She closed her eyes in bliss as she felt him spurt deep within her. With each spurt, her purrs got louder until it turned into growls. She turned her head down and moved her lips closer to his. Closer and closer she got, breathing in his scent, smelling the sweet aroma of the delicacy she'll be devouring. She oh so loved a well-cooked meal. Then their lips connect. The Half-Lilin Chapter 6 by Shin Eris

---

 
From last chapter:

 

 
Chapter 6
 
She closed her eyes in bliss as she felt him spurt deep within her. With each spurt, her purrs got louder until it turned into growls. She turned her head down and moved her lips closer to his. Closer and closer she got, breathing in his scent, smelling the sweet aroma of the delicacy she'll be devouring. She oh so loved a well-cooked meal.

Then their lips connect.

She began to nudge his lips open with her tongue. He relented easily.

As she cradled his head and fastened her lips on his, her tongue playing wildly at the entrance of his mouth.

Then she sucked. Hard.

She sucked in every living breath, every trace of conciousness and every little bit of energy from within him into her devouring maw. She sucked and sucked, neither caring for the flailing arms that tried to dislodge her from his body nor the leg that tried to knee her away.

Shortly after, she felt the essence reduced to a trickle. She oh so wanted to continue feeding, he was so delicious, but caught herself and sat straight on his pelvis. She berated herself on almost killing her meal, as it was a promise from ancient times of glories past that her kind will not kill their food.

Mother wouldn't be too happy if she found out I almost broke her promise to King Nimrod, she thought.

She got off his body and laid down next to him. She rubbed her full but not so bloated belly, recalling his taste and how good it felt as he spurted his seed into her. She looked into his sleeping face and felt a bit of regret that she couldn't mark him, as his body resisted all her attempts to mark him as her own little restaurant. She didn't mind all that much though, she had already consumed enough that she felt like she could go for days without breakfast, or lunch, or even dinner.

Maybe I'll make a pact with him later, she thought dreamily.

She snuggled into his almost lifeless form. Drinking in the delicious scent of his aura. She knew it was taboo to be lying next to her food after meals, but she decided that she would ignore that particular norm just this once.

She was shocked by the arm that suddenly draped itself around her torso.

“God, you totally drained me just now,” he growled softly, ”I don't think I've ever been so drained my entire life”.

“How can you still be able to speak? I'm pretty sure I sucked you dry,” she replied as she looked up at his face.

“You sure did, doll. You almost sent me to heaven just now.”

“I assure you, I have no intention of sending you to heaven nor anywhere close enough to heaven. Now how exactly are you not half-dead? Do you have some kind of energy reservoir within you?”

“Woah, these things are real. I thought they're just props. I thought you're just a kinky little slut.”

She purred, “Hey, don't rub my wings, “ gasped , “and no playing with my tail, either”.

“Is this your true form? I always knew there was something weird about you.”

She slapped his hands away, “You still haven't answered my questions”.

“Hey, I love your horns. It swirls around above your ears like a pair of ram's horns. Makes you look cute as hell”. He proceeded to test if those were real as well.

She slapped his hand away as his other hand rubbed the base of her wings, “Were you even listening to me? Just who are you? And stop playing with my... ooh... don't touch that!”

He squeezed her buttocks at that point, as if making a statement. “Why, you've known me your entire life, Pat.”

And in that particular moment, I became her and she became me as our cries echo from deep within our souls.

-----

I woke up screaming bloody murder this morning. Talk about nightmares. I thought this qualified as the worst nightmare I've ever had. It was bad enough that he was in my dream, to have sex with him, even in a dream was the most terrible thing. I didn't think there was even a word in existence to describe my loathing and disgust over the whole affair.

I opened the bedside drawer and threw my bottle of anti-psychotic pills away. I wasn't sure if it was the culprit, but I needed to blame something. I still wasn't feeling any better though. I banged my head to the wall, until I couldn't stand the pain.

The memories were still vivid in my brain.

Now I got a freaking headache as well.

I concluded that it was obviously an extremely dumb thing to do. Now I had to find an aspirin in my tortured state. Not a very easy thing to do when you were clutching your head in agony with one eye closed.

