He leans back long enough to meet my eyes, his own now sparkling with glee as he hums, his eyes gorgeously crinkled in a cheeky smile. My breath catches in my throat and all rational thought disintegrates… my inner voice is no help at all. That bitch is as stunned as a raccoon trying to wash cotton candy. Cian bites his cheek trying to keep his smile in check and tilts his head as if considering something.
Thankfully he speaks before I can make an ever bigger fool of myself. “Just how serious were you, I wonder?”
I frown and try to piece together context clues that aren’t there. “Uhmm… that depends on what we’re talking about.”
“Tentacles.”
I stare at him, not quite understanding. “Tentacles?”
His smile broadens and he nods.
“Uhmm, well… they’re like, one of my top five fantasy kinks…” My voice trails off and I wait for this conversation to start making sense. Cian looks like the cat that got the canary but I don’t understand it. I make a face and try to think of something to say to change the subject when something slimy slides across my stomach. My brow bunches in confusion, because Cian’s hands are still kneading my breasts… so what… Oh.OH!
My eyes shoot down and watch as a bright green appendage continues to slide over my stomach, while two more slowly wrap around each of my thighs. “Tentacles!”
Cian flashes a smug grin and raises an eyebrow, his voice pitching low as he teases, “The better to fuck you with, my dear.”
Excitement courses through me almost as fast as heat pools in my stomach and I bust out laughing. Oh yeah, this ghost is mine, and I’m keeping him.
Chapter eighteen
Tentacle Porn
Cian
My eyes bounce hungrily from Trissa’s face to the glowing ectoplasm tentacles tightening around the creamy flesh of her stomach and thighs. I wasn’t sure how the goo would hold up in water, but thankfully it doesn’t seem to be an issue. I slide a hand down to test out the pliancy and I’m surprised and pleased to feel that it’s solid but soft—still cool to the touch and slightly slimy, but not the same ‘goo’ consistency as when I’m incorporeal.
Trissa’s cheeks are flushed despite the now tepid water filling the tub. I lean in to capture her mouth and she immediately deepens the kiss. The feel of her smooth tongue swirling around my own makes my cock swell snugly against my pants. I want to undress—to remove all the barriers between us and press her naked flesh against my own—and I will, but not yet. First, I’m going to help her live out a fantasy and watch her pretty pink cunt stretch around the ample girth of the mating tentacle I’ve crafted just for her.
My hands busy themselves with her pert nipples, and I mentally bid the tentacle to take form and seek the warmth of her core. As the tapered tip reaches the apex of her thighs Trissa gasps and breaks the kiss to watch. I smile and lean back, fully intending to enjoy the show as well.
“How many of those things can you make? What—” Trissa’s voice is strained as she watches the neon green tip of this new tentacle reach her vulva with wide eyes. I took special care designing this one—it’s not an anatomically correct hectocotylus—and although it does have some attributes from various squid and octopus… I did take creative liberties. The base is like all the others—about as thick around as a can of soup, with suckers lining the bottom side. From there, however, the similarities end. About ten inches down from the tip there’s an elongated hexagonal dipyramid ridge that extends up three inches. A knot-like protrusion sits directly above that, slightly concaved on one side, with ridges inside that resemble the rattle on a venomous snake. Above the ‘knot’, the top is almost completely lined in small cilium-like tentacles that end just short of the smooth tip. It’s as if octopus, snake, and sea anemone attributes got all jumbled together to form one very libidinous appendage. It’s an abomination. She’ll love it. I know because I discreetly studied her fairly large collection of ‘special’ toys in an effort to get this just right.
“I’ve only practiced up to five. This one takes a bit more effort to make and control… do you like it?” I send the tip between her silken folds, inching forward slowly to allow her time to process every single sensation.
