He was in a room with two devils, one of which had his cock in her mouth.

Perversely, despite the demonic additions, Kate had a face and body that put most centerfolds to shame. Her boobs were D cups, or maybe larger, and firm and perky rather than sagging. Long lithe legs emerged from a luscious ass. She hadn't been wearing anything beneath her silk robe and now, with her naked body exposed to him, McCann's gaze kept gravitating to the smooth folds of her sex.

"Don't kill me. Please," he squeaked.

Kate's lips turned up in a smile. "Why ever would we do that?" she asked. "You're our client."

"I am." Another squeak.

"Mia, Mr. McCann seems a little agitated. You need to work harder on your technique."

Mia's working harder was to deepthroat him. McCann's breath hitched in his throat as he felt the warm membranes at the back of her mouth pinch around the head of his cock. That felt... nice.

"What do you want from me?" McCann asked fearfully. "My soul?"

Kate waved away his question with an elegant hand.

"Don't be so melodramatic," she said. "As succubi, the notion of empty romance offends us. It inhibits the pure expression of animal passions."

She glided over and lounged next to McCann on the overstuffed arm of the chair.

"You're still young and vital." She caressed his shoulder and slid her hand down to squeeze his bicep. "You should be having sex with any young woman-or man, should you desire to experiment-that takes your fancy. You shouldn't be trapped in a relationship where the spark has long extinguished."

"Uh, so that's why you have this agency," McCann asked. He kept a nervous eye on Mia as her head continued to bob up and down in his lap.

"Exactly!" Kate beamed wide enough to reveal a row of perfect teeth. Sexy... if the incisors hadn't been quite so long, or so pointed. "It's important to us. You might even consider it our sacred calling."

It did make a twisted kind of sense, McCann supposed. He relaxed a little as Mia continued to fellate him.

In the massage room Emma had moved on to squeezing and kneading Sharon's boobs in a way that was far removed from both innocence and professionalism. The masseuse's robes slipped away as she freed a pair of leathery red wings. Sharon didn't seem alarmed by the transformation. She looked completely under the devil girl's spell. She stared at the succubus with naked need in her eyes and nibbled on her lower lip.

"Emma is very adept with the ladies," Kate whispered in McCann's ear.

He could see that.

Emma's hand moved down to the mound of Sharon's sex. A finger slipped between the folds of his wife's sex and began to play. On the massage table Sharon's cheeks flushed red. She scrunched her eyes shut, arched her back and murmured in pleasure.

Emma inserted a second finger and pushed both in and out, then wiggled them from side to side. Sharon's mouth fell open and a loud sigh escaped. Her head tossed from side to side as her body writhed and squirmed.

He hadn't seen this side of his wife in a long time. Even though he knew it was dead, that he no longer felt any fondness for her, he still felt a pang of jealousy at seeing another woman taking her to the same heights of pleasure they'd abandoned years ago.

Sharon arched her back and held the pose for a few quivering moments. Then the tenseness fled her body and she settled back on the massage table. Emma withdrew her fingers from his wife's pussy and sucked on her fingertips. There was a confident little smile on her lips, as if she knew Sharon was hers now.

"Here we show up the cliche of 'high-school sweethearts forever' as the romantic nonsense it is. Monogamy is the unnatural state. Why deny yourself the many erotic pleasures available to you."

McCann found himself nodding in agreement.

"I don't see you wanting Mia to stop," Kate said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Nope, definitely not, McCann thought.

Mia did ease off on her blowjob, but only to push her body up higher and sandwich her soft boobs around his erection. She held them together with one arm while her other hand reached under and tickled the underside of his balls. She smiled as he quivered, and pursed her blowjob lips together to blow a warm stream of air across McCann's exposed glans.

"Mia is my best fluffer," Kate said, running a hand affectionately through the other girl's lustrous blonde hair. "She can keep a man at the threshold of climax without tipping him over for as long as she likes."

In the massage room Emma wasn't finished with his wife. Like Kate, the masseuse also had a long slender tail with a devil's point. She lifted up the end and waved it to Sharon with a suggestive smile on her lips. The end puffed out and the pointed tip became a blunt bulge. The tip took on a wet sheen as lubricating secretions oozed to the surface.

McCann saw what the end of the tail resembled. His wife saw it too. She gave Emma a nervous smile and nodded her head.

McCann was taken aback. He hadn't thought his wife that way inclined.

He sucked in a breath as Mia's warm mouth enveloped one of his testicles. Her long fingernails tickled down behind his balls and danced around his anus.

Emma rubbed the tip of her tail against his wife's tits. She gently boffed it against an erect nipple, then rubbed it down Sharon's side and over the slight bulge of her belly, leaving behind a glistening trail. She dragged it over the gentle incline that led to Sharon's sex. Again Emma shook the end, lightly tapping it against Sharon's mons. Sharon closed her eyes and opened her legs, throwing open her gates to let the devil in.

