City of Opportunities 3 – From Bottom to Top [Erotic Content]

[A quick Author’s Note for those of you who might read this as my first work: When you see the [Erotic Content] marked in a title, the chapter is designed to be skippable. That means, if you are not in the mood for lewds, you can go straight to the next one without missing story context.

Also, all pictures in this story where generated with the approval of the artist whose style is being emulated by the AI.]

Their kiss began chaste, a simple meeting of lips. Thoughtless instincts had him push forwards with his tongue swiftly. She relented to his whims, the softness of her mouth parting like her silky hair around his fingers. Though her own tongue pushed back, the motions were clumsy whenever they weren’t in reaction to him.

Eldred had always imagined that a kiss would be sweet. He was partially right in that, though the taste of her lips was unlike any other sweetness he had come across. It was faint, more like the scent of honey than tasting the sugary substance directly. Simultaneously, her taste was minty, though he was not sure how much was her and how much was his brain rationalising her nature.

Nyx wasn’t the first woman without body temperature that Eldred had ever encountered, only the first one he was fortunate enough to kiss. Though he knew little about undead, he was certain that they were just another category of species among the many entities in Iridescia. Ignoring the lesser undead, to whom none of his male instincts would have reacted positively anyhow, they were every bit as capable of loving, lusting, and even bearing fruit to the consequences.

One had to wonder what even made them undead at that point, but Eldred did not have enough blood in his upper quarters to contemplate that question at this time.

All he knew was that he wanted her. Desperately.

He moved atop her, lust animating him to taste her lips from different angles. She writhed beneath him in equal measure. Her back arched, the ectoplasmic bedding responding to her will to support the press of her flat stomach against his midriff. Soft breasts met his chest further up.

Even with the hoodie between them, Eldred was certain that he had never been treated to any sensation as delightful as her breasts squishing against his pectorals. He had imagined the feeling many times, typically with assets larger than this. Not that they were small and neither would it have mattered much if they had been. In this moment of flattening of pliable meat and the soft poking of pebbled nipples, size truly meant nothing. Only that they were touching him mattered.

Eager to explore more of her, to satiate the long unfulfilled need for companionship, his hands roamed down her form. His knuckles brushed over her slender neck, feeling her pulse. There was an ebb and flow to it, more of a waveform than the drumming of the human heart. It was different in a way short of being alien.

His hand glided over the swing of her side. It boggled the mind that a woman this gracefully slender could yet have such a curve to the pinch of her waist. There was delectable firmness there, beneath the tattered dress and the white skin. Muscles that had been honed not by a regimen but by simple healthy living.

Further on, down to her rear, his exploration went. If her breasts were softness and her side hardness, then her derriere was the flawless fusion of the two. Having not yet seen that part of her, he ran his palm over the curve repeatedly, mapping out the bubbly shape. It was, like all of her seemed to be, just perfect.

His fingers pressed into the pert flesh, feeling the pliable outer layer and the firm core. The skirt had rode up and he pushed it further, feeling her taut, smooth skin nakedly. It was yet another sensation he had never felt before, adding to his rising intoxication, guided by faint, minty sweetness and the scent of a winter’s midnight rising from her white hair. Her skin had the smoothness of polished ice, yielded like freshly fallen snow, and yet was not cold at all. Even the draw on his vitality had retreated to the background.

Eldred squeezed her thigh. The shapely leg was wonderfully proportionate to her tall figure and inviting hips. She was not the kind of voluptuous figure the gremlin he had met just an hour earlier struck. Hers was the balanced beauty of a woman where everything was simply in order.

While his left hand had roamed all the way down, his right had remained on the back of her head, keeping her in the unbroken kiss. He was leading it with absolute authority now, her own motions relegated to reactions to his. All of his clothes felt too tight and stuffy, yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop tasting those lips. He was utterly mesmerised by the sensations she offered.

Slowly yet impatiently, his right hand ventured down to her shoulder, then down her arm. It was the simple wish for more intimacy that brought him there, culminating in his fingers intertwining with hers – and noticing the subtle trembling therein.

