Midnight

Her eyes were what I saw first.

They were pitch black, too dark to see, ex­cept for the glow­ing, yel­low rings in their cen­ters, rings that seemed to be fo­cused di­rect­ly on me. She slipped off the counter, and the si­lence with which she moved was eerie enough, though I could hear small swish­es and clicks in the si­lence of night­time. She stepped to­wards me, her eyes un­mov­ing, un­blink­ing, and I found I couldn’t look away.

I did not know if I was trans­fixed by hor­ror, beau­ty, or some strange machi­na­tion be­yond my un­der­stand­ing; I still do not know for sure. But as she grew clos­er, I be­gan to see the shape of her more clear­ly through the dark­ness, and I knew I was find­ing my­self in­creas­ing­ly con­fused, afraid, and aroused by the crea­ture stand­ing in front of me in my kitchen. I could not move, I could not run, I could not scream. Her hair was the most hu­man thing about her, bleached blonde, straight and long. It made for a sharp con­trast against her flaw­less skin, which was a smooth, mat­te, char­coal black. I was still strug­gling to make out the de­tails of her body in the dim light, but I could see strange horns curl­ing around her sil­hou­ette, two of them on each side of her head, just above her point­ed ears.

I have no shame in ad­mit­ting I did not stay fo­cused on her head for long, as I quick­ly found my­self much more pre­oc­cu­pied with her body. She was tall, curvy, and su­per­hu­man­ly bux­om, and not mere­ly due to the size of her bust. Sure, she was near­ly a foot taller than me, and sure, her hips were wide enough to over­flow all but the biggest and com­fi­est of chairs, but the strangest thing about her fig­ure was her chest. There is no del­i­cate way of putting it… she had four breasts. Her top pair was mas­sive, each hemi­sphere larg­er than her head, and they sat atop a small­er set that were still large by any stan­dard, even if they were half the size of their up­per twins. When she moved, all of them jig­gled slight­ly, and it crossed my mind that they must be im­mense­ly heavy, but she ex­hib­it­ed not a sin­gle sign of dis­com­fort or pain. If any­thing, she seemed to be smil­ing ear to ear, and her lips were plump and invit­ing. She was an alien, no doubt about it, and one I found un­can­ni­ly in­hu­man at that, yet as those thoughts raced through my head, I could feel my­self grow­ing moist be­tween my thighs.

The crea­ture be­fore me seemed to sense this de­vel­op­ing need, and she squeezed her breasts to­geth­er as if to tease. It was then that it dawned on me that she had four arms, her up­per pair of hands held up so I could see her claws, her low­er pair rub­bing her own nip­ples. I gasped aloud, but it was not out of fear, it was out of en­chant­ment. She had stepped for­ward once more, and the moon­light through the win­dow re­flect­ed on some­thing slick on the crea­ture’s wom­an­ly body: my eyes found noth­ing oth­er than a thick, juicy pussy. It was enor­mous, big enough for me to fit both my hands in­side with­out much ef­fort, and its cli­toris was swollen and big as a cher­ry. I stared at it. I didn’t know why my body was re­act­ing this way, but I was aroused enough to know she must be hav­ing some strange ef­fect on my mind, whether through pheromones or sim­ple se­duc­tion. What­ev­er the case, it was star­tling­ly ef­fec­tive… I want­ed to run away, but I also longed more than any­thing for her to just please touch me.

No soon­er had I thought the words than, with­out warn­ing, some­thing slith­ered around her hips: a tail. Its tip looked like an ar­row­head, thick, ser­rat­ed, and sharp, and the tail’s length was thick and mus­cu­lar. She moved it like any oth­er limb, and when she rubbed the flat side of its head against her clit, I had to ex­pend con­scious ef­fort to sup­press a whim­per. It was only when she point­ed its sharp point at me that I seemed to come to my sens­es, sud­den­ly over­come by a de­sire to turn and flee, but it was too late—she moved faster than any hu­man ever could, and be­fore I could move she was al­ready upon me, two of her arms pin­ning my wrists to the door, the oth­er two pressed against my stom­ach. She was strong, stronger than even her toned fig­ure had led me to be­lieve, and as her tail seemed to dance over my body, I was cer­tain she was go­ing to kill me. She raised its sharp tip, placed it against my stom­ach, and I closed my eyes in an­tic­i­pa­tion of the painful punc­ture that would sure­ly fol­low.

It nev­er came.

In­stead, there was a rip­ping sound, and my den­im shorts fell to the floor. I opened my eyes, and my mouth fell open to fi­nal­ly let loose a scream—her face was inch­es from mine, her fanged teeth vis­i­ble, her glow­ing eyes burn­ing into my reti­nas. Be­fore I could make a sound, she was upon me, though she wasn’t eat­ing me. She was kiss­ing me.

I do not know how long we kissed. All I knew was that mak­ing out with her felt bet­ter than any­one I had ever kissed in my life, and I didn’t want it to stop. It was elec­tri­fy­ing—my body re­laxed and my legs loos­ened for her, as I some­how knew she de­sired. She pressed her bulging pussy against my own, and our juices min­gled. She be­gan to grind against me, and I moaned into her mouth, tast­ing her with my tongue, feel­ing my body quiver in plea­sure. I want­ed to or­gasm, knew I should be or­gas­ming, but the cli­max I ex­pect­ed nev­er came. We might have kissed for hours, or we might have kissed for a few min­utes, but when she pulled away, it was like the sun had been ex­tin­guished. I felt cold, dazed, lost, and alone, and as I leaned against the door be­hind me, I felt cold droplets of drool drip out of my mouth onto my warm chest.

