Anal, oral, threesome, forced, rough sex
My name today is Jack van Holden. I'm trying to live a simple life to keep out of the spotlight. Over the centuries I have been known by many names in many roles, because in reality, I am what people may call an Incubus.
I was born to a seer as an only child, before my people started counting time. My home were the deep forests and my tribe were the Cimbrians. We fought our enemies valiantly, but when I finally succumbed to a roman sword, I begged the great goddess for mercy. She granted me life again, on the condition, that it be dedicated to her. As long as I do her work, I may never die.
This is the story of my times in her service.
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In order to do the goddess work best, I will usually venture to the people that vilify sex and lust the most. Which is why in these times, my travels often lead me to the lands they call the united states of the americas. It is a strange place, this, as the spirit of the land does not necessarily call for chastity, yet the men there revere great leaders and heroes and in that fall easily for ideology and dogma. The women, as is so often the case, are just following in style.
Though I can go undetected, I prefer to be seen on my ordinary days. It gives me a feel and connection to the people surrounding me, and helps me gauge the course of my actions. Thus, when travelling to this isolated place, the entryway is most often an aeroport.
I used to love flying. After the centuries of travelling on foot, per boat, horse, cart, motorized cart, there was something liberating and magical about suddenly being able to fly. It was the first new, unknown and unfamiliar experience I've had in long aeons, and I used to just sneak onto the aeroplanes and enjoy the weightless, timeless space above the clouds.
Though flying did not lose any of its magic yet, things have certainly changed as far as hospitality goes. The last times I flew, I remember enjoying my times at the aeroports as well. They were bright lit, marvellous, majestic temples to the gods of air and flight, and would transit me gently from my earthbound existence to the magnificent experience that was to follow.
Now, they seem more like a zone for the stranded, a place of discomfort and hostility, where time is spent in endless waiting, suspicious questions and degrading investigations. The soldiers had taken over the country, and the aeroport was their first line of defense. Accordingly, this was the first place I would begin doing my work.
I was wearing the fine coats and clothes of the english isles that I've grown fond of. It was spring, not warm yet, and certainly still a lot colder in the place I was disembarking to than where I travelled from - a place called the "New York". I wondered what it had to do with the Old York when I stood in a long line of people, waiting for something to happen whose purpose was unclear.
From what I could tell, travellers were to go to great lengths to persuade the soldiers that they came in peace and bore no ill will, though what harm an unarmed crowd of peaceful people would be able to inflict was not clear to me.
When it was my turn, I approached the booth and was greeted by a woman. She was african, but spoke the american language, and I could not determine her tribe. Africa seemed to be far and long gone, and the times when I would travel the nubian kingdoms and could tell them from one another were a distant memory.
"Passport please," she said, without emotion. I handed her the papers. For the last 40 years I had been a swedish citizen, though I lived in Lisbon last. "Mr. van Holden," she said, looking at me, then at my picture, then back at me. I smiled. I looked the same as I always do, ageless, unchanged from the long and tired milennia behind me. I kept my hairstyle shorter and neat, the white streak in my otherwise bright red hair running slightly along my left side. I must still look old fashioned I assumed, since the last time I made changes to my appearance was when moving pictures began to appear and I wanted to look like the people on the screen.
My birthdate was set in the year 1963 of western counting, which made me look almost too young for my purported age. I told myself to take on a new identity soon, maybe even while I was in these lands, so I wouldn't run into similar problems as I did last time.
"What is the porpose of your visit?" she asked, handing me the passport back. "I am a visitor," I answered. I was already proficient at speaking her language from all the movies I've seen, and the music I heard coming from her country. "And who're you visiting, sir?" she questioned me further, seemingly unhappy with my answer. I raised an eyebrow. "Is that of any consequence?" I asked. She didn't answer and instead just said: "Sir, I need to know who you're visiting and how long you'll stay."
I shrugged. "It really is of no consequence," I said softly, feeling the goddess' touch. She paused and looked at me, her lips slightly parted. She was pretty, in a very african way, her lips were full and her eyes were dark and deep. She wore her hair in short braids and her uniform, though not showing her figure too well, would hint at voluptuous features.
She turned to another soldier, a fat man standing close by. "Hey, could you take over here?" He looked at her surprised, but said nothing and took her place as she turned back to me and said: "Follow me please," leading me into a room at the side.
We would go through an office where another woman, wearing no recognizeable uniform, would watch us pass. "I'll just need to question this one," the african lady said to her. The other woman looked at me, and then seemed more relaxed. I could feel her eyes follow me as I went on, though.
