Page 12 of Creep
“Creep?” I whisper, rubbing my sensitive chest through the soft cotton.
He answers with a low hum that travels all the way down my spine. The pitch-black darkness reminds me of the tunnels outside, but I feel safe knowing he’s here, watching over my sleep, listening to me—
Maybe there’s something wrong with me, but I want him to know exactly what I’m about to do. “My mind’s racing. When that happens, I usually… jerk off. It calms me down.” A little white lie. And it’s even truesometimes.
The barely audible grunt tells me he won’t tell me off for it. It shouldn’t be a turn-on, but I remember his lips on my fingers, and here we are.
“It’s… okay. Do what you have to.”
“Back at the house, I used a dildo too. It’s so awkward that you saw it fall to the floor,” I whisper, wanting to remind him of the pink Cyberskin, the flared base, and the veiny texture of my favorite toy. I want him to imagine it buried between my cheeks as he listens to me touching myself. I wish I could see his skin turning pink again.
He’s weird, no doubt about that. But maybe he’s also shy? People don’t end up doing crazy shit like sleepingunderbeds without it having some fucked-up origin earlier in life. And what’s a weird kink when he could be collecting people’s teeth for a new set of maracas? It’s harmless.
“F-fine,” he chokes out. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you. I was worried you might think badly of me. But I just really like how it feels,” I say innocently, even though I know what my words must be doing to him. Is it weird that I’m getting off on his desire for me? That I enjoy this teasing? If I asked himfor help, would he crawl from under the bed and touch me?
But I don’t want to overdo it when I don’t know much about Creep, so I settle on stroking my body up and down while my cock hardens further. Now that I’m no longer terrified to the bone, imagining him here with me, smelling me while I sleep, is kind of hot. Is he actually acreepand goes further? Or is his satisfaction in the secrecy? I don’t even know if it was the first time he was under my bed or if I’ve had a secret guest in my house for months.
I don’t hold back when it comes to stroking my cock. Iwanthim to hear it. I might pretend I’m stifling a moan, but in the dead silence of the cave, it’s pretty obvious. Is he touching himself too? I was frantic when he appeared in my room, but I swear his fly was unbuttoned.
My legs are spread wide, and I spit on my fingers before massaging myself with both hands. I imagine him crawling from under me in this darkness, face so close I could accidentallybrush against it as I lift my hips, fucking my own hand. A part of me hopes that each time I’m lowering my ass to the mattress, it dips and brushes Creep’s erection.
Because he must be hard, right? I would be offended if he wasn’t.
I’m either hearing something shift in the darkness, or it’s my own horny imagination. For all I know, hecouldbe peeking out, and I wouldn’t know. I have to bite back a stupid smile when I imagine him in night vision goggles, snooping on me, maybe even jerking off to what he sees.
“Oh yes… like that…” I whisper into the dark. He can imagine it’s absentminded mumbling for all I care, but Iwanthim to hear my stifled moans. Iwanthim to imagine himself on top of me as his obsession grows. “Inside me…”
I’m not sure anymore if my eyes are shut or not, but as I give in to pleasure, ghosts of fingers slide my thighs open, as he’s watching me, listening—
I’m not even trying to pretend I want to be quiet at this point, and when the haze of desire takes over, I stretch out limply and catch my breath. My first instinct is to reach for the box of tissues, but I’m not at home. I’m in Creep’s cave, and he’s under the bed.
Is he waiting tolickme again?
My skull echoes with my own heartbeat as I let my cum-stained hand hang off the mattress. Like an angler who’s just thrown in some bait, I need to wait.
Will he be able to see it? And if not, will the smell be enough to lure—
The tip of his tongue meets my middle finger. I’m shocked how intimate that feels. He takes a little lick, then kisses two fingers, and then the wet heat of his mouth engulfs my sticky digits. I don’t do anything, letting him indulge while I rest, my body relaxing as he shamelessly laps at my palm. It’s so ticklish Ihave to bite my cheek not to giggle. I don’t want him to think I’m laughingathim.
I whimper when he finishes by sucking on my little finger.
It’s strange. But so unexpectedly erotic, I’m flushed as if he’s given me head.
I don’t ask about it. The tension between us is too fragile, and I’d hate to shatter it.
I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, but here I am, dozing off with a smile on my face.
Chapter 8
Creep
VultureHollowisasettlement built in the picturesque area of the same name, and it’s also what our club is called. All the way back in the seventies, our village used to be called Camp Happy Bird and housed a summer camp for kids. After it shut down, all the cabins and buildings stood unoccupied until our prez decided to make this place his permanent home. I’ve been told it took a few years of fighting with people who set up a drug den in the main building that is now our clubhouse. There’s even gossip that the camp used to house a cult at one point, but it was most likely just a hippy commune.
Now, Vulture Hollow is ours, and it’s a thriving settlement with the old buildings restored to new glory. We have firepits,a canteen, laundry facilities, a garage, and even a little shop. Everything our community might want, all supported with moonshine and the happy mushrooms we grow in the nearby caves. As long as people stay in line and keep their mouths shut about the illegal activities, they can enjoy a life by the lake and forest, and can sign up to rent a boat free of charge.
Everyone has to pull their weight, of course, including me, but I’m more than happy with my position here. I’m proud to call myself a Vulture and be a part of the first community that welcomes my presence and offers me an illusion of respectability.
