On the night of Christmas, she came to grant his wish, though it would last far beyond merely just the night. Awakened from such a gentle sleep, already fully strapped down and helpless for his dream situation. She said nothing, there was no need, her touches would convey everything needed. Every year she would fulfil a lucky man’s greatest desire.
Just the lightest touch from her felt like an electric shock of sheer ecstasy, so intense that he was almost worried how it would feel once she pressed her entire hand around it, or even her mouth. He’d soon find out though that her sexual power was far beyond what he’d ever have imagined, that there would be no way of coming until she willed it upon him, no matter how much he could take. When he started to beg and shout out for release, the only response he’d continue to be met with was that same lustful gaze. She could keep him safely erect for as long as she desired, that would be enough to communicate her intent.
After the hours passed, in those brief moments when he could think of anything except the agonizing need for the orgasm trapped away, in the spare few seconds not spent hopelessly pleading with her to let him come, he wondered whether to call her an angel… or a demon.