Eldred broke the kiss in a moment of uncertainty. His lungs took the opportunity to fill themselves with more than shallow breaths. Nyx did the same. The cascade of smacking lips was replaced with the gasping and sighing of the bedded duo.

He observed her carefully, looking for any signs of fear, of regret, of doubt for what they were doing. All he found was an intense and nervous anticipation and… a sadness. Her sapphire eyes spelled out the question of why he had stopped? Before her black lips could formulate the same, the driven man voiced a newfound need, to soothe and to steady.

“I will take care of everything,” he assured her. “There is nothing to be nervous about. If, at any point, I move too fast or too slow, let me know and I will correct it.”

Nyx stared at him for several long seconds, her body practically melting below his into a relaxed, relieved state. “I will leave it all to you,” she cooed, her voice a little, thrilled song of surrender. Her trembles stopped.

They were still learning together, but he was now the firm leader of their shared exploration. When next his hand brushed over her naked skin, she moaned loudly. It was the single sweetest sound that Eldred had ever heard. Just his touch seemed to make her squirm.

‘I need more of this,’ he thought.

Pulling away was barely possible. He immediately put his hands to the collar of her tattered dress. Following a primal impulse, he strained the muscles in his arms. The cloth yielded as easily as one could drag their hand through water. As he tore open its length, it dispersed into a fine mist, the wisps dancing momentarily in the little sunlight the ectoplasm allowed into the room.

Nyx lay naked below him. The blackness still clad her lower arms and legs like liquid latex, framing her pale nakedeness in a way that emphasized everything. Hard nipples crowned her moderately sized breasts. Her midriff was a landscape of peaks and valleys, flat and shapely, divided by the linea alba, yet not too muscular. Between the swollen mons sat her lower lips, glistening in their natural pink colour. One of her shapely thighs was raised at an angle. Her back was mildly raised, her ice blue gaze underlined by a warm blush.

“Gorgeous,” he whispered. “Just… gorgeous.”

Forlorn and yet needful, she beheld him. Her eyes wandered down to his chest and the strain of his crotch, almost entirely hidden by his overhanging hoodie. The clothes on his own back felt heavier than ever. “May… I?” she asked quietly for permission.

Eldred let the question hang in the air. That she waited pleased some part of him he hadn’t previously known about. “You may,” he responded, his voice drifting to the deep and husky.

It had his partner shudder. The banshee rose into a kneel and put her arms beneath his top. She pushed it upwards with the bend of her elbow exploring the textures of his chest even as she undressed him.

Eldred was not necessarily proud of his physique, but he could certainly say that he hadn’t let himself go. He had eaten good protein and, though indoors, worked out often enough to maintain a slender build with definition. He was too wiry to be called truly athletic, but he was closer to it than being truly thin.

Hoodie and shirt were thrown off in one motion, staying in their layers even as they met the ground. Nyx traced their trajectory, then snapped back to his chest. She froze for a moment. “Are these…?”

“Not because of you,” he assured her. The bruises from earlier that day covered his chest with marks and dull throbs. He had ignored both so far and would continue to do so. Nyx did not. Not until he took her chin and **** her to gaze into his eyes again. “I am only half naked and I did not say stop. Do you like undressing me?”

“Yes…” she whispered, entranced by his tone. Seeing and hearing a woman have this reaction to him made the hairs on his arms rise in pleasant shivers.

All the same, his voice remained steady. “Then keep going. Just trust me. Can you do that for me, Nyx?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

The two words crossed his lips before he realized how demeaning they might sound. Nyx lowered herself to his waistband with swift enthusiasm. The flexible waistband of his jeans was swiftly peeled back. Again, the banshee tugged both layers of garments off him simultaneously. Her bottom was up, the twin moons of her pale cheeks a luscious display. Her top was down, her lowered head at the end of the oddly attractive groove of her curved back. Excited breaths played against his revealed skin.

He did not realize what was about to happen until it was too late.

