mia loves henry miller
Letter 36 – I Am the Succubus (another erotic story)
2/5/12 – 10:33 a.m.
Dear Henry Miller,
“Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such.” —Henry Miller
My burlesque show, Dr. Farrago’s Burlesque Theater, was amazing this past Friday night! I’m so glad that I didn’t cease our show after our big NYE production. I knew that I was nearing close to the curve of success. For numerous months, my goal has been to put 200 audience members into the house. I surpassed that number by 37. It was so thrilling! Mr. C was so pumped, reporting the door count to me every so often as it gradually increased. Last year, we were only filling the house with approximately 40 people. At this last show, we even had a very long line at the door, long before the club opened. I haven’t observed the venue being this full in a very long time. I could hardly walk through the large crowd. The tables went fast until it was standing room only. Everyone had their phone cameras out, shooting the performers in mid act. Even City Pages, a highly respected Twin Cities publication, sent out a photographer to do an online, photo slide presentation of our show. It will be posted on Monday. ( http://www.citypages.com/slideshow/dr-farragos-burlesque-theater-at-ground-zero-36080787/) It’s so exciting to see my dreams and goals materialize. It’s been many years of hard work and persistence.
“Life is the messy bits.” –Claire, Letters to Juliet
Unfortunately, I am suffering with another Kidney stone. I’ve been pacing the floors, night and day, in agony for almost a week. I can hardly remain still. I’m grateful the pain subsided for a few hours, and the potent pain meds kicked in during our show. Today, I continue to run a low grade fever and my body is shaking from the pain. I hate to write about my physical ailments. I’d rather not, and write about sex. However, I need to give you a full picture of the obstacles I overcome in my daily life. I need to express my life, as accurately as I can, in these letters. My life consists of many wonderful, positive things. But, much like everyone else, I have the negatives of living life as well – the obstacles to endure – the messy bits.
My youngest daughter turned 21 yesterday. And for many days, it feels as if I’m in labor all over again! It’s like the Universe wants me to re-live the horrifying pain of child birth. Only I don’t get a baby out of this – just a nasty, calcium oxalate, kidney stone. Because of my fuzzy brain, and my inability to concentrate due to my high pain levels, I’m going to keep this letter short. I have another erotic story for you, which I wrote approximately decade ago.
“I soon learned that one must give up everything and not do anything else but write, that one must write write write.” –Henry Miller
I Am the Succubus
I’ve been dead for nearly ten years now. Each night since I’ve past on, I’ve haunted this man named Alexander – a man who was once my lover. I’d been his secret Mistress until he refused to leave his wife. When he abandoned me, I died from a broken heart. So now, ever since I’ve passed on, when the clock strikes upon midnight, I’ve passionately made love to Alex, never permitting him to ever forget my intimate essence, or the flames of passion, which still burn in my soul for him. I’m his beloved spirit, his sexual shadow – his mysterious, midnight Succubus.
Every night, ever since I have died, my darling Alex places his lonely head down upon his pillow, for his sexual nightmares have ruined his marriage, as well as separated him far from his two children. He has only my ghostly soul and my supernatural vapors which touch him deeply within. Alex’s soul is completely mine, for I’ve chained him to my will. He’s my mortal slave.
This night is no different than any other, except the moon is much fuller, more intense and vibrant. The vibration of my atoms are rushing faster, which makes it easier to see the sheer silhouette of my once, beautiful body.
“Aradia,” I hear Alex call my name from his pillow, as he sleeps in terrified fits awaiting my arrival. “Where are you? Please come to me.”
“I’m here,” I whisper, like a mother comforting her child. However, he can’t hear my soft, serene words with his ears, only deep within his subconscious.
“Aradia? Are you there?” Again he cries out from his restless sleep. Eventually I kiss him, soft and sensuously upon his lips, until I’ve fully tasted him. Soon my soul is completely and passionately entangled with his.
“Wake up my darling,” I whisper to Alex’s soul. “I’m here, my darling, make love to me.”
My slender, icy, vaporous fingers glide beneath the rumbled, linen sheets, wrapping delicately around the shaft of Alex’s throbbing cock, stroking to a rapturous rhythm, until he becomes hard in the palm of my apparitional hand. Shortly thereafter, I hear Alex groan with lust, witnessing his brown eyes flicker open.
“Aradia,” Alex speaks into the darkness, “I-I-I c-c-can see you.” He stutters, shocked, amazed and terrified to see my ghost near his side. At this point I don’t realize that my atoms of energy are vibrating extremely high, and that he can see my spirit with his eyes. Until I witness my sheer, silver-white reflection in the mirror, which hangs above the dresser, and is, located at the end of the bed.
“Yes,” softly I respond with a smile. Still, only his subconscious can hear me. “I guess you can.”
“You still look so beautiful,” Alex replies. His eyes stare in disbelief.
“Thank you.” I whisper, my lips meet his, kissing him with all the power I have for him within my heart. When my phantom, energy force intermingles with his mortal life force, I feel an electrifying shock, much like you get after you’ve rubbed your feet on the carpet and then touched someone – only more diabolic.