I spent quite a long time under the shower, trying to get rid of the burning pain in my brain. It took me about half an hour just to get a shred of sanity. It took me 10 minutes to be able to get out of the shower without tripping over my own feet, 5 minutes to find a comb and about 20 minutes to get dressed since I only used one hand and one eye to do those. The other eye was closed in pain while the other hand was too busy massaging my poor head.

Damn! What I am going to do with my hair? I forgot to cut it yesterday.

-----

I arrived at the office almost 5 minutes late, again. Had to struggle with making a ponytail as I found out that all the scissors in my house were blunt! What the hell?!!

If this ‘coming late to work’ thingy keeps up though, I might end up being on the shortlist for the next downsizing. I hoped Mr. Stuart didn't take any special notice of this.

It took me a few extra minutes to settle down in my cubicle. It appeared that the IT division, the server room especially, was pretty busy today. People were walking back and forth just outside my cubicle as if we were at war or something. I wondered if someone important was coming.

I went out to visit the cubicle next to mine, the one occupied by Steve Candle. Normally I wouldn't really speak to this burly, muscly, macho and obviously full-of-himself guy, but today was an exception I guess. He still gave me the creeps though, and the weird way he looked at me this morning as I walked into the lounge really wasn't helping.

I knocked on the partition that separated our cubicles. “Hey Steve, you know what's going on in this office?”

He just stared at me. An expression of puzzlement ran on his face, or was that confusion?

His stare was getting me very uncomfortable, so I knocked on the partition again and called him in a louder voice, despite the fact that he was only a few feet away from me. “Yo Stevie, dude, hello?”

I knocked a bit harder.

He looked like he was awakened from a journey somewhere far away as he coughed and regained his composure. “I'm sorry, do I know you?”

Now it was my turn to be confused. The only difference was that I was confused and starting to panic. This was starting to sound like a scene out of Twilight Zone, the one where you suddenly woke up one day and found out that you were lost in some parallel universe of which you weren't supposed to exist in.

“Umm, I'm Patrick Willows. I work in this cubicle over here,” I said as I nervously pointed to my cubicle, which as I've said before, was right next to his.

Now his face turned into one of astonishment. “Ricky? God Damn, did you do a hair extension or something? I'm pretty sure your hair wasn't as long as this yesterday. Hell, the only person in this department with a hair longer than you, is Mr. Stuart's wife, and she doesn't even work here.”

He turned around looking back at his flatscreen monitor, mumbling incoherent words. I did catch a few disconnected words though, such as 'pity', 'damn' and I think he mentioned the name of a french dish.

My voice raised a pitch, “Steve! I'm asking you if you know what the friggin’ hell's happening here. Why is everyone being busy out of a sudden?”

He turned around, looking at me with a raised eyebrow as if saying, ‘you incompetent slowpoke’. It wasn’t just my imagination; I’ve heard him call some people that in the open, especially when he was the project manager.

“You don't know what day this is?”

“Tuesday,” I answered, in a matter of factly tone.

He spoke slowly, as if talking to a child, “Do you know what's so special about this particular Wednesday?”

Was there anything special today? I must've missed a memo.

He must've noticed my confused expression as he answered his own question for me, “Today, is 20th of December”.

“Uhh, yeah, I knew that. So what's the big deal?”

He spoke even slower this time, “You know... Christmas is in... a few more days?”

“Look, I'm not dumb. You don't need to treat me like I'm a child. I can understand you perfectly no matter what speed you choose to say it. I know Christmas is approaching, but what's the big deal? I'm very sure that Santa will not drop down of our chimney and give us all presents for being good boys and girls. So please, GET STRAIGHT TO THE POINT!”

“We don't have a chimney.”

“Oh great, now you're being sarcastic.”

“Okay, you know that Christmas is coming?”

“Yes.”

“You know that I've always wanted a Porche?”

“No, and there's no chance in hell that me or anyone else will give it to you as a Christmas present.”

“Tough.”

“So what is this about?”

“You know Mr. Stuart will be spending Christmas in Switzerland?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know that the office will be closed from the 21st to 1st January?

“Now that news to me. When did he say this?”

