Edward Lee - Succubi

She crept out of the room and closed the door. A faint beeping unbalanced the dead silence of the house. She peeked in on her father. Milly Godwin, the nurse, had dozed off in a chair with a book in her lap. A Lifepak heart monitor blipped green, rather slowly. Her father lay still beneath the sheets.

Next, she peeked into Melanie’s room at the other end of the house. Melanie’s bed was empty, but a quick glance up showed her daughter standing before the high, narrow window, gazing out.

“Melanie? Are you okay?”

At first her daughter didn’t respond.

“Melanie?”

She turned very slowly. Like Ann, her nightgown stuck to her from sweat. Her eyes looked glazed.

“Mother,” she said.

“What, honey?”

“The moon is pink.”

«« — »»

What had she been dreaming?

She’d been smoking that weird stuff with Wendlyn and Rena. Yeah, they’d been smoking that stuff—Leahroot—and they’d been looking at her, and there was something about that, wasn’t there? Something about the looks on their faces. Something… knowing.

Melanie knew too, but she didn’t admit it to herself. How could she imagine such a thing? So she’d left abruptly, hadn’t she? Yes, she left Wendlyn and Rena in their little hidden moonlit grove, and she’d gone home. She’d gone home and gone to bed.

And in bed she dreamed.

She dreamed of the little grove again. In the dream she was still there, with Wendlyn and Rena, smoking that stuff. But it hadn’t been like before.

“Yeah, Zack’s cock is almost ten inches,” Rena was saying.

“We made him measure it once,” Wendlyn came in.

Rena giggled. “Yeah, we made him play with himself till it got hard and told him to measure it. You should’ve seen him, Melanie, Zack standing there with his pants down, jerking himself and then holding a ruler to it. We laughed our asses off.”

“Zack does anything we say,” Wendlyn added. “He’s such a weak idiot.”

“All guys are.”

“One time we came back here and there was this old droopy dog snuffling around—”

Rena was slapping her knee, laughing. “And we told Zack to do it to the dog!”

“And he did!” Wendlyn finished.

And in the dream Melanie just looked back at them. She felt neutral, observant. She was just sitting there watching them, listening to them, and riding the buzz of the stuff they smoked.

Rena was grinning. “Hot out, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s hot,” Wendlyn agreed. She was grinning too.

Melanie knew. She was not the least bit shocked when both girls skimmed their pale sundresses off. They leaned on one another and, without qualm, began touching themselves. Melanie watched them, equally without qualm. Their skin looked pure white, like a summer cloud. They both had dark brown nipples, like Melanie’s. Rena’s stuck out more on her tiny breasts. Wendlyn’s breasts looked much bigger, and firm.

“It feels better when someone else does it,” Rena said, then both girls switched hands, touching each other.

“Yeah, it feels a lot better,” Wendlyn agreed. “We do it to each other a lot.”

Melanie continued to watch. She felt hot herself.

Rena’s long slim legs began to tense, her heels digging in the dirt, while Wendlyn sat poised with her legs spread. Moonlight bathed Rena’s face. She was looking up with her eyes closed, squirming. She began to moan, and soon the moans were so loud Melanie feared the sound might carry out of the woods to the street.

When they were done, they lay back in each other’s arms. Their grins subsided to soft, sated smiles.

Melanie noticed now that her own hand had found its way to her crotch. Rubbing against the tight denim. Her mouth felt dry, her heart was thrumming. She did not resist the impulse; she stood up and took off her clothes.

The moonlight was pink in her eyes. She felt out of breath, desperate for something. Now Wendlyn and Rena were sitting on either side of her. Rena grabbed Melanie’s hand and placed it between her own legs. Wendlyn was kissing her nipples. They were giggling softly, stroking her, running their smooth white hands over her entire body. Between glances, Melanie noticed that they wore pendants of some kind, not chain necklaces, but thin white cords each with a thing like a little stone on the end. Rena’s pendant lay flat against her little breasts. Wendlyn’s swayed as she leaned over further and began to suck Melanie’s large dark nipples. All the while Melanie’s breath thinned as her fingers massaged the wet button of her sex.

“It feels better when someone else does it,” Rena said.

“Yeah,” Wendlyn said.

Rena’s hand pushed Melanie’s away. It did feel better, it felt a lot better. Melanie had masturbated a few times before, but it never felt like this. Rena’s fingers began to rub harder, faster. Wendlyn was kneading her breasts and slipping her tongue in her mouth. It didn’t take long; Rena’s fingers seemed to know exactly the best way to touch her. Melanie gasped against Wendlyn’s lips, and she came quite abruptly, a throbbing gust from her loins.

She lay back, slaked. “You’re very special,” Wendlyn whispered, her pendant swaying. All Melanie could see now was the strange pink light of the moon.

“Melanie? Are you okay?”

The dream was over.

“Melanie?” Her mother’s voice.

Had she actually been standing in her sleep? When she came awake, she was standing at the window, looking out. The dream lapsed, yet the pink phosphorescence remained. She was awake now. In her room. Staring at the moon.

“Mother, the moon is pink,” she said groggily.

“I know, honey,” her mother was saying, urging her over to the bed. “It’s a special equinox or something. It’s nothing.”

Melanie sat down on the bed. “God, I feel—”

“You’re soaked!” her mother exclaimed.

She was. Sweat dampened her nightgown to the skin.

“Are you sure you’re all right? You’re not sick?”

“I’m…fine. It was just a nightmare.”

Ann sat down next to her, pushed her damp hair off her brow. “Join the club. I had a nightmare too, as usual,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me about yours. Sometimes when you tell someone else your nightmare, it’s not scary anymore.”

God! Melanie thought. Sure, Mom, I dreamed I made out with two girls. And I liked it. “It was stupid,” she dismissed.

“You look pale. Do you want me to get you something?”

“No thanks. I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“Okay.” Ann kissed her on the cheek. “Get some sleep.”

“Good night, Mom.”

“Good night.”

Her mother left.

Melanie lay atop the covers, still perplexed by the dream. The pink moon beamed in on her. A special equinox or something. That’s right, it was almost spring. The moonlight looked pretty, but she shivered. It reminded her of the dream. That shimmering, faint pinkness. You’re very special, Wendlyn had said in the dream. They’d said that, too, for real, hadn’t they? That she was special? The more she tried to forget the dream, the more vividly she remembered it. It seemed enticingly forbidden, not repulsive. She closed her eyes and saw it more lewdly. They were pretty girls, with pretty faces. She saw their breasts again, from the dream, and those odd pendants. Then she gasped.

She lay still for a moment, until she realized what must’ve happened. It was that stuff they’d smoked, that was it. It clouded her memory, mixed some of the dream with reality. The pendants—the little gray stones on white strings. Her hand lay between her breasts. She was awake now—the dream was over.

Yet an identical pendant hung about her own neck this very moment.