In the silent room, the thwack of his manhood springing free might as well have been a thunderclap. The constraining pressure gone, it had flopped forwards, smacking Nyx’s face. Rather than recoil, however, the banshee simply froze. Her nostrils flared, taking in the scent. Her eyes crossed, putting an expression on her otherwise so aristocratic features that was equal parts amusing and deeply alluring.

Eldred’s cock throbbed on top of Nyx’s face, lifting from it as it pulsed to complete erection. Out of curiosity, he had once measured his length and put the, he reasoned normal, question of comparison into the internet. At 17 centimetres he was well above average and he had an inkling he was girthier than most as well, though he had never bothered to verify.

‘Quite glad I keep shaved,’ he thought, indulging in just how big his member looked against her face. A face that nuzzled up against his erection. One of her eyes was covered by his shaft, the other was half-lidded and glassy, her previously aroused look turning positively heated. She was drawing in air with both mouth and nose now, tasting his scent. The head dripped precum into her silky hair.

His hand found the back of her head. There was a part of him that warned him that it was perhaps unwise to risk cumming early when he had a lot to prove to himself and her. He silenced that part just like he had silenced the doubts of the gremlin: by asserting his newfound confidence utterly.

“You want to suck my cock…?” The drifting of his tone transformed an order into a question. Her visible blue eye flitted up to his face. She nodded, the mild movement felt against the sensitive underside. “Tongue out.”

The pink of her tongue contrasted nicely against the white of her skin and the black of her lips. Eldred did not understand what made her shudder when she weighed his testicles with the dextrous muscle, but he was very happy that she enjoyed herself. Was this what they meant when they said that men and women were made to complement one another or was this something more?

His hand guided her up, dragging her while stopping just short of pulling her hair. Languidly, she inched up his shaft. The delighted trembles became overt swings of her hips once she began to taste the coating of precum that had naturally occurred while he had been still clothed.

“You like that,” he asserted, as asking the obvious was unnecessary. “Good… so do I… let’s keep going… oh, yes…” The low rumble escaped his throat just as her mouth enveloped the engorged head of his cock. She stayed there, looking up at him for guidance. She wanted to do more but did not know what would make him feel good. “Try circling your tongue around it,” he encouraged her.

Obediently, she did. Slowly, at first, then with growing confidence, she practically worshipped the head of his cock. Despite this rapid adjustment, she did not dare move further until he prompted her to.

Pushing against the back of her head, he had her try to take in more of his cock. He was ready to yield his grip at the first sign of discomfort on her part. Obviously, he would tell her it was fine. He may have watched, read, and played plenty of porn in his time, but his expectations were not that distorted.

Nyx glided further and further down. He was impressed when she took in a third, confused when he effortlessly invaded her throat, in awe when she made it past the halfway point and simply slack-jawed when her pillowy lips formed a tight seal around the base of his cock.

“Fuck,” he pushed out, losing his newly found cool for the first time. His mind was spinning for a few seconds before he laughed. Obviously, she could deepthroat him. What use did a banshee have for a gag reflex? What need did she have to breathe, even, besides moving air over her vocal cords?

Nyx stayed exactly where she was, ass in the air, nose pushed against his abdomen, and she clearly enjoyed it. She clearly and physically enjoyed it. Eldred may have been… well, depending on definition, he now had been a virgin… but he recognised when eyelids fluttered out of pleasure. Were banshees one of the species born with such sensitive throats?

“Heavens and Hells… you are just a perfect comfort hole,” Eldred said, meaning it as the deepest of compliments. Nyx did not respond at all. She just kept gazing up at him, the black trails beneath her eyes making it appear like mascara had been smudged after prolonged facefucking.

If Eldred did not have a kink for blowjobs before, he did now.

It certainly helped that her throat was a tight sleeve. Now that he was past his initial surprise, he could sense all of the individual details. The initial chamber of her mouth and tongue, still pushing against his shaft with gentle rubs. The gateway to her throat, where the sensation suddenly narrowed into a yielding ridge. The rippling waves of her upper throat, brought about by the swallowing muscles shifting around him, and the increasing tightness of her lower throat. Eldred had never thought about the many individual details of being inside a woman, but it was just so… so much velvety pressure.

