Summary:
Jake, a demon with sensitive horns, shares an intimate night with his human partner Brandon on a Phoenix balcony. The two experiment with a role-play scenario where Jake pretends to be an incubus feeding on Brandon. During their encounter Brandon experiences unexpected feelings of shame tied to traditional expectations about masculinity. After the act, Jake becomes distressed when he senses Brandon’s discomfort, fearing he has done something wrong. The two eventually reconnect and agree to work through the confusion together.
Here is your Story: My First Time Fucking My Human
Jake said it’s a little embarrassing. Some people like having their nipples played with, and some people couldn’t care less. Horns are like that. I really like how it feels when someone touches them, but even for non-sexy things, touching someone’s horns without asking is not appropriate behavior. Brandon didn’t really know, and I like it anyhow, so I’ve never stopped him.
Unfortunately, mine are small by sublevel-ten standards. Despite their size, I still see fireworks when he rubs them like this.
“Yeah, I guess I knew you didn’t know how well, it’s pretty gah. See? I can’t even think when you do that! It’s not sexual for everyone. They’re just sensitive, like insect antennae, but I kind of have a hahahah stop”
I have to grab his wrists before I lose control and accidentally maul him or something. He really doesn’t understand what it feels like.
“I love them.”
Well, if he’s going to be cute about it. “That’s hot. Tell me again.”
“They’re the sexiest horns I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t lie”
“I would never.”
He touches one gently, trailing his thumb up to the tip. My jaw goes slack and my eyelids flutter, and I make a stupid, dopey noise.
“S-s-stahp”
I weakly flail at his chest, and he lets go of my sensitive skull protrusions and pulls me close so our naked flesh presses together. His skin feels cool and soft against my chest, not so soft a little lower down. I gently put my hand around his beautiful cock and squeeze. He lets out a soft moan that ends on a desperate note, making my own demonhood twitch and swell against his side.
The city lights look dim and blurry beyond the shroud of my wings. A breeze teases gently through them, and the constant buzz of the city hushes away in the night.
“I can’t imagine my life without you, Jake.”
“You sayin’ you can’t quit me?” I say in a very good cowboy impression and flick the brim of the cowboy hat.
“I couldn’t quit you if I tried,” he says back in a very bad cowboy impression, but that makes it even cuter. He sucks a breath in through his teeth when I squeeze his cock again, his hips pitching toward me.
“What do you desire, my sweet demon of chaos?” he says in my ear, not doing the cowboy voice, sounding very masculine and making me feel very sexy. My wings darken around us, even muffling the noises of downtown Phoenix. It feels like there’s a current running between us, connecting us like a buzzing loop of energy. I feel his hands touching me, but it’s like I’m touching myself, like we are one being.
Love. We do not have the same words for affection that humans do, and demon relationships can be more practical in some ways. A love-type bond is not typically one’s main priority in finding a mate. Life mates are not the norm. Compatibility of bloodlines, arcane abilities, the will of the old gods, and other logistical things all come into play. My mother raised us without our egg donor present, a very prestigious and virile demon I’ve never met who has multiple broods across sublevels. She was happy enough with his eggs to make nine of us, even though she got me in the middle. I guess getting one runty offspring wasn’t so bad, statistically.
But even if it’s because he doesn’t know any better, Brandon likes my little horns, and he loves me. Even if we have to be a secret for four more weeks and five days.
Hidden Desires Awaken
He kisses my jaw, pushing his belly against mine, our dicks mashing into soft places and against hip bones.
“What do you want, Jake? I’ll do anything.”
My instincts screech for me to feed on him. His wording is dangerously open for interpretation. I know what I desire.
“Brandon can we play a different game?”
I take the hat off his head and chuck it out of my wing-cocoon, then rake my fingers through his hair, along his scalp.
“Can you pretend I’m one of those big incubus demons, and I’m here to feed on you with sex?”