“About 13 minutes ago. Everyone's urged to finish their work before Christmas holidays or they won't be getting any end of year bonus.”

“Well, that's a revelation. Thank goodness I've already finished all of mine.”

-----

It was almost lunchtime. The hectic-ness of the day had slowed to a trickle. Most of the people from my department decided to take advantage of the looser rules today to get lunch earlier. So there was only me and one or two other guys in the office.

I was chatting with Sue about her Christmas plans when I sensed an ominous presence behind me. I didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. I've had years to remember the aura of the sinister character behind me.

So it didn't surprise me when he said, “Pat, we need to talk”.

I turned my chair, ready to launch an assault with my venomous tongue when I saw him holding his right palm upwards in front of me.

I thought he was awfully nice to offer, so I place the wrapper for the coffee candy I just ate onto his palm. At least it would save me a trip to the trashcan. Apparently the cleaners forgot to put my dustbin back into my cubicle when they did the cleaning yesterday.

He responded by throwing the wrapper back at me, which flew away from me since it was just a thin sheet of plastic candy wrapper.

“You know, littering is frowned upon in this office.”

He totally ignored me. Instead, he said, “Let's talk reparations”.

I raised my right eyebrow, briefly wondering if he was on pot.

He walked closer to me, and ended up trapping me between him and my chair. He placed his hands on mine, effectively pinning me to my chair. I tried to struggle and pull out my hands from under his but failed. Man, this guy has a really strong grip.

“Hey, let go. What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“I want to make sure that you won't be going anywhere. We're going to settle this right here.”

“Settle what, dumbass? I don't remember maiming that psychotic brain of yours, though I did entertain the thoughts of driving a hockey stick up your behind.”

“Oh, you liked that, didn't you? You were moaning so loudly when I did that.”

I decided that he was definitely on pot, “Excuse me, as far as I know, it was my left leg that got beaten with a hockey stick. I don't remember your hockey stick getting anywhere near my butt when that happened”.

“Don't change the subject. I'm talking about this morning, in my house, on my bed.”

Well, what do ya know, the head-banging worked. I totally forgot about that dream until he mentioned his bed. I still thought that he was on pot though. Seriously, his wet dreams were none of my business.

Feigning ignorance, I said, “I'm... sorry, I don't think I know what you're talking about. Hey hey, watch it. You're gripping me too tight.”

“Don't play dumb. I knew it was you back there. Have you forgotten how you teased Mr. Happy with your tail or suck my breath out that you almost killed me?”

I was dumbstruck and it must've showed, because he continued with, “Hah! Can't deny it anymore, huh? It was you there this morning as well as yesterday. I knew it from the start”.

What did this mean? Did our dreams somehow got connected and we ended up sharing the same dreams? Which force in the universe would do such a disgusting thing?

“Now that we've accomplished that it was indeed you back there, let's talk about reparations”.

I was woken from my thoughts the moment I heard the word 'reparations'.

“What reparations? How was it my fault that you ended up breaking your bed while you're having a wet dream?”

He looked at me closely, as if studying my face. It felt really uncomfortable so I moved my face to the side, breaking eye contact. “I couldn't tell for sure whether you're just denying it or you really didn't know.”

I tried again to release my hands as it was starting to get sweaty and achy. His grip, coupled with many pounds of body weight pushing down on my hands worked really well at binding me to my chair. “Know what?”

“About you blowing up my windows?”

“Which window?”

“All of them.”

“So your house got vandalized in the middle of the night. What made you think it was me doing it?”

He studied me again. I thought I could grow to hate that gaze as well. “It was no vandal, you did it.”

“How can you be so sure that it was me?”

“Because all the glasses broke the moment you started screaming with that god-awful pitch. I thought I must've blown an eardrum.”

“Good, you deserve it.” So it actually happened in reality. I thought it was just nothing more than a wet dream. So did this mean that all those guys I fed from, were real people? I didn’t remember breaking the windows though.

“I had a hell of a time cleaning the mess you made. Eventually I gave up and hired a maid service to clean up the house. Do you know how much that cost me? I haven't even started calculating the cost of replacing all the glasses in the house and on the windows.”

