It was the most powerful orgasm I had ever experienced. But it was a strange orgasm. Usually my orgasms feel like waves of fire falling over my body or exploding out of my body. This one felt like rivers of fire flowing from everywhere in my body down to my cunt and out into Lilith’s mouth.
I raised my head, gasping for air, and could see the seven men spread out on the floor around the bed. Four of them were on their backs with a Lilith riding them as they bowed upward off the floor in an intense climax. Three of them were face down with an Asmodeus plowing into their asses. They, too, were in the throes of an intense orgasm, but rather than bowing up, they were pushing back into their Asmodeus.
My orgasm continued and the river of fire kept flowing out of me and out of me and out of me and out of me until I lost consciousness.
I awoke at midnight on the couch in my apartment. My hand was inside my soft shorts with my fingers buried deep within my flooded cunt.
“That was a really weird dream,” I said aloud. “Nice… and satisfying,” I added, “but really weird.”
I didn’t think anything of it, but the next year on Halloween I had the exact same dream… and the next… and the next… and the next. In fact, for nineteen years I had the exact same dream. I moved to a different state. I got married. I had kids. But every year at Halloween I had the exact same dream. Some of the men and women in the dream with me changed, but the dream itself remained exactly the same. I would be picked up at exactly eight o’clock and I would wake up in my own bed or on the couch or in a chair in the corner at a party at exactly Midnight. When that happened, my husband commented that it was as if I wasn’t there for most of the party. I thought about telling him the truth, but instead just said that I hadn’t been feeling well.
Then last year the dream was different. Well, actually, everything in the dream was the same, but after my explosive orgasm, Lilith came with me back to my bedroom. My husband was sound asleep on his side of the bed.
Lilith stood above me and said, “You aren’t charging up like you used to.”
I looked at her in wonderment and perhaps fear.
“You are getting older,” Lilith said softly. “I don’t really want to consume you, but soon, perhaps as soon as next year, you will not have built up a large enough charge of sexual energy and I will drain you completely. You need to find someone younger to come to my party.”
“I don’t understand,” I said plaintively.
“I’m a succubus,” she replied. “My husband Asmodeus is an incubus. We draw our life force from the sexual energy of other people. The magic number of my name allows me to divide myself into seven parts. Asmodeus likewise has the magic number of seven. On this special night, we are able to each bring seven others to our party where we guide them to charge each other up with sexual energy. The feast of sexual energy we receive when that is released allows us to live for at least another year without having to feed.”
She stroked me between the legs and I felt a flood of wetness. “We do not want to kill others so that we may live. So we have come up with a set of party games that build up sexual energy in a person that we then pull into ourselves. But your sexual energy is fading. If you do not find a replacement, next year you might not return from the party.”
“Oh,” I said sadly. Then I asked, “How do I find a replacement?”
“It’s simple,” she replied. “All you have to do is to invite someone to the party. The first one who responds to your invitation will be your replacement.”
“That’s what happened to me,” I said. It was more of a question than a statement.
“Yes,” Lilith replied. “That’s what happened to you. You were the first to reply to the invitation you received in your email and I came to take you to the party.”
“But I don’t know how to send out a bunch of spam emails like that,” I whined.
“We were doing this long before emails existed,” she replied, “and we will be doing it long after the net is ancient history.” She cocked her head slightly and asked, “What do you know how to do?”
“I can write,” I answered. “I write a lot of stories, but I’ve never had any of them posted or published.”
“You write something,” Lilith said with a smile. Her white teeth seemed to gleam between her ruby red lips. “You write it, and I will see that it is published. And the first person to post ‘Why not?’ as a comment will replace you at the party.”
“How will I know if it is posted?” I asked.
“You will know,” she said with a laugh. “Don’t worry, you will know.”
As she walked toward the door of my bedroom, she looked back and said, “And don’t forget to thank the person who posts your story for you.”
Then she disappeared.
I wrote the story, and each night I have checked it on my computer. Tonight I suddenly had the feeling that someone was reading it and they would post it. So, to whoever you are, “Thank you.”
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That’s her story. Remember, if you would like to attend The Most Fabulous Halloween Party of All Time, just post “Why not?” in the comments. Maybe you will be the first. And maybe this Halloween night, Lilith– or perhaps Asmodeus– will stop by to pick you up.
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END OF STORY
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