“Do you think you’re strong enough to hold me down? Even if I struggle?”
“Especially if you struggle.”
I wrap my hands around his wrists and feel the muscles and tendons flex.
“Then try and take me, demon.”
“You mean do you want”
“It doesn’t matter what I want. You’re a succubus, aren’t you?”
He tenses, trying to pull away. I yank his arms behind his back and hold them with one hand.
“I’m a big, scary incubus. And I’m much stronger than you.”
I smell the tang of adrenaline spike, the sweat beading on his forehead, and lick the side of his face. He shudders and leans into me. My saliva makes a warm spot on his cheek where he presses it to my chest. I take a deep inhale of his hair, then turn him around and push him toward the balcony ledge. He braces his hands there. I press myself up against his ass, all muscle, thick and firm. I take one arm behind his back and nudge his legs open, but he wrestles himself around before I can grab his other arm again so he’s facing me, hair falling in his face. I like how long it’s getting. My tongue flicks out and licks my lips.
“You’re not that scary,” he pants, twisting in my grip. “I bet I can escape.”
“Unlikely.”
I scoop him off his feet and take him to the ground, pinning his arms above his head and holding his legs down with mine. My little monster flares and leaks onto his stomach and his own tasty-looking cock. He starts to kick his legs. I pin his pelvis with mine.
“What are you going to do to me?” he grunts out, struggling beneath my weight.
“Anything I want, foolish human. You shouldn’t give permissions like that to demons. Especially not horny incubi.”
“Tell me what sorts of things you’re going to do.”
“Hmm” I push his legs up so I can press my cock up under his balls, where I ache to enter. “I want to fuck your virgin ass. Virgins are special to incubi, did you know that?”
“N-no, Iahhaha”
My tail thinks I’m moving a little slow. I take both of his wrists in one hand and suck on two fingers, push my tail aside to slide them inside. Our dribbling pre-goo helps lubricate. He tenses as I go deeper.
“Shhh, shhh, good human, relax. I’m going to fuck you a lot deeper than this.”
“Ohhh,” he moans and goes slack in my grasp, surrendering to me. His dick is soft and flopped onto his stomach, still leaking in a pathetic sort of way. Chaos buzzes around in my skull. My cock gets almost unbearably stiff with excitement, all kinds of dirty things to say bubbling around in my head. He doesn’t protest when I slide my fingers out carefully and scoop him into my arms. My tail sneaks up to rub between his legs as I carry him back inside. I may be playing succubus, but it would be cruel to do the things I’m going to do to him on the cold, hard balcony ground.
“Shit!” Brandon squeaks out. I realize my tail is continuing the work my fingers started. He doesn’t protest, only grips me tightly, whimpering as I lay him down on my bed and crawl on top of him. I try to keep myself from wildly humping him. My hips twitch. The head of my cock darkens to a deeper purple as it pulses with desire. I feel his want, tendrils of it creeping into my veins, seasoned with the sort of fear that is really bravery in disguise the cliff-diving excitement of newness, discovery, danger. I like this game.
Power Exchange
I take his wrists in my hands and bring one to my mouth.
“I thought you were going to escape,” I say, and kiss his veins.
“I’m trying,” he says weakly, hair damp across his brow, hips writhing. “But you’re too strong. I reallyfffuck”
My tail continues its mission of readying him for sex.
“You want me.”
“I”
“That wasn’t a question.”
I twist him around to his belly, arms behind his back. His muscles flex and flinch under his skin, still marked with bites and bruises. I feel good about claiming him but bad about hurting him, the way his wounds linger so much longer than they do for me, reminding me he is human.
Hopefully he’s okay with my tail really going for it.
“What isha that”
“You like it.”
“Mff!”
“Tell me.”
“YouI I like it. Your tail, your everything but I want more gah!”