The devil wasn't in the mood to enter just yet. She ran the bloated tip, now resembling a fleshy red dildo, along the groove of Sharon's sex. The swollen end dipped down and stretched the pink folds of Sharon's labia wider. Not entering, not yet, just gently probing the entrance. A little prod, just enough to cause his wife's mouth to open in a little gasp of pleasure. She tensed and rocked back against the stiff object, trying to push it deeper within her. Emma's lips curled up in a teasing smile. She moved with Sharon, keeping her tail tantalizingly at the entrance to Sharon's sex. Then she relented and started to probe a little deeper. Her bulging tail pushed deeper between the folds of Sharon's sex. McCann's wife fell back and another, louder, gasp of pleasure slipped from her lips. The succubus teased her with more experimental probes, each deeper than the last, until finally, smoothly, she inserted the tip of her tail all the way in. Sharon shut her eyes and let out a long sigh of satisfaction. It was a face McCann hadn't seen in a very long time.

"You see now," Kate said. "All passion is fleeting. It never lasts. You no longer satisfy her as she no longer satisfies you. It was never meant to be forever."

Mia pursed her soft lips around his dribbling glans and sucked him in like a delectable morsel from an expensive meal. He felt her cheeks work in and out as she sucked on the end. He squirmed in the chair, his balls so frustratingly close, but still short of the trigger that would cause them to fire.

In the soundproofed room Emma had climbed up onto the massage table and was using her tail to vigorously fuck McCann's wife. His wife thrashed and moaned on top of the table. Her body clenched and a thin layer of white froth lined her labia. She gave another loud moan and her body clenched again.

"What do you know about succubi, Mr. McCann?" Kate asked, her tone suddenly serious.

"Um... sexy devil girls that tempt men," McCann replied.

He was having difficulty concentrating. Mia's warm tongue had enfolded the swollen helmet of his erection and was wriggling in a highly arousing way.

"We're a type of vampire," Kate said. "Only we feed off sex rather than blood. Like vampires, if we take too much we can kill our lovers. What many don't realize is we can feed off women just as easily as men."

Emma kneeled on the massage table. Her sensual eyes were half-closed in bliss. Her tail pulsed obscenely between his wife's legs while Sharon thrashed and writhed, helplessly lost to climax.

"Emma is feeding on your wife. In a moment she will begin to drain her in earnest."

Emma closed her eyes. Her tail seemed to swell between his wife's legs. Sharon weakly pushed back with her hips. It looked like Emma had taken on some color while his wife had lost some of hers.

Mia continued to bob her head in his lap. He heard soft murmurings as she noisily sucked and slurped on his cock.

"Your wife will die and you will be free," Kate whispered in his ear, "but only if you wish it. We are not monsters. If you change your mind we'll let the both of you walk out of here with no ill effects."

Emma's tail pulsed again, causing his wife to twitch in pleasure. It looked like she was aging before his eyes. Little wrinkles dimpled her brow and the first signs of crow's feet appeared at the corners of her eyes.

Mia's head bobbed up and down in his lap. Lips soft like silk brushed up the length of his shaft, meeting at the top in an erotic kiss before parting to take in his whole length again.

"You can still stop this," Kate purred in his ear. "What will it be, Mr. McCann? Do you still feel anything for your wife?"

McCann looked at Sharon. He tried to recall happier times. He tried to remember the time when they'd been dating back in high school, back when he'd thought she was the best-no, the only thing in his life.

There was nothing there. He saw the moments, but only as though he was a disinterested observer glimpsing scenes from another person's life.

Emma's eyes opened. She stared down at Sharon. The devil girl's tail wormed deeper and expanded. Emma moved it in and out in little rhythmic tugs while Sharon moaned and sighed in ecstasy beneath her. The tail was a sponge-soaking up Sharon's life even as it took her to climax after climax.

McCann watched his wife die.

He watched her skin wrinkle as she aged rapidly before him, watched as she passed beyond age, beyond death, beyond decay even as her still-climaxing body shriveled, dried up and mummified right before his eyes. Only then, with a satisfied sigh, did Emma withdraw her bloated tail.

He felt nothing.

Mia stopped fellating him and moved out of the way to let Kate climb into the chair and straddle him. Her exotically beautiful face and the luscious curves of her naked breasts filled his vision.

"Now you know for certain," she whispered huskily to him. "It was never meant to be. Now you can let go and begin anew."

She lowered her hips and McCann's erection was drawn up into the deepest, darkest well between her legs. He lost himself in her heat and softness. Her vagina was a tight passage that kissed the whole of his length like a tender mouth. Kissed, squeezed and sucked. He was unresisting as her elegant hands undid his shirt and her long nails tickled through the hairs on his chest. She moved up and down on him and he was transfixed by the swaying globes of her boobs. He lost track of time as her vagina enveloped his cock in a snug embrace.

A boy crying caught his attention.

Is that you, Alvin? What are you crying about, Sport?

He turned his head and saw Mia and another girl-the babysitter, he realized, the one with a peach of an ass-over by the bar and looking down at something beneath his field of vision. Their eyes gleamed with unnatural hunger. They parted full lips to reveal sharp pointed fangs.

McCann's brow creased. What was the babysitter doing here? If she was here then who was looking after Alvin?