“I—oh—yes!” Trissa moans as I bid it to swirl, letting the texture of the cilium massage her inner walls as the mating arm easily breeches her wet heat. I can’t feel anything through the tentacles physically, but I can feel them mentally, and the mental stimulation forces a physical reaction in my own body. I gasp,feeling the tightening of Trissa’s cunt around the tentacle echoed on my cock as if it were me sliding into her.Chrissake!I grit my teeth against the unexpected pleasure and groan.
Her eyes squeeze shut as the base of the knot catches in her channel and she bucks against the tentacles holding her in place, desperately trying to bear down on the protrusion and take it inside of her. She opens her eyes, wild with desire, and reaches toward the mating arm with both hands, as if she’s planning to force it in. Without thinking I send two more smaller tentacles out to wrap around each of her wrists, pulling her arms away from her body and holding them there. Six tentacles is more than I’ve practiced, but I grin in triumph as I easily manage the task. It seems they’re actually easier to manipulate when they have more substance in my corporeal form. An impatient whine pulls me from my thoughts and I glance up to find my blue haired beauty glaring at me.
“Cian… you promised,” Trissa struggles against her bonds and I frown in confusion, unsure if she wants me to stop or continue. Her hungry eyes suggest the later, but she’s never struggled against me before and although I do want to fulfill her fantasies—I’m admittedly a bit out of my depth here.
“If you want me to stop, at any point, call me Casper.” I hold her gaze, nerves swirling in my belly as I still all the tentacles, waiting for her response.
She growls—literallygrowls, and then says, “You promised to make me scream your name in this bathtub. I’m here, I’m willing, and you’re a consent king— but please stop fucking around andmake me scream!” Her eyes run over my face quickly and she pauses. She must see something in my expression that she wasn’t quite expecting because her eyes soften and she nods reassuringly.
A nervous laugh catches in my throat and I blink, stunned. Well, alright then. I tighten all the bondage tentacles whilesimultaneously resuming the swirling motion on the tip of the mating arm. A slow smile spreads across my lips as I watch pleasure dance across her features. A self-consciousness blush heats my neck and the tips of my ears, but I ignore it. Despite having lived a few decades longer than Trissa, I’m much less experienced with anything of this nature. I’m not a virgin— I had two sexual partners before dying —although neither of them were as adventurous or sensual as Trissa. I wasn’t a prude… I had just never imagined anything likethiseven in my wildest fantasies.
Lust flows through my veins like so much blood and I concentrate on the mating arm, willing it to vibrate like I practiced. Trissa’s eyes go wide and I watch in fascination as her pupils blow as she once again struggles against her bonds, except this time I know that it’s part of the game we’re playing, and I don’t stop. A rhythmic buzzing fills the air as the vibrations pick up speed, quickly morphing into a steady thrum as the reverberating knot pushes into her greedy heat. The tight walls of her cunt give way against the stimulation and we gasp in unison as the mating arm gets sucked into her channel past the knot, filling her up until she’s too full to take anymore.
I wait a beat for her to adjust to the invasion before doubling down, commanding the textured tip to swirl in unison with the vibrating knot, while I pull it back slowly—reveling in Trissa’s accompanying throaty moan—before slamming the mating arm back in and setting a steady pace.
“Cian! Fuck!Oh gods!” Trissa’s words are slurred as she squirms uselessly, head thrashing from side to side. It takes all my concentration to continue my ministrations against the sudden onslaught of phantom sensations being delivered directly to my cock. I can feel myself weeping a steady stream of pre-cum and I shiver against the heady experience.
“Is it what you imagined, love? Or do you need more?” My voice comes out just above a whisper. I know she heard me though, because she whimpers so sweetly in response.
“M-more?” She blinks, but her eyes are out of focus.
I decide to test my luck with the ectoplasm and summon one more of the smaller tentacles—like the ones holding her arms in place. It’s smooth all over, without even the detail of the suckers, but it’ll work. As the last dark tentacle slides into position between Trissa’s legs I undo my pants and free my aching shaft, palming it and stroking myself leisurely.
