Worst Sex Demon Ever

She held him in her mouth expertly manipulating him to aftershocks until they both eventually stopped and she rolled away from him.

"What the hell," he asked, confused and staring wide-eyed at the dark ceiling. "That was... That was the best blowjob I've ever had."

She crawled up the bed and lay on her back beside him.

"Of course, it was, idiot," she said quietly.

They both remained still and silent for about ten minutes before he got up to use the bathroom.

'I guess it does make sense,' he thought. 'If she can experience what I experience, then she would know exactly what to do.'

He dabbed the urine from his tip and flushed the piece of toilet paper before washing his hands. Back in his room, he decided to put his underwear back on as a sort of courtesy.

She had gotten under the covers and was laying on her side, facing away from him, on the far side of the bed. He paused a moment to consider sleeping on the couch, but it was apparent that she had no objection to him staying in his own bed with her, so he softly climbed back in and lay on his own far side facing away from her.

The clock across from his face glared 6:34 am in red.

'Good thing I don't have work tomorrow. ... Today,' he corrected. He made a valiant attempt to fall back asleep, but it was ultimately futile as his every thought was of her and the situation as a whole.

When 8 am rolled around, he figured he might as well get up. He slipped into a pair of shorts and stared at her debating whether or not he should say anything. He turned and walked out with his decision to leave her be.

He felt a bit aimless. He normally didn't eat breakfast, and he would just do some things on his computer for a while, but he did feel a little hungry. He wondered if she would want anything to eat. He fried a couple of eggs for himself but decided to not cook anything for her just yet.

He sat at the kitchen table to ponderously eat, and as he was on his last few bites, she appeared from the doorway looking somewhat depressed.

"You like eggs?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I'll cook you some if you-"

"I don't want any fucking eggs," she said in a manner that at least matched her mood, if not her choice of words.

He thought better of pressing the issue, but he felt bad seeing her this way. She dispassionately sat down on the sofa and picked the book up to study it further.

"Learn anything?" he asked, getting up to clean his dishes.

She let out an exasperated sigh, set the book on the coffee table, and lay down on the sofa with her arm across her forehead.

"Some. I guess. Whoever wrote this actually designed a new, functional summoning circle. I'm not sure exactly what it was meant to summon, or why it was me, and I can't identify the language, but it's apparently real."

He finished cleaning in brief silence and then made his way to the chair that he had brought into the living room. He sat down and then she continued.

"The sigils used are not common ones. I mean, they're not commonly used at all, nevermind in a summoning circle. It's like writing a sentence using only synonyms for the words you mean to use, so the sentence doesn't make any sense as it is, but it would if you already understood the essence or context."

"Kind of like interpreting a poem? Or a haiku?"

"I suppose, in a sense."

"Maybe you're being too academic about it, then."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" she asked with a slightly annoyed glance.

"Maybe, right now, you need to try to just understand the essence, as you said. Don't worry so much about what it specifically means, and just let an impression formulate in your blank mind. What does it... feel like the person was hoping to accomplish?"

She closed her eyes and refreshed her memory of what she had thought about before, and then the nature of summoning. She then slowly let all of that melt together, so to speak, into an idea.

"Wanting to... find... unity." She opened her eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling. "I think the person was..." She stopped as she suddenly tried to factor herself into the equation.

'They didn't summon me,' she realized. 'The person who designed it did not summon me. If they succeeded, then they summoned someone else. That means... what that guy wanted... I am for this guy.'

She closed her eyes again.

'This guy didn't know what the hell he was doing. He did not... choose me. I was just the appropriate choice.'

She felt something at the corner of her eye, so she brushed her finger across it to get rid of it. To her surprise, it was wet. She opened her eyes and sat up as she wiped more.

"What the fuck?" she asked in shock and confusion. "What the fucking hell?" She rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

He stood up quickly and walked about half the distance, but halted, unsure of what to actually do.

"Tears?" she asked nothing or anything as she looked back and forth between her wet fingers and her eyes in the mirror. "Fucking tears?"

She wasn't crying, at least not in the typical sense, but there was definitely water coming out of her eyes.

"I don't cry," she growled to her own reflection. Her furrowed brow looked fairly convincing. "I don't fucking cry. You don't fucking cry." she almost shouted at her reflection.

"Are you okay?" she heard him say through the door, and that enraged her.

She threw open the door and shoved him away with impressive strength, sending him flying backward several feet before landing on his back in the area between the living room and kitchen.

"No!" she shouted. "I'm not fucking okay!" She hurried to kneel over him and pummel his head and torse with her fists. "Don't ask me if I'm fucking okay, when I'm obviously not fucking okay, you fucking dumbass bastard! I don't cry!"

He managed to protect his face, for the most part. The impacts hurt, but were suspiciously bearable, all things considered. She was holding back. He remembered the kick in the crotch she'd given him before. She was feeling every hit she landed on him.

