Penetrating the Solstice

The Solstice neared. The nights had grown longer, colder. Rare was the wanderer caught walking through the night. All had turned indoors, spending time close by family and friends, seeking warmth, shelter, assurance. Seeking affirmation, that life would continue in this time of dying when the world fell into its gray wintry slumber.

The veil was still thin. There was still time, but for how long? After the Solstice, as the nights began to shorten and the sun returned, the gateway between worlds would begin to close. It would be harder to slip through, to find someone, to feed off their lust, their primal energy.

This was probably my last chance of the year to feel the warmth of a living man. Or woman.

Even outside, they tended to huddle in groups, strolling through the park to look at the brightly flashing lights intended to ward off the dark. They served as a frequent reminder of the coming light, the rebirth of the year, the beginning of the new cycle. To many of them, they meant celebration, family, togetherness, sitting around a warm fire.

I watched them walk by – couples, moms and dads with their little ones, friends out together enjoying the show. I waited for the right one, the lone one, the straggler no one seemed to notice. I guess I could have taken joy in the laughter, the love they shared with one another, but no one shared it with me. No one even bothered to look. They’d already celebrated the thinnest the veil would get, and on that night – Samhain, Halloween, All Hallow’s Eve, whatever they wanted to call it – I crossed over and pretended to be one of them. I was pumped full of so much warmth. So much lust was emptied unto me, I gorged myself on the desires of the flesh.

The living have no idea how cold it is on this side. Even as they bathe in the summer sun, we freeze. We feel no warmth, no closeness, no connection. It is only when the veil is thin, whether as part of the cycle or by the special touch of a gifted living human, that we can experience that human touch again. This is why we cross over when we can. I still crave human companionship, human desire.

So before the veil began to thicken, I watched and waited until I saw him. I knew immediately he was the one. He was alone and thoughtful. His mind had wandered inward, focusing on something other than the lights and laughter of the winter night. He didn’t see me as I materialized in the shadows before him, but he felt my presence.

He pulled his coat closed and stepped back, squinting into the darkness beyond the pool of light where he stood. Broad shoulders, messy dark hair, tall and lean, a long dark beard. He huddled into himself, guarding against the sudden deep chill as I pulled myself out of the shadows and stepped forward.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a deep, heavy voice that was also gentle and caring. “I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s because I didn’t want you to.” I stepped closer, pulling my dark coat out of the night and wrapping it around my shoulders. Even manifesting a physical form, the deep bone-aching chill followed me, spreading underneath my flesh.

His eyes met mine, dark in the shadow of his brow. Mine, frosty blue, held him in place. His jaw fell slack, as if he’d considered saying something else but forgot what it was. He searched my face for the answer, trying to remember what it was, but I stopped him.

Before he could utter another word, I reached up and wrapped a hand around the back of his head, burying my fingers in his silky soft hair. I pulled him in close and raised my face to his, locking lips with him, my other hand reaching into his coat and resting on his chest. Heat radiated through his clothes, his pulse quickening under my touch.

I breathed in his smell, the aroma of living flesh and the sharp sting of fear. He was delicious! I could feel the uncertainty in his touch as he slowly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me even closer to him as we stayed connected. I pressed my hips against his and felt his throbbing desire rising for me, reaching for me through his pants.

“It’s so cold,” I breathed, breaking our kiss. “Warm me up.” My chest heaved with each impassioned breath. My heart pounded out my own desire in my chest.

“You’re shivering,” he remarked, astounded, but the cold wasn’t the only reason I shook. I shook from desire, from the need to feel him inside me, to let him fill me.

“Please,” I repeated, sliding my hands down his chest, letting him wrap me in his warmth. I melted into his coat and rested my head under his chin.

I felt him turn and pull me away from where we stood. I could vaguely see the light shifting around us. I followed the best I could, stepping carefully so I didn’t trip as he whisked me away. I didn’t know where we were going, but I had a feeling he was taking me out of sight, somewhere he could warm these frozen bones. My sex quivered with excitement and anticipation.

Once we were out of sight, he hooked a finger under my chin and lifted my face back to his. Our lips met again, parting, letting our tongues twist around each other. My hands worked eagerly at his shirt, pulling it out of the waist of his pants, groping for his skin, to feel his warmth on my icy fingertips. I could almost hear the sizzle as they touched his flesh. He flinched at the cold.

“No,” he breathed, pulling back. “Lower. Move your hands lower to warm them.” His hands were cradling my face now, his eyes staring deep into mine, reaching in and touching my very soul.

I grabbed his belt and pulled it through the buckle, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants as the leather strap fell open. My grip took his shaft, pulling it from his boxers and stroking the warm pulsing flesh. I found myself sinking to my knees, looking up at his face as I pressed the tip of his manhood against my lips, kissing it before letting it slip into my mouth along my tongue.

I sank my face on his length, opening my throat to take every inch of him. He moaned above me and placed a hand on the back of my head to guide me up and down, pacing me as I slowly pulled up, sucking on his cock, and driving me back down until my lips reached the base. He grew harder in my mouth, longer, wider.

I wet him with my spit, getting him ready to enter me, to slide between the tender folds of flesh between my legs. I was soaked with desire, with longing, with need. I pulled back and let him fall from my lips as he guided me back to my feet. I kissed him again, tasting his breath and letting him taste his masculine living flavor on my tongue.

“Lie down,” I whispered in his ear, pushing him back.

Such a good living boy, he did as he was told, sliding his pants down to his knees as he did. I straddled him before he was completely flat on his back, pulling up the gown I’d worn and sliding my soft wet center over his thick, solid cock.

I took every inch of this man, this living monument to lust and desire. I rode him, letting him fill me with his length and girth, letting him stretch me to stuff himself inside me. Hands on his chest, fingers digging into his flesh, I closed my eyes, breathing deep and heavy as I began grinding my hips into his.

I gripped him with the muscles between my legs, stroking him, pulling on him, pulling from deep within him. I felt his climax rising up his shaft, driven by his balls. I felt his soul behind it, mixing with his seed, churning in his cock. I rode him harder, fucking him. He moaned beneath me, thrusting his hips upwards to meet me. I cried out and arched my back as I felt him reach orgasm.

His seed shot inside me, warm and thick, but something else came with it. As I worked him for every last drop, his heat filling me, I felt the wisps of his spirit soaking in through me. I gasped, sucking in air.

“That’s it,” I told him. “Let me have it all,” but he lay silent and motionless beneath me now. His skin quickly grew cold to the touch as his warmth radiated through me like a glowing light. I pulled myself off of him, sliding off the cock that was still hard but no longer came. His skin turned gray. His eyes dulled. I had drained him of his seed and his soul. He had filled me with the warmth of his life and desire.

I stared at him as I slid through the veil, stepping back through the shadows of the night and entering the ether. I wondered what they would think when they found him in the morning. Would they realize he’d given himself to a wraith in the night or would they think he’d simply frozen to death? In the end, I guess it doesn’t really matter how mortals die, just how they please us and themselves.