Her lips are open, soft and wet. He pulls it out, revealing it to the creature.

Her eyes go wide and she gasps, “Your cock is gorgeous.”

Her delight at seeing him only excites him more. Trent’s cock is throbbing now. Precum flows over the tip and down his length.

She looks deeply into his eyes as she says, “I want you to play with yourself for me. Stroke your cock while you look at me in these stockings.”

Trent doesn’t need any encouragement. His hand starts stroking up and down, stimulating every inch of his shaft while his eyes drink in the sight of the creature. Her hands stroke up her legs, catching the side of her black panties and pulling them aside. She shifts a little, putting more of her body into the moonlight to reveal the curve of her ass, hips and waist. Her body is painted in perfect tight nylon. The sheer fabric is inseparable from her skin, hugging every inch. The glossy surface catches the light, drawing Trent’s eye to the curve of her hip, and the length of her thighs. His hand speeds up and he begins to thrust his cock into his fist.

“Do you like my stocking?” she asks.

“Yes,” Trent says in a pant.

“Do you want to touch me in my stockings?”

“Yes,” he answers with another pant. Another rivulet of precum streams from the tip of his member.

“Good. I want you to. My stockings feel so good on me.” As she says this, one hand grips her thigh while the other slips between her legs. She keeps her knees together, keeping pressure around her hand as it presses into the valley between her thighs. When fingers meet with pussy through the fabric of her panties, she arches her back and moans. “It has been far too long since I’ve had this.”

 
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