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Not Going

Not Going
By TeraS


“I’m not going.”

“You are such a stick in the mud, Vicky. Honestly, get your nose out of your books and live a little! It wouldn’t kill you to have a good time.”

The argument was one that the two roommates had every year on Halloween since they were put together. Roxie was the wild girl: flame red hair, the kind of body that looked good in anything she wore, a personality that people gravitated to. Vicky was the book worm: chestnut hair, pale skin, never wanting to go out, happier to wear baggy clothes and hide behind Roxie’s stunning personality.

At this moment, Vicky was sitting on their couch, flipping through the television channels and looking for something to watch other than what seemed to be an endless stream of horror movies. Roxie was all dressed up for a Halloween party that was going on two floors above; she going for a devilish angel look as a whole. That did, Vicky had to admit, work, considering the green horns in her red hair, the white robes that almost looked like they were painted on her curves and the pair of fairly-decent looking angel wings that were strapped to her back.

She heard the sound of Roxie’s heels coming up from behind and then she caught Roxie’s scent—strawberries, no less: “Look, I’m not going. There’s nothing you can do to make me.”

The purr of Roxie’s voice against Vicky’s ear made her tremble: “It’s Halloween. Come on … please? I promise: when I’m done with you, no one will recognize you.”

Vicky shook her head: “No, Rox … Not gonna … I …”

The rest of Vicky’s words were lost as Roxie traced a fingernail against the nape of Roxie’s neck and purred: “Be a little naughty … please? I have your costume.”

A shiver came with: “Nnnoo, Rox. Don’t care. Don’t wanna.”

Vicky thought “That’s it, Roxie will back off,” when she heard the clicking of heels. But then Roxie walked around and blocked Vicky’s view of the television before taking the remote and turning it off. Leaning down to put the remote on the couch, she treated Vicky to a view down Roxie’s top, showing that she was completely naked underneath the robes.

“Okay! If you aren’t going to the party, then neither am I.”

Vicky blinked: “But … you’re all dressed up for it!”

Roxie smiled one of her thousand watt ones, her blue eyes sparkling: “This? Oh, this is nothing.”

Vicky started to answer, but Roxie put a single red tipped fingernail on Vicky’s lips: “See, what I want for my treat … is you.”

Vicky blinked again. Roxie wanted her? She thought about that as she looked towards Roxie’s smile and her lovely sky-blue eyes. She did have a crush on Roxie—had one for a long time, but never did anything with it. Mind you, the middle of the night pleasures she had thinking about cuddling with Roxie, nibbling her skin, spooning with her … those were the source of many hours of wonderfully hot little orgasms.

Vicky swallowed, and then put a hand on Roxie’s, moving it away: “What … What do you mean?”

Roxie stood up straight and flipped her hair over her shoulder: “I mean that, once a year, I can have a treat. I want you. All of you.”

Vicky didn’t know what to say and, as Roxie started to undo her robe, she found that she rapidly lost her train of thought, far more interested in what Rox had to say and what she was doing.

The robe loosened, then was pulled back over the redhead’s shoulders, revealing smooth, tanned skin, the straps of her angel wings now visible. “See, today is Halloween, but it is also an important day where I come from.”

Vicky knew that Roxie was from somewhere else. They never really talked about it, but she said it was a wonderful place and she was planning on going back there someday—something about being involved in the family business or something.

Again, Vicky’s thoughts were derailed as Roxie shimmied her hips and the robe fell off her shoulders and she caught the material just below her bosom, right above that sexy curve of her waist and that cute belly button that Vicky had dreamed of swirling her tongue around.

“We’re allowed, by our Queen, to pick the one thing we want on this day, and …”

Vicky drew her tongue over her lips as Roxie allowed the robe to fall over her hips and then pool about her red sky-high stripper heels. She felt the flush, she knew her skin was turning colour as she looked, for the first time, at Roxie in the nude. She was a dream. Vicky had fantasied about this moment, how Roxie would look, smell, taste, but seeing it all in the flesh took her breath away.

