Por: Michael S. Torres | Libros787.com
The creature climbed through the window leaving trails of blood from its drooping hands. It came onto the bed drenching it in crimson and slowly approached him predatorily, seductively. It stared at him with glaring yellow eyes, growling, and got close to him. It whipped out its tongue and licked the man all over his face, and stretching it to demonic lengths, it licked his entire body until it wrapped itself around his member. Pulling its tongue back it grinned. It moved its claws to its face and ripped it in half. It shed its hideous body and threw it on the floor.
A woman was now in front of him with luscious curves he could only dream of. She crawled to him, moving her tongue around her lips and biting them. She groped him and bent him to her will. Her devil tongue made him wish he had sinned sooner. She then sat on top of him and did what was next.
The room turned dark and lightning became the shuttering spotlight of the evils the couple were undergoing. They lay on top of a mountain, an orchestra of demons played to the rhythm of the deed, and they were spectated by an audience of the dead.
The climax came and the woman laid her body on top of the man, quietly resting. He moved his hand to comfort her, but she moved in for a kiss. Her tongue waltzed in his mouth and then tangoed down his throat. He choked. He felt her inside him and felt he was being sucked away.
When the woman had returned to her mouth there was nothing left on the bed but dust and bones. She licked her finger satisfactorily and moved her hands lustfully across her body, smiling with pleasure. As she fondled herself, the audience of souls applauded and the demonic orchestra stood and bowed.
“Hail the black goddess! Hail!” They all said. Their cheers were heard across the mountain.
She waved at her subjects, covered herself with the body she had shed and went to sleep. Dawn had come, and the monster slept away on the mountain, peacefully waiting for the next night, waiting for the encore.