Ambushed

Ambushed by a succubus in this sexy urban fantasy

He walked through the cut, the trees arched overhead and only moonlight lit the path ahead. People avoided this area after dark but he had been in a lot nastier places. He had usually been carrying an assault rifle then, but so had a lot of the bad people. English parks tended to be safer.

He sensed movement on the path ahead and instinctively stepped into the cover of the bushes. A girl was walking toward him. Slim, long dark hair flowing over her shoulders and wearing a light, unbuttoned, jacket, white shirt and tight, light blue jeans.

He stayed in cover, not wanting to suddenly appear and frighten her. She stopped on the path and turned to look directly at him.

“Hello,” she said.

He stepped forward, a little embarrassed that he had been seen so easily, and glanced up and down the path. Nothing moved in the moonlight and his senses told him they were alone.

“Hello,” his face smiled but his mind was still listening for the slightest sound behind him. Anyone approaching would have difficulty moving silently over the rough ground.

He allowed himself to focus on her as she stood in a pool of moonlight. Her olive-skinned, oval face was pretty and her wide, dark eyes looked at him confidently. The way the jacket swelled suggested she had large breasts and there was a hint of cleavage beneath the open neck of her shirt. Tight-fitting jeans moulded themselves to slender thighs and long legs.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “It’s not the safest place to speak to strange men.”

“I saw you in pub.” She tipped her head to one side. “I…” she paused as if searching for the word. “I fancy you, I follow you.”

She spoke as if she was not used to English but she had no trace of an accent and if she had followed him how had she been walking toward him? He looked around again. The wood was quiet.

“That’s nice,” he said still alert. There was no sign of a weapon on her although his training told him she could have something hidden in the small of her back, under the jacket. He was a big man, six foot three, muscular, difficult to knock down and had been in knife fights before.

The girl looked directly at him. “I want you to tear off my clothes and fuck me, fuck me hard.”

“What, here?” His eyes widened but there was a tingling in his groin.

“Yes, here, now. Do it now.”

“But what if you change your mind. Scream rape or something.” He smiled, not sure she was serious.
“I won’t,” she hissed. “Take out your phone.”

He reached into his jeans pocket and held up his phone.

“Point it at me and press video. I want you to tear off my clothes and fuck me. OK, got it.”

He nodded and slid the phone back into his pocket.

The darkness seemed to hang around them like a cloak. He could feel his heart beating, hear the blood pulsing through his body, most of it going one way.

He stepped forward. His fists clenched around the material of her white shirt and he ripped it open. Buttons spun off into the darkness and the material parted revealing the silky skin of her chest that swelled into two round peaks restrained in a white lace bra.

She brought up her hand as if to smack him across the face. His reactions took over, he lifted his left arm and parried the blow. His arm sliding down hers until he gripped her upper arm tightly. His right hand wrenched the lace from her breast exposing the sensuous curves topped by a wide brown aureole already swollen and pushing out the nipple.

His fingers grasped at the flesh until he caught the bud between finger and thumb and squeezed. She howled and her body sagged as if the energy powering her muscles was spurting from the teat.

He released her arm and in one sweep pushed her jacket, shirt and bra straps off her shoulders pinning her arms at her sides and leaving his hand free to clench the other breast. She moaned again, head thrown back, the sound echoing up into the night sky, rustling the leaves of the trees above them.

His hands grabbed at her shoulders. Spinning her around he yanked the jacket down exposing the flawless, smooth skin of her back but leaving her arms still restrained by twists of the jacket and shirt.
One hand slid over her skin under the crumpled clothes. No weapon. His mind was not totally focused on lust. His fingers grappled with the straining button that held the waist of the sky blue jeans hugging the curves of her bottom.

The material sprang apart as he unclipped it and he wrenched the jeans and her panties down until they bit into the muscles of her thighs. He pushed her forward so she bent at the waist. The firm round moons of her behind shone in the moonlight and the petals of her sex sparkled with excitement.

He tore at his belt, unzipping his fly. His hard flesh sprang out and he stepped forward ramming it into the centre of her flower that opened like the liquid petals of a water lily.

He felt her muscles tighten around him as if grabbing at his shaft and sucking him into her. The exquisite sensations as he slid her back and forth surged through his mind. He felt the energy that powered his muscles, the very sparks that triggered his nerves flowing down the core of that single shaft of flesh that connected them.

His seed erupted from the head in a volcanic rush as the woman pushed back hard so their flesh almost seemed to fuse together. She held him tightly with her muscles as if her hand was gripping his flesh, refusing to release him. He had heard of dog foxes, locked with the vixen for hours after mating and now knew what they felt like. He grunted loudly as his hips and cock pulsed with spasms sending his energy into her.

The woman relaxed. Sliding off him she fell forward onto the soft grass as if her body was no longer capable of supporting her. He bent forward as if to help her up but her eyes blazed at him.

“Go,” she hissed.

He turned, sliding his cock back into the sheath of his trousers, and walked away.

The woman sat up on the cool grass and pulled her bra straps shirt and jacket back over her shoulders. Her jeans were still around her thighs and one hand slithered down between her legs.

Sliding two fingers through her sex she scooped out a trail of white elixir. She pushed her fingers into her mouth greedily sucking them clean. This one was powerful. She could feel his energy flowing through her. She would need to be careful, make him last, not drain him completely, then he would sustain her for a long time.

She reached out to him in her mind. Yes, she could see him, they were linked.

The man paused and took out his phone. The screen shone on his face in the darkness of the park. He pressed play on the video. The ghostly image of the woman seemed to float in the air in front of him but the screen of the phone showed only darkly moving trees. He smiled.

First published in Redemption on Medium

Read the follow up The Protector on Medium. When the sex is out of this world, who is protecting who?

Note: If you follow or subscribe via WordPress you will miss out on the free content

Subscribe (it’s free) and be the first to read the latest stories.

What you get

Access to subscribers only free stories
Free access to Secret-Obsessions.com fetish content (Check the box on sign up as this content is more explicit)
Book previews and discounts
Selected subscribers may be offered opportunities to read and review advanced copies of my books and stories.

Sign me up