“… reveal ourselves to them. I’ve wanted you a long time, baby. I’ve dreamed about rubbing against you, licking you, caressing your skin.”

Vickie whispered: “I … I’ve wanted you. But … never thought you wanted me.”

Roxie slipped a finger underneath one of the straps holding her wings, tilting her head to the left as she did so: “I know. All you had to do was tell me that you wanted me, too. So many nights I have listened to you moan in your dreams, that look you have in the morning when we brush past each other. Goddess, Vickie … I could smell you.”

Somehow, learning that Roxie knew everything didn’t upset her. The trickle of arousal had now become a lava flow between her legs, and Vicky started to rub her thighs together, trying to distract herself, closing her eyes as she did. Roxie’s wings falling to the floor with a thump brought her attention back to where it should be: looking into Roxie’s eyes.

Roxie leaned forwards again, placing her hands on Vicky’s thighs, the touch making her quiver as goosebumps erupted over her skin. She felt Roxie’s fingernails scraping lightly on her thighs and then parting her legs gently. Vicky wished the she was naked … and then realized something …

… she was.

Roxie kept looking into Vicky’s eyes as she kneeled between her partner’s legs on the discarded and forgotten Halloween costume. Roxie was only wearing her red horns, and they were gleaming in the light.

“See … I have a secret, love. One you can be a part of.”

Vickie trembled as Roxie’s fingers moved up the inside of her thighs and then stroked highly over her now bare, wet, and open folds. Her voice was somewhere between a moaning, pleading, and need: “Wha– … Geez, Rox … Wha– …”

Roxie smiled and then she focused her attention away from Vicky’s eyes. As Roxie’s lips and tongue slithered over, into, and about, Vicky clutched at the couch, trying to hold onto something, but she couldn’t find anyplace to anchor. When the ersatz angel touched her clit, she thrashed about, melting in pleasure, her hands moving wildly before taking hold of Roxie’s horns…

… Roxie’s now larger, the-perfect-size-to-hold-onto-while-she-was-being-eaten-out, horns.

They didn’t move—they seemed to be attached to Roxie’s head—and when Vicky could finally look to see what was going on … well, that’s when she saw the long, green, heart-tipped tail, moving slowly behind her new lover. She following the tip down to where it met Roxie’s body, just above her sexy heart-shaped ass.

A thought came to Vicky: “That tail is real. The horns are real. But …”

Her thoughts were derailed by one of Roxie’s fingers slipping against her clit, teasing her. Vicky couldn’t move, didn’t want to, and, while she was experiencing everything she wanted in her dreams, Roxie’s voice continued to explain: “See … I’m one of the Succubi, and I want you.”

A lick—God …Goddess … whatever, her tongue was long. “You want me, too, so … you are my treat.”

Vicky felt one of Roxie’s hands moving up her waist, the succubi’s nails scratching lightly before she cupped a breast and then pinched the brunette’s nipple gently.

“Just say ‘yessss.’ That’s all you have to do.”

Vicky wanted this, so desperately so. She wanted to be entwined with her, be with her, needing her as much as Roxie needed her in return. The answer came from deep within, filled with need and want as much as passion and desire.

“Oh Gods, Rox! YES, please!”

Roxie purred like a cat that had a bowl of cream to enjoy as her tongue went back inside. The screams that came from their apartment throughout the night were luckily drowned out by the sounds of the party two floors above, the party that they never went to, for theirs was better.

As the old clock in the hallway chimed midnight, two lovers were laying on a soft rug between their television and their couch. One had horns and a tail, the other didn’t. One was titian, the other was a brunette. The one thing that was the same about them, however, was they were in love, their secrets now open to each other, and their fantasies made real on this day.

They weren’t going anywhere. They didn’t need to.

They had found each other on the Night of Souls.