Guided by pure instinct, he pulled her head upwards. Lewd slurps accompanied every centimetre she reluctantly yielded back to the outside air. Nyx made no noise, showed no sign she was even conscious. That was hot in one way but bothersome in others – the latter impression won.

The driven man bent forwards, his other arm gliding over the swing of her ass. He would have preferred squeezing her tits, but that would have to wait. Her butt was a delightful second and only on the way to his true goal anyhow.

Eldred had considered her wet before. When he found her honeypot now, she was positively dripping. A simple brush of her clit was all it took for her to tremble. A little moan, muffled, more felt than heard, vibrated in her throat. “You like that? Let me hear it,” he encouraged her reaction. “Keep moaning, shout out your pleasure, I want to hear everything that makes you feel good.”

When he pushed her back down, the girth of his rod making her neck bulge once more, there was a quiet moan.

“Every cry is my reward,” he told her.

He pushed his middle finger into her tight slit, beginning his exploration of her womanhood properly. A delighted shout reverberated around his cock.

“That’s good,” he groaned.

Every encouragement had her grow a little louder. The louder she got, the more eager he was to continue. The more he continued, the louder she got. It was a positive feedback loop, continuing on until he reached the maximum of what his physical coordination was capable of.

Nyx’s head bobbed up and down, relinquishing and then getting a third of his cock stuffed back into her throat. He fingered her simultaneously, experiencing the fabled grip of a woman’s outer folds around his fingers. He stopped only to tease the button of her clit, unhooded by her own arousal. The mound of her womanhood was delectably jiggly as well, so swollen with lust.

He wanted to do more, to fuck her face properly, to finger her at a rapid pace, but for all of his enthusiasm, he was still new to this. The coordination between his arms wasn’t that good, his muscles reminded him that they weren’t trained for this long-term repetitive movement and in the end, he had to slow.

‘Perhaps for the best,’ he thought, taking the laming of his arms as the cue to end the foreplay, if this could still be called that, before he spilled his essence down her throat. Would that have worked as well? For the contract, probably, but he… he wanted to fuck this banshee until she wailed in ecstasy.

A wet pop. A longing gasp. Long strands of saliva and precum stretched between the head of the freed cock and Nyx’s lips and tongue. She tilted forwards, pressing a parting kiss on his balls, before he grabbed her by the arm. He tossed her on her back. It was rough manhandling, the kind that required **** confidence to enact on a woman. Eldred felt a bit closer to madness, his libido pulsing in his veins.

Nyx landed on her back. When he grabbed her legs next, she yielded quicker to his demands than he could physically push. Parted thighs laid bare her soaked cunt. He placed the tip of his cock against it and pushed. Her tightness rejected him, to their mutual groaning. “Relax. Breathe. Trust me,” Eldred repeated as many words as he was capable of in his aroused state.

“I trust you, Eldred,” she responded in demure, eager obedience. “Deflower me. I plead for your essence.”

That intonation made his cock throb again. Eldred had never been this hard in his life. Guiding his cock felt like guiding a veiny rod of iron. He aimed a little lower this time and pushed with as much patience as he retained. Triumphant was the sensation of parting her pink labia – triumphant and breath-robbing.

This time he was fully prepared to indulge in the progression of textures as he pushed into her. The entrance was a snug ring, keeping his girth gripped as he pushed deeper and deeper. He could feel her internal muscles shifting beyond that, massaging him as he pushed deeper into her smoother, enveloping depths. When he did stop, fully inside her, his head stopped just close enough to something firm to know it was there. Her cervix, most likely.

Eldred tilted forwards, overcome by the multitude of emotions, all of them wonderful, accompanying the loss of his virginity. Nyx’s back was arching again, his earlier ministrations had left her as close to the edge as him, it seemed. Her breasts were right beneath his lowered head, pulled taut by the curve of her chest.

Face to face with his favourite part of the female anatomy, there was only one thing to do.

Eldred latched onto one of her nipples. His tongue circled around the sensitive protrusion. Nyx cried aloud, finding her voice again. It was the breaking of every dam. Her arms and legs slung around Eldred, holding tightly onto him while he responded in kind.

