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“Shhh,” the monster says. “I won’t do anything you don’t want.”
Tentacles wrap around my ankles, pushing my legs apart, and the one beneath my hips tilts up to expose my ass. A cool draft whistles in from the windows and brushes against my wet folds.
“Aaah, I’ve never felt so amazing. How are you doing this?”
“The fluid only enhances what’s already there,” the monster says with a deep rumble that vibrates across all his tentacles.
“Oh.” My cheeks grow hot. “Could you play with my clit, please?”
“You never need to ask.”
Thin tentacles make their slow ascent up my legs and settle at my pussy. They slide between my inner and outer lips and push them open, exposing me fully.
Another thicker appendage, about the size of a blunt cockhead, circles my opening.
My breath quickens. I’m so sensitive to his touch to the point that I can feel the texture of his tentacle’s skin. It’s mostly smooth but with tiny raised bumps that provide spine-tingling friction.
“Are you ready for more?” he asks, sounding like he’s standing right by my side instead of at the foot of the bed. Just so I know exactly what he means, he taps my entrance with the tentacle.
“Please,” I whisper.
The tentacle pushes inside, stretching me open. Pleasure spreads across my entire pelvis as the tiny bumps expand. It’s like using a textured condom, but with the studs made of flesh instead of silicone.
“What are you doing?” The pitch of my voice rises.
“Do you remember what I did to your clitoris last night?” he asks while making flicking motions over the sensitive bundle of nerves.
I moaned. “How could I forget?”
“My tentacle’s cilia will stroke your inner walls, providing you with a more thorough experience.”
Even as he says the words, the tentacle pushes in and out of me but with those tiny bumps moving in different directions to stroke my insides. There’s no way to describe the sensation except hundreds of soft fingers giving me a deep massage.
My hips and thighs tremble with the onslaught of sensation, and I murmur, “What else can you do?”
A second tentacle slithers between my ass cheeks and traces loose circles around the hole. It’s flat and wet, like a tongue, and also textured, making my pussy clench around the tentacle.
The monster moans. “That feels so good.”
“You get pleasure from this, too?” I wiggle my ass.
“Every inch of my mate is a source of ecstasy,” he says, his voice deepening. “Squeeze harder.”
“Okay,” I say through panting breaths.
Pleasure comes at me from all angles, and as the monster places two tentacles over my nipples, my arms and legs tremble. This is more action than a woman can handle. It’s like being pleasured by two men, who aren’t demanding anything in return.
The monster continues pumping that tentacle in and out of me with a rhythm that matches my rapid breaths. I’m panting, trembling, sweating. It feels like I might implode, but there’s no way I’m going to tell him to stop.
Another orgasm approaches, making the muscles tighten. By now, the tentacle at my asshole is making up and down moments and has developed long nodules to softly scrape against my pucker.
“You are so beautiful like this, my mate,” the monster says.
“Can you see in the dark?” I ask, already feeling silly. Of course, he can—he’s a creature of shadow.
“Yes,” he rumbles. “And the view is delicious.”
“I’m so close,” I say with a moan.