My brain knows he means my dick, but my tail interprets that differently. My own head spins when I realize it’s nearly fully inside him. I have to concentrate really hard to gently extract it while Brandon whimpers and scrabbles at my arms with flailing hands.
There’s a hurricane of feelings raging inside me, gusts that batter me senseless wanting to apologize, wanting to feed, wanting to fuck, to cradle him in my arms, to rip him to pieces, to shred my own flesh in blood sacrifice, to brand a mark into the grand timeline. I hang on long enough to make sure he hasn’t been fatally impaled. He’s grabbing for me, pulling at my thighs.
“Please fuck me, Jake,” he says. His voice echoes in my head. With spit and pre-goo I press into him, pushing my hips down against the sculpted muscle of his ass. I grab everything, smell every inch of his skin I can mash my nose into, soak up his cries as I enter him. He gasps as I drive deep, and I feel myself swell. He shudders and moans as I push, pulse, devour him from the inside out. My tail lashes jealously across my back. I pull back his hips so I can come to my knees for more use. His head rests on his forearms on the bed, spine bowed and ass up for me, me, me, all mine, this delicious human.
I grab his hips, so greedy for him I wish I had two dicks, or three, or another arm, or some cameras set up so I could watch him from all angles as I mate him like animals on surface TV, feral and unelegant, just primal lust that burns in me like hellfire. He’s reduced to short vocal cries that match my thrusts, breath turning ragged. I feast on him his fear that he can’t take it long enough for me to finish, his embarrassment that his own dick is flopping uselessly against his stomach and dribbling on my blankets, the fact that his cries have turned to sobs, but he doesn’t want me to stop. He feels broken but whole. He feels special, and I feel powerful and sexy. I wrap my arms around his torso and press my horns against his muscular back as I see purple and feel all my nerves zap through my groin and up my cock, into Brandon, exploding like fireworks.
“F-f-f-fuck”
I pull out just in time to erupt in a forceful, gut-cramping amount of goo that splatters Brandon’s ass and thighs as he collapses onto his stomach, quivering and mashing his face into my pillow and twitching with each searing splat of my spunk. I feel lightheaded and let myself flop forward to land next to Brandon, who has his head buried in his arms, taking big breaths. I walk my fingers up his spine. He curls his back to me, so I wrap myself around him.
Like ink in water, something seeps from him into me an oily, uncomfortable feeling that makes my skin crawl but I press my cheek to the skin of his back, trying to understand it. Not regret, but
My skin goes molten. My face flushes hot. I bite my tongue but I can’t just let this go. It was my first time too. I tried my best to be good, but maybe I did something wrong, and I’ve got to know what it was.
“What part didn’t you like?” I ask the back of his head.
He sniffs. “What?”
“You” I want to hold him closer but I don’t know if I should, so I sit up and twist my tail in my fists. “You’re ashamed. You must tell me why or I will get really upset.”
He doesn’t turn to face me, but he scoots back so he’s leaning up against me, his spine scooping along my hip. He takes a breath. I am the most patient demon in this dimension waiting for him to speak.
“Brandon.”
“Everything is okay, Jake. I just I feel hm.”
I try to read him, but all I get is a fuzzy sort of confusion, embarrassment. That might be me at this point, and I’m starting to get upset that this is getting ruined for us.
“Tell me!”
“I feel like like a girl.” He says it, his voice choking on the word.
My face scrunches up. I reach around and grab his cock. He flinches but presses into my hand nonetheless.
“You do not feel like a girl.”
“I just guys aren’t supposed to fuck!” He punches the pillow, then mashes his face into it, whining something helpless-sounding. I can’t understand him, and it’s actually starting to piss me off. I’m all jazzed up from fucking him. My wings flare out, and suddenly I’m hovering above him, trying not to manifest them fully inside and break another ceiling fan.
“I thought we were having a good time. You were I could feel it! Don’t lie to me!”
He flips over and glares at me, his face pink and eyes gleaming.