“So what do you want me to do? If you're looking for me to pay for the replacements, then forget it. I don't do charity.”

“Oh, I'm sure we can arrange something. You know, something like, having you coming back to my house tonight? In full demonic disguise, of course. I think it's pretty kinky.”

OK, that's it.

I kicked him in the nuts. Hard. That released me from his grip as he needed his hands to cover his genitals. He fell hard to the floor clutching his family jewels. I added a few extra kicks on the butt for good measure.

“Get off my case, creep. And stop acting all gay around me. I am NOT going to put up with anymore crap from you.”

I got out of my cubicle and ran for the safety of the accounting department. I hope Sue hadn't left for lunch yet. He wouldn't do anything with other people around.

Pity, he was really good in the sack.

Huh? Where did that thought came from?

-----

“So your sister will be coming today?” Sue enquired as she played with her glass of orange juice.

“Yeah, she'll arrive late this evening.” I answered, wondering when my drinks will arrive.

Liz Manning, the sexy redhead with a tight body and in an almost equally tight clothing interjected, “I didn't know you had a sister. Is she cute?”

Have I mentioned that Liz was bisexual?

“It would be weird if I tell everyone I met that I got a sister, wouldn't it? Besides, you asked the wrong person. Brothers don't see their sisters in that way.”

“Why not? I think my older brother Matt was hot!” she replied with a grin.

I just stared at her, eyes wide, “You're... weird”.

Thank goodness my drinks finally arrive. At least I can be spared from having idle hands.

Sue moved her lips closer to Liz's ears, and whispered in a loud voice, which didn't sound like a whisper at all, “His sister's really hot. She has golden blonde hair, cute face and her legs go on forever. I'd say she's supermodel material. I'm sure you'd simply adore her.”

“Sue! Don't talk about my sister that way.”

Sue took a sip from her glass, “Oh, don't be such a prude, Patty. You can't be her protector forever.”

“I'm not trying to be her protector. She can take care of herself. Besides, we didn't really get along in the first place.”

Tammy Fielding, a small, timid and shy girl who barely spoke a word since we arrived exclaimed, “Food!”

Tammy's meal was the same as mine, which was the deluxe lunch set.

Liz laughed, “I can't understand how you can manage to put all those inside your little tummy. I can't even fit half of yours inside mine.”

“You think that's a lot? Wait till you had one of Sue's dinners. You probably won't last 5 minutes,” I said between mouthfuls.

“Been there once, no more,” Liz said, putting her hands up in surrender.

Sue pouted, “You don't like my cooking? Fine, I won't bother inviting you guys again.”

Liz consoled her as she hugged her softly, “Don't be like that, girl. It's not that we don't like your cooking. It's just that the meals you cooked were too much. Imagine what it will do to my gorgeous figure.”

We laughed as she removed her hands to cup her impressive breasts.

“I don't think anyone would mind if that particular part gets fatter, dear Lizzy.” I said as I imagined her bosom getting larger as if pumped like a balloon.

Liz grinned, squeezing her pillowy flesh, “Speak for yourself. I had backaches because of these puppies”.

I laughed even harder.

“I don't even have breasts to worry about that,” I said as I patted my chest.

Tammy admonished in a whispering voice, “Liz, put your hands down. It's embarrassing, you know?”

“Chill, Tam. Liz's a common slut, she has no shame,” I said as I patted her back.

Liz raised her nose at that, “I resent that. I'm not a common slut. I'm a choosy slut and proud of it”.

Tammy sighs, as she looked at Liz with a facial expression that said, how did I became friends with these people?

Just then, a commercial featuring the beautiful Stephanie Mills appeared on the tube. She was promoting a skincare product, which I didn't believe for a second she used or even needed. She was also ambassador for many different beauty products. I couldn't even go to the loo in a mall without seeing her face in posters promoting a new movie, a makeup brand or a skincare product. It's not much of a problem though, I didn't think I'd ever get tired of looking at her flawless skin and unearthly beauty. I just had a problem with throwing the water sometimes when my mind was imagining her at the point of launch.

My mind must've been wandering because Sue's voice woke me up, “Hey Patty, I know she's cute and she has great complexion, but you don't need to drool”.