We finally ended up in a scarcely furnished room that held only a desk and a few chairs. She let me in, then locked the door behind us. I smiled. She beamed of lust, the goddess' grip was strong on her. She began to unbutton her shirt as she slowly walked towards me, her hips swaying in the style of her sisters. When she got to me, her ample breasts were showing as she pulled the shirt wide open, only held in check by a white brassiere that seemed much too small and squeezed them tight together.
"Mmmh," she moaned as I slid out of my jacket, her hand running down my breast. "Now, I think I need to search you thoroughly. You seem heavily armed," she giggled, as her hands hooked into the top of my pants, opening my belt and zipper. She pulled them down with her as she went to the floor, assuming the position that modern women seemed to accustomed to when it came to sex.
She carefully reached into my undergarment and pulled out my prick, which had already grown and hardened, slipping it between her soft, warm lips. "Mmmh," she moaned again, as she sucked the thick tip, her tongue playing with it inside her mouth. When she took it out again, slurping and licking along the shaft, she smiled. "I knew you'd have a gun under your clothes," she said. "I think I'll have to put it in my pocket and disarm it."
She reached down and pulled her tits out, pinching her nipples as she squeezed them around the shaft of my prick, rubbing their soft skin against it as she resumed nibbling at the tip again, making it stand hard and erect all on its own.
When she was satisfied with her work, she got up and squeezed her pants down her butt. Her figure was broad and voluminous, but well proportioned. Her breasts were full and natural, hanging nicely down her front and her butt was a little too small for her size, but nicely shaped. "Come and take me," she said, bending across the table, with a sultry impatience in her voice.
I got behind her, my hands running along her back, caressing her soft skin and tracing the curves of her shape. I felt her muscles tense under my touch, her body tremble as she felt my hard shaft already pressing against her butt. "Ohhh, put it in, please," she begged. "I need it inside!"
Wenn my cock finally parted her labia, sliding softly inside her, guided by the wetness of her cunt, she moaned deep and long. Just as I had filled her with the whole length of my dick, the door opened quietly, and the woman from earlier stepped in, staring at us. "Yacinda, what'e you doing?" she asked, but it sounded more intrigued than reproachful. Yacinda moaned in reply. "I'm taking this long cock up my pussy, and I'm loving it," she purred, her head sideways on the table, her eyes closed blissfully.
The woman walked closer, her hand playing with her dress. She was small and thin, white, slightly asian looking and wore a burgundy red woman's suit with matching shoes. Her hair was cut straight at chin length and was dark and shiny, as were her eyes. She smiled as she got next to us, rubbing gently along Yacinda's butt as I thrusted slowly in and out.
Her right hand moved down and caressed my balls as she was trying to get a feel of our action. The dark woman moaned louder and louder, squealing in between as the other one must've been playing with her pussy as well. The pale girl finally brought her hand back up and put the middle finger into her mouth, sucking at it as if it was a penis. Then, she carefully inserted it, wet and soft from saliva, into the tight black anus.
She began to fuck her fellow soldier woman's ass fast and firm, much faster than I pounded her pussy, though my thrusts became quicker and harder. Yacinda squalled from lust: "Oh ya ya ya ya, yaaaah, fuck that pussy, fuck that ass, fuck it good, ya, yaaaaah, fuck it!" The small girl felt her convulse around her finger as I did feel her tighten around my cock when she came, groaning long and loud. Then, the pale girl pulled her finger out and knelt beside her on the floor, looking up at me. "Please let me have your cum," she said subserviently, opening her mouth wide in anticipation.
"MMmh, yeah, feed that bitch," the big woman said as I pulled my cock out slowly. "Let her have that sweet cream that I milked your cock for." I placed the head of my cock at her lips and she wrapped her slender fingers around the shaft, stroking it slowly as she began to suck it for all it was worth. Not letting on and determined to have everything I would give her, it didn't take long until I came hard and copious. My sperm shot in gulps into her mouth and she swallowed repeatedly, never once letting my dick out or any of it escape her lips.
When nothing more was coming and I felt myself getting limp, she sucked it clean, making sure no stains remained on my cock, nor from sperm or pussy liquid. She then gasped "aaaahhhh," and let me see the remains of cum she had collected in her mouth. Yacinda had sat up in the meantime, and was rubbing her breasts, enjoying the sight. The woman stood up from the floor and leaned over to the other one, kissing her, sharing my seed between the two of them.
When she later led me out of the security checkpoint and gave me admittance to her country, she slipped me a little notecard. It had her name and address, along with her title: "Managing Director, Department of Homeland Security." I kept it in case I needed a friend.