“I’m not. I liked it so much I think there might be something wrong with me, okay? Asshole!”
He pulls one pillow over his head and flails his arm around until he finds another one and covers his crotch.
My heart stutters. I float down to straddle him, sitting on the pillow, and pluck at the corner of the one covering his face and try to peek at him.
“Brandonss.”
“Don’t look at me. I feel so stupid.”
This will not do. My human should feel cherished and happy, not stupid and ashamed. I let my wings fall over us and make us a dark little cave, a warm pocket of the universe that only we exist in. I hear him let out a big breath, and he lets me pull the pillow away. I can just barely see his hair cast across the sheet, gold against black, his features shrouded, his body quivering. Such a fragile thing. I frown in the darkness, knowing that’s exactly what he wouldn’t want to hear.
Then what do I tell him? Won’t he know if I lie and say I don’t relish taking him, overpowering him, being the alpha, winning him like a trophy? I swallow the hard knot of coal that forms in my throat and say what a human would say.
“I love you, Brandon.”
I mean it, I mean it so hard, but it still feels like a lie. Hot tears begin to form in the corners of my eyes without warning. I cling to him like I might fly off the planet otherwise.
To my surprise I feel him getting hard under the pillow. I rip it away, feverish for a solution to these awful feelings.
“You can fuck me now. Would that help?”
I locate his throat and kiss him, feel him swallow, his hands soft on my waist, his dick hard against my asscheek.
“No Jake” he whispers, and I try to be still. I try to be good.
“Please tell me so I can fix it, please”
“You can’t”
“Yes I can”
He grabs me tightly. I want to wrestle, fight, fuck, anything, but he holds me still, though I could certainly escape if I wanted to.
My heart stops when I have a horrendous thought. I feel like I might throw up. My wings flicker and my tail tries to tuck between my legs.
“Brandon the game I didn’t I didn’t mean to force you for real. Did you not understand? Did I oh no”
“No! Oh my god, Jake, you just just give me like five minutes. I can’t even think right now!”
“So I didn’t”
“No! Did you not hear me when I said I liked it?” His voice has a different edge to it that I don’t like.
“Okay.”
I hop off him, disappearing my wings. He squints in the sudden light, his face pale and blotchy, looking small and weak on my bed, still covered in my goo. I’m angry, hurt, and confused, and I feel like I might do something very chaotic if I stay in the same room with him, so I go to the bathroom and turn the water on. Crouching on the floor of the shower, water beating down on my head, I press my hand to my marking and try to untangle my brain, but this is the worst post-coital crash I’ve ever experienced. I feel numb, like I could just stay here and maybe the water would eventually erode me into nothing and that would be fine.
Humans. They are so hard to understand! Maybe if they just said what they meant instead of being all cryptic and keeping things from their
I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my jaw. Tears join the water streaming down my face. Am I even his boyfriend? Maybe I’m confused about that too. Maybe he thinks demons don’t care about that sort of thing, but I do. I inhale water as I hiccup with a sob and cough pathetically, suddenly very angry at myself. I dig my knuckles into my marking until it hurts.
Stop crying, you stupid baby. You’re a chaos demon, so be a chaos demon. Make him understand how you feel.
I wash up determinedly. He’s had more than his five minutes, so he should be ready to listen to what I have to say. I tuck a towel around my waist as nudity tends to undermine serious conversation, and stride back out to give him a large chunk of my mind.
I don’t know why I expected him to be dressed and waiting for me, ready to fight, but he’s not. Vitriol drains from me like I’ve sprung an emotional leak, and I’m left with a hollow in my chest and my eyes burning again to see him curled up, still naked and messy, in the corner of my bed, facing the wall.
What in the Eleven Hells have I done?
Brandon turned slowly, eyes wet but steady, and reached for my hand. “Nothing wrong, Jake. I just needed a minute to sort my head. Stay here with me. We’ll figure the rest out together, one step at a time.”
