Dead Gorgeous (Gay Halloween Paranormal Short Story)
Page 2
The shock that such a creature spoke like this stunned me, but, as I say, what the fuck? I slipped my hands round to his arse and took a firm grip of his buttocks. And then I went for it.
I felt him nearing, felt him bucking like a wild beast. He thrust so deep it hurt the back of my throat. I gagged, fought for breath, snot bubbled in my nose. My palms felt itchy and I scratched them against his skin, but now his arse had grown hair, coarse and matted like that of a wild animal. I looked up, unable to uncouple as he drove his massive cock into my throat and he held me tight by my hair. I wanted to run, but couldn’t. His smile had become a leer in a Satanic mask, his chest a mat of thick hair that crawled with life. The gentle glow had turned to a fiery red, his body now not cold as death but hot as the sun. My ears hummed with the beating of his wings, and at the limits of my vision they appeared no more white and pure as a dove’s but black and sinister as a raven’s. He let out a roar and my throat and mouth burned with scalding seed. I gagged and struggled, but loved the taste that set my spirit alight.
I closed my eyes against the discomfort and only opened them again once he’d withdrawn completely. The demon had gone. Once more the angel towered over me, his beatific smile framed by full, innocent lips.
“It is time for me to go, Rick,” he said, covering his drooping cock with his robe, his white wings fanning the air behind him.
“Must you?” He didn’t answer, just lowered his eyes as if shy. “Can I see you again?”
“You know where to find me.”
And with that he was gone, and I knelt there among the dust and the strobe lights and the cacophony of hideous music.
Max stayed over after the party, pissed off with me for not joining in and not having fun. Little did he know, and I was certainly not going to tell him. He claimed not to have shot his load once all night and wanted to have sex with me (up until that point we had still engaged in the odd casual shag when desperate) but I refused and pissed him off even more. After breakfast the next day I sent him home, glad to be rid of him, and went for a walk to the end of the street. When I reached the church it had been surrounded by a wire fence. Jesus, someone had been up early. Builder’s trucks came and went with materials, and I walked across to a guy in a hard hat who was fixing signs to the fence.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Work starts today,” he said, two galvanized nails gripped between his teeth.
“Fuck, that was quick.”
“Nah, not really. Been set up for ages. We should have started last month but got held up.” He fixed the last of his signs, lifted his hat to scratch his head and smiled. “Should all be finished by Easter. Nice flats they’re going to be.”
“Right.”
“See ya, mate.” He sat his hat back on his head and went in pursuit of a van that had just driven by.
I looked at the signs. One gave the estate agent’s details handling the sales and I realised their office was just around the corner. Why not? No harm in enquiring.
Five minutes later I sat in a plush office before a spotty teenager in a cheap suit, the sales manager of the branch. He laid the plans out on his desk and pointed to each as he described every apartment in inane estate agent jargon. “’Course, the best one’s the organ loft. Here.” He jabbed a finger at the appropriate plan. “‘Aint the biggest, but it’s got character. No what I mean?”
I nodded. “If it’s the best, how come it hasn’t sold when others have already?”
He leaned back in his ergonomic chair and put his hands behind his head. “I don’t go for it myself,” he said, “all this supernatural stuff, but we ‘ave to tell all prospective purchasers that this particular flat is supposed – I say supposed – to be haunted.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He leaned forward confidentially. “Some bloke who worked on the organ got crushed by a statue or something and now he walks the gallery as an angel. Load of crap if you ask me, and I’m sure it won’t put an intelligent gent like you off, will it?”
I felt a smile spread across my face and I put my hand into my pocket to feel the black feather I’d found there that morning. “No,” I said after a pause. “Not at all. I’ll take it.”
~ FIN ~
If you enjoyed this short story you might like these others by Daniel deLoite:-
Cocks and Cars
Dick
Brief Encounters
CUMPILATON
Daniel’s stories are available from Amazon
If you can’t wait for Daniel’s next publication, he recommends you try these authors whom he has enjoyed:
Tristram La Roche
Kiran Hunter
Erastes
James Lear
Rupert Smith