My chest. It felt strange. I stared down at my­self, and my cheeks turned pale as I gasped once more. My bo­som was big­ger than I had ever re­mem­bered it be­ing, and it seemed to be swelling larg­er be­fore my eyes. My right hand flew to the side of my head, and I could feel my ear, strange­ly long and ta­pered be­neath my fin­gers. “Oh my god,” I whis­pered, but the voice was not mine. It was deep. It was sexy. It was the voice of my dreams, a voice that seemed to res­onate at the same fre­quen­cy as my hot, needy snatch, and when I grabbed my tits out of pure lust and de­sire, my pussy prac­ti­cal­ly squirt­ed in ea­ger re­sponse.

I stretched my legs, and I could feel them chang­ing, buck­ling and re­shap­ing them­selves. I had not man­aged to get a good look at my as­sailant’s low­er body, but though the room was still dark as ever, I could sud­den­ly see her whole shape crys­tal clear. She wore no shoes, that was ob­vi­ous from the claws that tipped each toe, but some­how, she ap­peared to be wear­ing heels. Spikes jut­ted out of the bot­tom of each foot, sharp but re­mark­ably stur­dy, and I could feel my own feet chang­ing to match. My sharp toes burst through my boots, shred­ding them in the process, and I grabbed the sides of my head and wailed in plea­sured sen­sa­tions of pow­er. A tail thrashed its way out of my back­side, and I slashed at the door I had been lean­ing against, leav­ing a pair of deep gash­es form­ing a crude “X” in its wood pan­el­ing. I faced her, and I knew we now looked alike, our skin the same shade of slate, all of our eyes glow­ing as we stared at each oth­er with de­sire and mu­tu­al un­der­stand­ing. She stepped back to­wards me, but this time, I had no rea­son to re­sist as she plunged her glim­mer­ing tail deep in­side my sop­ping cunt, and I could feel my mus­cles tight­en around it out of in­stinct, coax­ing it deep­er, grin­ning at the feel­ing of tak­ing some­thing so sharp and dan­ger­ous in­side my body with­out fear. I grabbed her shoul­der with my up­per right arm and pulled her clos­er, and we rubbed our horns to­geth­er while she drove ever fur­ther in­side my wet­ness. I was one of her kind now.

Pow­er crack­led through my veins, and with her heat so close to mine, I re­al­ized I was no longer con­tent to be a pas­sive play­thing. It was my turn to en­joy my­self, and I pushed her against the counter and grinned as I drove my clawed hand into her pussy. She laughed in re­turn and threw me off into the op­pos­ing wall, caus­ing quite a crash and leav­ing a not-in­signif­i­cant dent. I didn’t mind. I pulled my­self to my feet and rushed at her again, this time throw­ing her against the ground stom­ach-first, plac­ing my right foot on her back and trac­ing her spine with my spiked heel while I thrust­ed my tail into her ass. She gasped and squirmed, per­haps a lit­tle sur­prised by my sud­den dis­play, but she re­spond­ed quick­ly, claw­ing her way to her feet and spin­ning my body into a four-armed hold, breath­ing down my neck as I felt her fangs press against my skin. I shiv­ered, licked my lips, then squirmed out of her grasp and lift­ed my­self onto the ta­ble, forc­ing her mouth onto my slick low­er lips. She did not re­sist my ob­vi­ous sug­ges­tion, and though her tongue was hard­ly a match for our tails, the sen­sa­tion of the warm, wet, sur­pris­ing­ly long ten­dril push­ing deep­er in­side me than any hu­man lover’s ever could made me squeal with im­pas­sioned ex­cite­ment.

Our night con­tin­ued like that for hours, fuck­ing each oth­er against any­thing and every­thing, and when we had very near­ly de­mol­ished the kitchen in our strug­gles for dom­i­nance, we moved into the liv­ing room and be­gan anew. Win­dows shat­tered, doors cracked, fur­ni­ture ex­plod­ed into dust and splin­ters, but to us, it was lit­tle more than play­ful rough­hous­ing. She pinned me with all four of my arms be­hind my back and tongued my ass, then I re­spond­ed by lift­ing her by her legs and dou­ble-fist­ing her pussy. We must have or­gasmed dozens, if not hun­dreds of times that night, and by the time we were fin­ished, the sun was vis­i­ble on the hori­zon, and the build­ing that I’d once called my home looked like the poor vic­tim of a blast site. It mat­tered not. She took me by the hands and gave them each a squeeze, and af­ter we’d brushed the rub­ble off our dark-skinned bod­ies, we calm­ly stepped out through the bro­ken win­dow and set off down the road. I wasn’t sure where she was tak­ing me. I wasn’t sure what my new pur­pose in life was to be, nor what was to be­come of my old one. For now, I had more im­por­tant things to think about. Dur­ing the night, we had spo­ken no more than a dozen words to one an­oth­er, but when she looked at me and smiled, I felt a warmth in my core that spread to my pussy and then to my fin­gers and toes. Some­how, I knew I could trust her com­plete­ly. I had been some­one dif­fer­ent not twelve hours be­fore, and deep in­side, I was still that same girl, but I was also some­body new, this strange lady’s new­born sis­ter, and we were go­ing to love each oth­er to the full ex­tent of our abil­i­ties.

And, as I had al­ready learned, that is quite a lot.