My hand immediately flew to my mouth. “I didn't drool!” I said as I wiped my slightly moist lips as the others laughed.

“Oh, it's okay, Patty. It's normal for guys to drool. She's in every way, perfect. I wouldn't mind doing her or her little sister myself,” Liz grinned, showing her perfect rows of expensive white teeth.

“Of course you'd do her, Liz. You'd do anything,” I teased.

“Not quite, I won't do this chair, or this table,” she said, as Sue visibly shuddered at the imagery.

Tammy asked, confusion apparent on her innocent face, “What do you mean you won't do the chair or the table? Do what?”

“So what time your sister's coming?” Liz said, changing the subject.

I shook my head, “No idea. She didn't give any exact time”.

Liz leaned back on her chair, appearing disappointed, “Aww, that's too bad”.

I decided that I was definitely going to keep a close eye on Liz and make sure that she and my sister never met.

“I wish I had a sister too. I'm tired of being the only child,” Sue said, sadness clear in her voice.

I looked at her, wondering what was running through her mind, “You don't want a sister, Sue. They'll steal your toys and annoy you all the times”.

Liz added, “Yeah, they'll soak your bras in cold water during winter as retribution for squealing to your parents about them skipping schools”.

We gave Liz the look that said, ‘you poor thing’.

Liz noticed our looks and said, “What? Do I have mashed potatoes on my face?”

-----

Stella, my sister arrived a few minutes after 10. She brought with her a number of bags that could probably last her a few years, assuming that all of them were filled with clothes. I briefly wondered if she intended to move in with me.

We hugged and it became obvious to both of us how much we missed each other. I haven't seen her since we buried mom. Though, it may have been my fault. I couldn't stand seeing my sister cry as it made me feel like crying too. I hated that feeling so much that I left as soon as it was polite to do so.

“Hey, bro. How's it hanging? And what's up with the hair? When I walked in, I thought you were your girlfriend. Your hair's almost as long as mine and my hair already reached my waist. And what made you color it? You've always been the prude of the family.”

“I'm okay. Don't bother with the hair. It must've been my friends playing a joke on me, I'll get it cut. And I'm not the prude of the family. Anyway, how are your studies? Doing well in school?”

“Oh come on, dear brother. Isn't that the most boring thing to ask? Can't you just ask me how I'm doing, or what's happening in my life?”

I let go of her and tried to give her my sternest stare, “I assume your studies didn't go very well then?”

She shrugged, “Not this semester. Nor the last one”.

I sigh, “You've got to stop thinking about mom. She's at peace now. She won't like it if you flunked school”.

She pinched both my cheeks, it really hurts, “I'm not going to flunk school, stupid. I may not have been doing as well as my previous semesters, but I'm still doing better than most others. I am not in any danger of losing my scholarship”.

Then she let go of my cheeks.

She continued, “So this is it, huh? The first Christmas we'll be celebrating without mom and dad. I guess it's inevitable, but I still don't like it.”

I held her close, as her arms closed around me and her tears fell. “Nobody said you have to like it, Little Tell. Don't worry though, I'm here and we'll make the most of this Christmas. I promise you that”.

She made a little giggle, “Thank God for brothers”.

I closed my eyes, “Thank God for sisters too”.

A short while later, she pushed me a little and asked the question I dreaded most, “Do you know where dad went?”

I groaned, signaling to her that it was my most despised subject, “No, I don't. And I don't care.”

“So he didn't contact you at all?

“None, no communication whatsoever since he took the yatch and buggered off to God knows where.”

“That's sad, he must've been spending Christmas alone this year”.

“How would you know? Maybe he's got himself a new wife and will be spending Christmas with his new family.”

She pushed me away, “You're mean. Dad won't do that to us”.

“Yeah, right. Anything's possible with that guy. Come on, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping,” I said as I picked up her bags and proceeded to the guest room.

Man, these bags were heavy. How exactly did she manage to carry all these all the way up here?

“Hey, do you intend to move in permanently or something?” I asked, while juggling her luggage. Maybe I should've just carried them one by one.

Her only reply was a giggle.