Welcome to Incubus Tales: A Thousand Words by Hushicho. In Noctemberg, it is always night. Dhiar, proprietor and gay incubus, welcomes you to Phantasies, a very special shop. Sensuality is more than just Dhiar’s stock in trade, it is his raison d’être. NSFW.
A new chapter appears every Thursdays. This week is Chapter Three.
3rd Night—Feel It
They had enjoyed drinks together at the club. The only thing left over was an empty beer bottle, rested on the counter beside the register. No need for fresh drinks. Their thirst had found other means.
It was cold outside. It was always fairly cool, being subterranean, but sometimes certain features of the city—and of course, stray magic residue—led to variation in temperature, however subtle. The most delightful thing about Noctemburg’s unique weather, in Dhiar’s mind, was the fact that it could and did rain, thanks to underground water sources and natural condensation. At certain times of the year, mist blanketed city streets like spun cotton. He felt like he was crawling in bedclothes, when he went out on those days.
There was snow, too, and ice. Even sometimes against the expectations of anyone, weather happened. As irrepressibly as inconvenient family members dropping by, it persisted. He suspected that it had not so much begun by the mysterious forces of nature as simply manifested due to massive conflicting sorceries.
Right then it had begun to rain, and when it rained in Noctemburg, it poured.
“Just in time!” Evvin laughed, looking out the tinted glass door to the street. “Wow. It’s really coming down.”
Something about narrowly missing the downpour excited Dhiar, even though it nagged at him with a little regret. He loved the rain, loved it with a passion. With a moment’s hesitation, and only that moment’s, he reached his hand out and laced his fingers in Evvin’s. No words passed between them. He pulled open the door, looked over his shoulder into the young man’s eyes, and tugged him out into the street, out from under the eaves, into the torrential pour of water.
Two sets of eyes met, electric, melting into each other’s vision. Suddenly they were so close, and then suddenly they had both closed their eyes, bodies together, soaking wet, sodden clothes clinging to their forms. Evvin could swear he felt a spark between their lips as they met, salty and sweet, from the rain and the remaining alcohol left over in their mouths. He tasted the robust flavour of fermented wheat, tempered by Incubus delights.
Their tongues met in the middle and wrestled for a moment, barely more than a twinkling. In Dhiar’s experience, less was always more in this respect. He had once coined the term ‘slug-wrestling’ to describe less capable kisses. With the scantest touch, sparing and rare, it became more exciting.
Not that he wasn’t amused by the earnest efforts of the inexperienced. Quite the opposite, their eagerness and fervour, that rare and intense heat, tickled him from the pit of his stomach. But everyone had to learn sometime, and so he eased them along the path of the skilled.
The lips first must massage, he decided, must explore each other and contact each other. Breath is shared and, in a way, life. One of the most intimate things was sharing breath, even a little. What other things could dive so deeply into one person, to emerge with a report from inside them? And so quickly, so easy to miss, like that often-mentioned thief in the night.
The teeth part. The tongue longs to explore, to lick the back of another set of teeth. It longs for the contact that it only ever receives from food and drink.
Amid the rushing of the water around and upon them, between them, they both moaned at the same time. Their eyes opened, and each looked upon the other’s face. The rain ate the sound, but the resonant vibrations remained. The vibrations, noises made, they could penetrate so deeply into another too.
Dhiar curled his hips forward, barely pressing his hips against Evvin’s, and then suddenly there came an audible cry, even above the downpour. He looked hastily down, hiding his eyes from the Incubus, and tried to mouth something too quiet. But Dhiar knew all too well what had happened. A puckish grin curled along his lips.
He didn’t have to have it happen inside his body, or against bare flesh. That it happened was reward enough for him. Reaching out again, he wrapped his fingers around Evvin’s wrist and led him back in, standing both of them on the wide welcome mat.
“Let’s get out of these wet clothes,” Dhiar suggested, reaching over to roll Evvin’s shirt up his body. “I wouldn’t want you to catch cold.”
Pale from the wetness and rose-tinted from his embarrassment, Evvin could only stand and do as he was positioned, losing his clothes above the waist quickly. He scrambled to keep his pants up as Dhiar’s fingers unfastened his buttons offhand.
“W-wait!” He stammered, clearing his throat and at last looking into Dhiar’s eyes again. “I… uh… I can explain…”
Dhiar leaned closer, his breath still warm and fresh, his eyes deep and clear. “No need,” he murmured in confidential tones. “I’m an Incubus. You lasted much longer than most, you know.”
“I… I did?”
“You did!” Dhiar batted the hands away and worked the clingy fabric down to Evvin’s ankles, then did the same with his transparent boxer shorts. The electric blue hid absolutely nothing. It might as well have been tissue paper. “Usually we meet in a bar or something like that, or a club, we get halfway home, then they get horny. The first real intimate touch, or the first kiss… they’ve lost it. It’s gone.” He flashed a toothy grin, tugging Evvin’s boots off and helping him to step out of the rest of his clothing.
“So… so it’s always that intense?”
“It’s a gift of mine,” Dhiar explained, reaching up to stroke the sensitive skin, carefully so he didn’t cause any discomfort. “I share with you the sensations that I feel, and the sensations that I feel from you. So it forms an intense feedback loop that can be extremely fulfilling and rewarding, but it does take some getting used to.”
Evvin could not help himself, as he felt his penis rise and fill. He leaned back against the cool glass of the door, a shiver coursing along his back. His lush buttocks pressed against the pane. Anyone walking by who could see through the heavy rain would get quite a show.
Dhiar harbored love in his eyes as he gazed before him, his fingers slowly rolling Evvin’s balls, from one to the other. “Just say when. We’ve got a nice, long, mouth-watering night ahead of us.”
* * *
About the author: From an early age, Hushicho held a special passion for storytelling. Throughout his life, he has worked in numerous media and various places in the world. He is the author of the long-running Incubus Tales webcomic, upon which this serial is based.
Welcome to the intriguing city of dreams, Noctemberg, where it is always night, and to Phantasies, a very special shop run by Dhiar, proprietor and gay incubus. Sensuality is more than just Dhiar's stock in trade, it is his raison d'etre. In Incubus Tales: A Thousand Words, Dhiar meets new loves, rekindles relationships, and bring his special brand of sexual healing to lovers and readers alike.
Also available in paperback!