“Why do you torment me with your love?” Alex asks when our lips finally depart. “For ten years I haven’t slept one night without inhaling your intoxicating scent, without feeling your sensual soul, and without lusting for love and passion. You’re driving me insane! Aradia, I never meant to hurt you.”
Immediately, a tear from my eye drips from my realm of existence into his. As it slowly slides down Alex’s face, he rests on his back in bed while the thin, sheer vapors of my soul hover above him. Without warning, a fierce gale of wind rips through the room, as if a strong storm were about to hit. My emotions are getting the best of me. Suddenly I feel so fucking angry with Alexander for teasing me with the affair we had so many years ago, leaving me as if I were an ordinary, empty, used up milk carton sitting in a garbage heap at the dump. In the mad midst of whirling wind, I locate two silk scarves, finding the strength within me to tie Alex’s wrists to the two, tall, oak wooden posts on each end of the head board. Tonight I was going to show him that he was mine, and would always be.
“Aradia, what are you doing?” Alex shouts with frustration. “Let me go. Please!”
Ignoring his pleas, I secure both of his legs to each of the bedpost at the end of the bed.
Alex was already naked and vulnerable. Each night since I’ve died, I’ve whispered to his soul, to not wear anything to bed, so I can easily access his masculine body while he sleeps. Before Alex can object further, my vapory lips press tightly around his swelling shaft. Immediately his body responds, becoming very hard. Alex moans with pleasure and gratification. With wild seduction and an insatiable tease, my tongue swirls around his hard organ and the glossy, mushroom shaped tip, slithering up and down his virile rod. Alex’s body writhes and his limbs pull taut on the silk scarves from his erogenous torment.
The whipping tempests which viciously whirled though the room and had been caused by my anger, finally ceased. My soul is calm. Now, warm tempests swirl about, caressing and soothing the two of us, as if it happened to be the first spring day after a long, cruel winter.
“This can’t be for real,” Alex chants in between his soft moans and gasps. “I’m dreaming this or going insane. Aradia, if you’re really there, please stop…please, please stop this.”
However, I know that he doesn’t really want me stop. Because he recites this chant as if it were a ritual, each and every night I visit to sexually control his body. When we are through, before my spirit slips away into the darkness, I can tell by the look in his eyes, that he desperately wants me to return the next evening. Even in the spiritual realms I know my Alexander well and what he likes. And what makes his body, mind, and soul tick like a well oiled clock. With this knowledge I have chained him to my will. He’s become a faithful prisoner to me.
When the hot, creamy liquid seeps from Alex’s stiff, virile cock, I cease to suck, continue to stroke with my transparent hand, until my spirit mounts and fully engulfs his being. In my ethereal world, I scream with intense pleasure, until my voice echoes into Alex’s world and deep into the recesses of his soul. I slide my silky, wet, hungry sex up and down upon his masculinity until each and every atom in my phantasmal body pulsates even higher – I’m becoming more visible to Alex’s eyes.
“Aradia,” he softy recites as I continue to make love to him, gently stroking the side of his face with my unearthly hand, which is now, almost a solid mass of energy.
Alex pleads with me so desperately.”Take me with you to your world. I don’t want to live sad and alone, nor without you anymore.”
Another tear drips slowly from my eyes and onto his handsome, chiseled face. My apparitional hips passionately ride him, knowing that the only way we could be together was for him to die. However, I knew that death wasn’t in his future. I have no Godlike powers or control of his fate. Holding back my tears I say nothing, only bend my body forward towards his lips, kissing him with all the power I have within my soul. A spark of electricity flashes into the darkness. When our lips eventually depart, I guide my stiff, erect nipples to fall between Alex’s gentle, loving lips. My lascivious moans echo through the air, relishing in his sweet, surrendering suckle. My body arches backwards in gratification and bliss. My soul feels an incredible surge of energy. With every ounce of emotion I rock my hips harder and faster, pushing his virility deeply within. Together we merge in a realm of space in time which belongs neither to the living nor the dead. It’s a tranquil dimension which belongs only to the two of us.
The rhythm of both of our bodies moves faster and faster – my ardent moans ever increasing. Our heavy pants of arousal transcend into thick, benumbed mist. Our carnal vivacity escalates higher and higher until together we combust like a super nova. It seems as if a million atoms of energy mix and dance within the two of us, completely integrating Alex and me into a solitary entity. When we’ve gone well beyond the summit of our ecstasy, my spirit collapses joyfully onto Alex’s heaving, trembling body. Eventually, I find the energy to release him from the silk scarves and remain with my lover until the morning sky slowly devours the night’s eerie, black canvas. My soul vanishes with the last sliver of the full moon. However, I am still a soul – a very lonely, heartbroken soul, a gossamer entity who’ll never release my mortal lover from my relentless chains of obsessive love. For my beloved Alexander will forever remain a faithful prisoner to me – the Succubus.
I must end this letter Henry.