He looked at her face between flying fists. Despite her continued claims, she was now quite obviously crying. He could even feel the occasional tear land on his arm and chest.

In an instant of opportunity, he quickly reached his arms around her torso, and with a combination of raising his own, and pulling hers down, he locked himself into a hug and held firm to her.

"Get the fuck off me!" she almost shrieked. She wriggled trying to escape. She grabbed at his hair and shoulders, but his closeness afforded her very little leverage with which to push him away. "Get off me." She was no longer yelling.

She had slowed and her attempts to free herself were feeble. Her hands eventually fell impotently at her sides and she just sobbed.

After a moment he loosened his hold enough to show he was no longer fighting her, but his arms remained, and he adjusted his hug to something more appropriate to his feelings. He felt her arms wrap gently but firmly around his head and neck, and he felt the side of her face against his hair.

He waited until her crying had subsided to a soft weeping, then he carried her into the bedroom and lay her down. She turned away from him and curled into a fetal position. He put the cover over her and lay behind her with an arm resting across her.

She eventually fell asleep, as did he. A few hours later, he awoke to find she hadn't moved.

'She still asleep?'

He carefully peeked over just enough to see that her eyes were open, and then he lay down again.

'She didn't push me away.'

"He was wanting to find unity, you say?" He kept his voice soft.

She remained silent for a moment but then spoke in a similar tone.

"Something like that." She was confident that she knew exactly what that other guy was wanting to summon, but she still could not bring herself to say it out loud. Especially not to this guy.

"Turn over," he said quietly.

She did nothing at first but then shifted herself to face him. He was very close and had a soft smile as he looked over her face and eyes. She stared at him tracing his index finger over her features.

She'd never felt a touch that gentle. It was so foreign that even curiosity alone would have prevented her from stopping him, but she also found it physically pleasing.

A question ran through his mind as he traced her lips.

'If I tried to kiss you, would you stop me?' He desperately wanted to ask her that, but then again... he didn't.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. When there was no retaliation, he kissed.

It was the most magnificent kiss that she'd ever experienced. She was enthralled. At first so serene, but then her heart began pounding. A warmth spread throughout her body.

He rolled over her and hovered until breaking the kiss to travel it down. She felt him making a path over her chin and down her neck. He was away a moment, and then her shirt began moving up.

Her eyes opened to see him lifting the shirt away. He looked into her eyes a moment, and then lowered to her once more, to continue the path across her collarbone and down the slope of her breast until her nipple stiffened beneath his tongue.

A familiar heat began to emanate from her belly, but there was something different about it. Her skin was electric against his hands, and her stomach quivered under his lips.

She gasped and a moan suddenly escaped. He somehow compelled her legs to draw up slightly and her hands to hold his head as hers tilted back.

What was this magic he was casting? Her insides felt like they were growing. Building up with pressure. She couldn't stop making this mewling sound.

It felt like her brain and body were on fire, and she wanted to cry out, but for a moment everything was halted and then released. She could finally let out that cry as she expanded to fill the universe.

She gasped for breath as her eyes opened wide with the feel of waves subsiding within her.

"What was that?" she breathed.

He moved up to meet her eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"What was that?" she repeated. "What did you do?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I've never experienced anything like that before."

He was thoroughly confused.

"You've never experienced... an orgasm before? I'm pretty sure you have. Probably many, I'm guessing."

"Never like that."

It took a moment for the realization to set in for him.

"Wait," he said. "You've never experienced your own orgasm, have you?"

"My... my own?" She reached down in search of his crotch and grabbed a decidedly not hard mass.

"Ach! Watch it. Jeez."

She noted the fact that his shorts were still on, but she felt none on herself.

"When did you take my shorts off?" she asked off-handedly. "That wasn't your orgasm? You didn't cum?"

He just grinned and said, "Nope. That was all you."

"That was so much better than yours."

"Hey, you don't have to rub it in-" Her lips cut him off. After a moment she broke away and left him smiling. He rolled off to her side and she hugged him.

"So much better," she repeated into his chest.

'I'm glad I could give that to you,' he thought as he absentmindedly slowly stroked the back of her head.

She felt at ease in his embrace, pressed against him. The soft rhythmic sensation of his fingers on her scalp was almost hypnotic as if it were enticing her to sleep, and so she obliged.

'Why does all of this feel normal?' he pondered. 'I anticipated none of this. I summoned an actual demon, for fuck's sake. A short, blue, bald, violent, foul-mouthed demon. But... it's felt normal the whole time.'

He tilted his head down to kiss the top of hers. She was very still apart from her shallow and steady breathing.

'Is she asleep again? Jeez, it's like she flips a switch. Must be nice.'

