Bound To An Incubus

Every night, like clockwork, I finish my night routine, smell nice, go to my perfectly arranged bed, and spread my legs like a buffet for a ghost (at least that's what I think it is) to lick me to heaven and back.

As I wash my face and clean my mouth, my mind goes back to the first time I decided to sleep without panties because Claire, my best and only friend, said it was normal.

I was raised in a strict, Christian home, and yes, I was a virgin at twenty-four, even though I moved out of the house a while back.

I just didn't find the right person and the last relationship I was in ended horribly before I could get comfortable enough for sex.

But I digress; I’d been enjoying the feeling of air blowing into my lower region and I could see why people would decide to go to bed without underwear when I felt a wet material lick my pussy from the base up to my clit.

I squeaked, shutting my legs quickly and running to get my underwear back on.

I checked around the house in paranoia, scared I was going crazy, but I didn't see anything, so I just went back to bed.

But my mind was going off its hinges, imaginations overpowered my common sense and I took it off again, slowly spreading my legs, half hoping it was real and half hoping I was imagining things.

I could hear the reprimands of the preacher at our local church as he called me a slut but I couldn't help the impulsive desire to feel what I felt before.

It didn't; for about two minutes and just when I'd thought I'd imagined it all, I felt it again, this time, firmer and with precision.

I gasped both in shock and intense desire, spreading my legs wider like the greedy slut I was being called in my head.

As the strange tongue lapped up my juices, I let out moans that didn't belong in my chaste, small apartment.

I was frozen in place, taking what I was given and enjoying what should have been a sign of madness but I knew I wasn’t crazy, at least in the normal sense of the word. This tongue was as real as the oxygen going into my mouth and the groans of pleasure escaping.

And so was the orgasm that hit me like a rocket ship, sending me off into the arms of sleep.

I'd never questioned it, never tried to understand how possible it was or why it was happening.

Except for the few psychological tests I did on TikTok to ensure I wasn't going absolutely crazy, I didn't do too much to discover why this was happening.

I simply went through the motions of work and minimal socializing so I could run back home and let the impossible happen to me.

Claire had noticed the change in my attitude but I very well couldn't tell her that I was getting head from a ghost now, can I?

I just had a wonderful excuse for not wanting to hang out every weekend, but sometimes I feel my excuses won't be enough anymore, and she'll have to come drag me out of the house.

But today, something different happened.

It has been happening for the past two months but I've never heard its voice or felt anything other than that wicked tongue that made me cum at least twice every night.

Not even when I tried asking it questions or begging for more. I didn't want to lose my virginity to a ghost, obviously, but in the throes of passion, my wants took a back seat, and my needs were more prominent; yet he never indulged me or said anything.

But tonight, as I spread my legs wide, my pillows on the middle of my back to give me more support, I felt something else.

At first, he blew into my already soaked center, making me shiver in delicious pleasure.

Then I waited for his tongue as usual but what I got instead was a long, thick finger that slid into my wetness, eliciting a strangled moan from my throat.

"Ughhh!" I screamed as he latched onto my clitoris with his hot mouth and the combination made me feverish with pleasure.

"Please, fuck!! Meeee!!" I moaned over and over again, the feeling one of insanity.

Just like in previous times, I didn't question this new development, only tried freeing my hands so I could grab at the head or something, but just like always, it was captive in a stronghold at the back of my head.

He removed the finger he'd been fucking me with and licked me from my clit all the way to my ass, and I couldn't help shivering with pleasure.

He did it over and over again, and just as I was about to quiver with the inevitable, he plunged two fingers into my nectar and began to fuck me furiously, the orgasm spilling out of my mouth, pussy, and every pore in my body.

He gave me only five seconds to rest before he lapped up the cum that had spilled out of me with his mouth for a minute, and then he transferred the wetness to my clit with his hand and began to massage it.

Tonight, my invisible bounds were tighter than usual, it's hold making me take this pleasure without a chance to think or talk or do anything but moan in pleasure and excitement.

I just kept quivering in wanton enjoyment.

By this time, I had made peace with the thought of going to hell, and that had reduced the voices in my head telling me this was wrong.

I knew it was but I couldn’t resist begging for more as the ghost tongue fucked me into paradise.

Then as my hips bucked in pleasure, for the very first time, I heard the ghost's voice in my ear;

"Good girl... Let go for me," I was too shocked to think but hearing his voice for the first time did something to me.

And my body obeyed without pause as my mind reeled over the thick, hard, and velvety voice of the invisible man that has made it his duty to make my nights full of pleasure.

I was allowed to relax again, but only for a few seconds which allowed me to process what had just happened. And then he turned me over, the gentle breeze of his prodding making me jut out my ass into what I assumed was his face.

Still, I turned my head to the side, hoping for more.

“Hello?” I croaked, more curious than scared.

I mean, if he wanted to hurt me, he would have done so a long time ago, but all he did was make me cum, and he never even took anything for himself.

“Shh,” I felt his finger on my lips, and out of instinct, I licked.

The taste of my juices coupled with the strange excitement of interacting with this invisible being had made me wet again, and as he fucked my mouth with his fingers, I spread my legs wider, my pussy hungry for something, anything.

“You're a hungry little slut, aren't you?” He groaned a chuckle, turning me on a little bit more with his voice. I could also tell this had him on edge, as horny as possible.

I think I'd discovered a new addiction. It was my dirty little secret and I didn't allow myself to think of the rationality of it.

Not when his hands snaked down my tank top all the way to my plump breasts.

I was still spread out in that position, my ass out and bare, with my pussy juice dripping down to the bed.

Then I felt his hand move from in between my legs, my body vibrating at the contact, and he went all the way to my tank top, pulling it down and exposing my breasts.

I gasped at the exciting sensation, groaning as he cupped both of them.

As he pulled my nipples, I let out a breathy moan.

“Please what's your name?” I asked into the darkness, hoping he'd give me something. Tonight has been shocking, different. Maybe I'd get something out of him other than toe-curling orgasms.

His hands were fondling my boobs as he began licking my pussy again, the new position making me heady. I’d put on loud music as usual but something told me my neighbors were going to be hearing more than Coldplay's vocals as I moaned out loudly.

In my throes of passion, I began to beg, plead, and ask what was usually impossible to achieve before.

“Please tell me … your name.”

He plunged his thick fingers inside me again and whispered into my ear at the same time;

“Rowan,” he whispered with his deep, sensual voice.

And I came hard, like never before, as I moaned his name aloud, my body shaking from how intense it was, and then I felt him leave, my body missing his warmth.

As I was enveloped with cold, my bounds loosening, I heard a knock on my door.

It was about 9:30 PM, who could it be?