They were a tight knot of limbs and lust, utterly ignorant of every absurdity that had led them to this exact second, only concerned with living out the reality of it. Her pussy walls gripped him. Her feet were crossed on the back of his hips. Her ass was dragged up by his rising motion. He plunged back into her and she moaned.

‘Not good enough,’ Eldred thought. He continued to indulge in the taste of her breasts. Even her skin had a note of mint to it, mixed with a distant aroma of pine needles. Everything about her drove him wild, awakened and deepened a primal need to care for, to please and to possess.

He plunged into her again, noting her moan, then changed the position of his knees slightly. A different angle, a different series of sensitive spots he pushed over, and a different, louder, response.

‘Not good enough,’ he thought again, gritting his teeth. Never before had he wanted this little to climax. This was not done for him, this was done for them and he was falling short of the standards he set for himself, while she had already shown him greater pleasures than he would have dared ask for.

His fingers sunk into the pliable curve of her ass. His lips relented from the worship of her gorgeously shaped breasts, kissing up to her neck instead. He adjusted her posture. He adjusted his posture. He fought against the clenching of her thighs and the grip of her cunt once again. He drove back down again.

The wail of the banshee made the ectoplasm in the room rattle.

“That’s it!” he grunted aloud, for him, for her, for no one. Then, he took every last ounce of strength he had and began to pound her.

The sudden rutting had Nyx scream over and over again, her melodic voice losing any hint of her deeply engraved loneliness until only ecstasy remained. The supernatural strength of her voice made the bedframe buzz. Eldred felt what was about to happen, but he continued to pound her anyway.

What had been held together by ectoplasm collapsed. The mattress dropped straight down, the rusty pieces of framing clattering to the ground. Broken or not, the bed fulfilled its purpose. The mattress was still there, the shape of the banshee’s back getting engraved into it with every repeated thrust.

“Ooooo----ohhhhhhh-h-h-h-h-hhhh!” Nyx’s pitch changed. Something was approaching. He felt it in her trembles. The grip of her cunt was different now, looser, while the rest of her body gripped him ever tighter. Her honey was overflowing now. Every time he impacted her ass and thighs, it was a wet clap in the room.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

Ceaselessly, Eldred made himself the conductor of that noise.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

He did not care how much his lungs burned or his bruises ached.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

This was what he was made to do: drive women like this over the edge.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

“Ellllllll… DREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED----!” Nyx screamed his name, then turned almost completely silent. All that came from her wide open mouth were choked groans. Primitive, airless sounds that accompanied the rolling up of her light blue eyes. Pussy juices squirted aggressively, breaking against where he joined with her. He could no longer move, the grip of her insides just too tight.

Then, with the **** of a blackpowder keg catching fire, he came as well.

Their simultaneous orgasm was everything he could have dreamed of and more. At the edge of exhaustion, at the pinnacle of success, his body felt light and alight. Molten pleasure poured through his veins and nervous system, making every part of him tense up. Tiny thrusts were all his body was still capable of, tightly held by Nyx’s legs and arms.

One spurt, two spurts, three spurts, four, five, six, each barely diminishing in intensity. Had he been of sound mind, he would have been concerned with just how hard and long he was climaxing. Instead, there was only ecstasy and the taste of Nyx’s breast. He gently bit her nipple as he came, indulging his baser instincts.

The tenth spurt was the final one. His orgasm cut off abruptly after that, his mind rapidly collapsing back down to earth. He laid on top of Nyx, her sweaty body pressed against his. With the last of his power, he rolled off her.

His eyelids were beyond heavy when he looked over at her. It did occur to him that he had just ejaculated easily thrice what he usually came into an undead seeking his essence. For all he knew, the exhaustion he felt right now was more than the physical consequence of those actions.

Witnessing Nyx’s expression, so cock drunk her black lips twitched upwards with every spasm of her aftershocks, however, Eldred had merely one thought about dying there.

‘This wouldn’t be such a bad way to go.’