He wasn't tired, but he was content to remain in bed to hold her. None of his previous partners had ever snuggled up so close to him. This realization made him sad about his past, but he took joy and consolation in the fact that this made her all the more special.

After some time, his bladder convinced him to get out of bed. It was taking longer than usual to finish peeing, and perhaps only halfway through he was surprised by hands emerging from around his sides.

'What the-' he thought, internally startled, but then the instant he felt her body against him, he realized it was her. 'While I'm peeing, huh?'

Her fingers slid across his abdomen but unexpectedly continued downward. She seemed to be deliberately delicate in moving her fingertips along the side of his scrotum and the length of his mostly flaccid dick. Although that state of it was short-lived.

'Woah. Hey, now,' he thought as he began to grow erect, still in the process of peeing and causing him to adjust his posture in order to prevent making a mess.

She lightly moaned into his back and began teasing him with feather touches. Some small part of him wanted to tell her to stop, but apparently, that part was overruled.

With some increased difficulty, he finished, dabbed himself dry, then flushed the toilet, which she immediately took as a cue to fully grip him and begin stroking. She released a sigh onto the center of his back.

"I've got to-" he started as he turned to face her, but her hand on his shaft repositioned without ever breaking contact. The repositioning itself was a stroke that ended with her holding him underhand and continuing. He forgot what he was about to say and his eyes closed on their own for a moment.

'Oh, my god. She does this so perfectly.'

He opened his eyes to see hers half closed in a fog of pleasure. The sight fascinated him.

His gaze wavered and happened across precum dripping from his tip, and then a slight shift revealed a drop of her own juice had made its way down her inner thigh, almost to her knee.

He got a taste of her earlier, and though it was of only traces, the flavor was divine. It was all he could do to refrain from commenting on it when he had been licking her.

A falling drop caught his eye and he looked to the floor to find a small glistening pool. Whatever self-control he had left him.

Without regard for her grip, he dropped to his knees and buried his face in her dripping slit to drink deeply. She gasped and nearly lost balance, but grabbed the sink and his head to help stabilize.

It was a jarring sensation switch for her to experience. As a sex demon, her focus was always meant to be on her summoner's pleasure, and she felt his amplified to maximize efficiency. It wasn't that she was unable to experience her own, but that her own was always overshadowed and never got as much focus.

His pleasure emanated in her mind and had a psychosomatic effect on her body, but this was like a sudden reversal of that flow.

The absence of his pleasure in her mind offered a quietness that allowed her to figuratively hear her own body.

Her mouth opened but only occasional sounds came out. Her breathing was labored and erratic. Her head could not decide if it wanted to be thrown back or tilted down to him.

His ravishing tongue was soon accompanied by fingers slipping into her and stroking her walls.

"Fuuck. Yes," she managed to utter, but his increase in speed rendered her an incoherent source of elongated whines until a cry out heralded an explosion. Her body no longer serving her will, it convulsed beyond her control.

Slowly, that control returned to her, but she was not sure that she wanted it. She opened her eyes to his face soaked in... it wasn't sweat. He returned his attention to her pussy, licking up the same wetness from her burning slit and her inner thighs.

'Was that... from me?' she asked herself.

He released her to stand on her own and arose to kiss her lips. It was a familiar taste. She tasted it countless times on countless dicks, but never this strongly and never on anyone's lips.

She felt his warm hands wrap around her buttocks and he lifted her. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him and held him securely while he carried her into the bedroom and then lay her down.

The ability to fully relax was a sweet relief. After a few more kisses, he raised up staring into her eyes. She had no expectations. Just this sight of him was all she needed at the moment.

She raised a hand to place it on his cheek, but then she felt something push into her again. Her eyes were forced wider again as the flow of sensations seemed to crash into each other.

His pleasure in her mind reached an equilibrium with the pleasure from her body, and they both seemed to swirl throughout her being.

Every stroke of his dick pumped pleasure into her from both her mind and her body. First slowly, and then with a gradual increase, she became a whirlpool spiraling tighter and tighter until the incredible force abated, releasing the energy to dissipate of its own accord.

When she regained her awareness, it was his face above her again. He smiled, and she felt his fingertips on her cheek and jaw.

"My god, you're beautiful," he whispered.

EPILOGUE

He opened the front door of his apartment, stood aside, and waited to see what she would do.

She stood at the portal apprehensive. The previous sense of dread that filled her on her first attempt to leave made it feel like she was in a sort of mental prison. It felt like something outside of herself was keeping her there.

Now she was not so sure. She had a lot of reasons to believe it was her own subconscious warning her, but she still feared the possibility that she was magically trapped.

"Well?" he said, patiently.

She said nothing, and after a moment she somberly walked to the door and closed it. She turned to him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, pressing the side of her face against his chest.

"Some other time, maybe." She paused. "I don't want to go anywhere, right now."