Kate put her soft hands on either side of his head and turned it back until he was looking up at her beautiful face. Her black eyes were tunnels into absolute darkness. They sucked in McCann's gaze like sinkholes.

"All ties must be severed for you to begin anew," she said.

She lowered her soft lips onto his for a long, sensual kiss. He caught her breath. It smelt like flowers at a funeral home.

The crying stopped.

Abruptly.

Kate ended the kiss and the soft cushions of her lips moved along the line of his jaw before dipping down to nuzzle at his neck.

He turned his head. Mia and the other girl's eyes were half-closed as if savoring a delicious dish. Blood stained their mouths and chins. The red stood out against the porcelain-white paleness of their skin.

Kate's hands, soft but forceful, turned his head back to look at her. Her full lips formed a seductive pout. Her hips rose up and down with sinuous movements. He felt the soft walls of her sex clench around him and finally McCann was tipped over the threshold Mia's skilled mouth had held him at for so long. He erupted in an orgasm so shattering all the intimate moments he'd spent with Sharon-even the early ones-were blasted away like pale wisps.

It was all flowing away from him. He was emptying out, pouring himself out into her darkness, pouring out as he tried to fill a vast cold emptiness that could never be filled, pouring out until that emptiness stole inside him and took root inside his heart, his mind, and the remnants of his soul.

The same darkness consumed his memories. He was cast out of a side door. He sat in the trash of the alley with his head in his hands-a wretch in a suit.

There was a business card inserted between his fingers. He stared at it dumbly. They'd done something for him. Something he'd wanted.

Then why did it feel like a vital part of him had been torn out?

"You okay there, buddy?"

McCann looked up. Finally his misfiring memory was able to give him a name and a face. It was his best bud, Jimmy, leaning over the front passenger seat of his car.

"Get in."

McCann stood up and got into the car.

"It's the same for everyone," Jimmy said, "always hurts at first. You'll get over it."

McCann did. Jimmy helped. He took him to the bars, the casinos, all the best parties. Now McCann was the man about town with a different sexy chick on his arm every night. Well, not every night, but often enough for life to be good, and life was very good indeed. He was free. No chains, no dead high-school romances tying him down. Life was a well-lit strip rolling into the distance with a different pretty girl waiting for him in every doorway.

And he lived happily ever after.

The end.

Only it never is...

A Special Tube of Lube The knock on the door came at a little past three on an unexceptional Thursday afternoon. Larry Allen was lounging around upstairs in his underwear when he heard it. He threw on a T-shirt and pair of jeans and rushed downstairs to answer it. It could be anyone-Jehovah's Witnesses, door-to-door salesmen, the stupid brat from next door asking if he could fetch his ball back. Larry couldn't exactly answer the door in a dressing gown and manky grey boxers.

Unless it was Jehovah's Witnesses. Then it would probably be worth it for the shits and giggles.

It wasn't Jehovah's Witnesses, not unless they'd taken to drawing their new recruits from the local Spearmint Rhino. Which wouldn't be a bad strategy, come to think of it.

There were two statuesque young women standing on Larry's doorstep. One was blonde, the other brunette. They were dressed down in casual clothes, but both had the figures and faces of girls that turned heads. The brunette was carrying a folded-up massage table. The blonde had a bag under her arm that was too large to be a handbag and looked more like what you'd get if Louis Vuitton designed doctor's bags.

Larry didn't seem surprised at their presence on his doorstep. That was because he was expecting them.

He motioned them inside and lingered in the doorway for a moment while he glanced furtively around the street to see if anyone had noticed their arrival. Larry had a nice little house on a quiet cul-de-sac in suburban dullsville. At this time of day it was like a ghost town. To live in a nice area like this wasn't cheap. It required both partners to be relatively affluent professionals and that meant navigating the clogged-up suburban rat races into town every morning and evening.

Unless they were fortunate enough, like Larry, to have special arrangements.

He saw a curtain twitch in the windows of number 16 across the road.

Or have a fat pension pot from your husband embezzling the company he'd driven into the ground.

That would be Andrea Blonigan. Larry didn't care much for her. Nancy hated that batty old cow even more than he did. The chances of his fiancee learning-and believing-what he got up to this afternoon from Mrs Blonigan were about the same as the Earth falling victim to a catastrophic meteor strike.

Satisfied there was no-one around to witness his guests' arrival, Larry closed the front door.

"You found it okay, then?" he asked.

"Yes, your directions were most helpful," the blonde girl replied.

Larry assumed Erica was Swedish even though he'd never asked. She didn't have a recognisable accent as such, but she spoke in the precise manner of someone fluent in a language that wasn't their mother tongue. And there was also that whole thing of being blonde, six foot plus and having a rack you could rest a pint on. The pink cashmere sweater she was wearing was baggy enough to downplay rather than accentuate her natural curves. It was probably deliberate. Dressed in something racier Erica wouldn't just turn heads, she'd twist them off like bottle tops.

Her friend could have been a carbon copy, except with chestnut-brown hair rather than blonde.

"This is Eunice, the friend I was telling you about," Erica introduced.

"Lovely to meet you," Larry said. "I'm Larry."