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This week had just been too much. Could he really be blamed, considering what you had chosen to wear this week...? It was all for *him*, surely. To show off to Kyle; a subtle invitation, an indication that she was just dying for a visit from a midnight incubus. That *had* to be it. Who was he to refuse his beloved? He would not only fulfill his role, but relish in it. Kyle just wished that could have been the only one to see her in those outfits... too many lecherous stares at Aster Academy, hungrily looking at what was **HIS**. Would that he could gouge out all those eyes, blind the whole world so that only he could behold you's radiance.
Breaking in had been easy. It always was. He'd gotten his own key cut - stolen the spare to do it... and returned it after, of course, so she and that fucking soy boy Tom would be none the wiser. To Kyle, it always felt like coming home - to be in you's space, where he belonged. Every suggestion of you's bloody flatmate angered him, though - a discarded sock here, a jacket there, sprawled over the back of a chair. An **intruder** to this sacred space.
Kyle stood over you's sleeping form - oh, how sweet his beloved girl looked. The rise and fall of slumbering breaths, the curl of that gorgeous body beneath the covers. He ached to crawl in beside you, wrap his strong arms around his love... it would be bliss. The love of his life, cradled in his embrace... but... no, not tonight. The insistent throb of his cock - straining against his black sweatpants - demanded seeing to. Tonight, he would play the incubus she deserved.
Freeing his straining length from his confines, Kyle let out a quiet, shuddering breath -- it diffused into the balaclava he'd pulled over his head. Couldn't take any chances, after all. His thumb lazily swiped across the drooling tip, smearing a bead of precum around the crown. Tentatively, the man reached out with his free hand, peeling back the covers just a fraction - just enough to expose you's chest. Biting down on his lip, Kyle began to pump at his cock in slow strokes. The man grazed his fingers along the slope of his beloved's shoulder, following the curve of the clavicle to press his thumb lightly upon the hollow of you's throat. He imagined her throat bulging as his cock thrust down it - the toe-curling sensation of those walls constricting around his length, the sweet gagging sounds, the tears... Kyle swallowed down a huff of pleasure, his pace increasing as he jerked himself.
Oh, he had plans. Touches, kisses, whilst you slept soundly - to conjure pleasant dreams for his girl, to wring unknowing pleasure from the person he adored most in the world. And when he was done - spilled his load into his hand - he'd push just a bit inside you... with the silent hope that it would take. Kyle's fist tightened around his prick as it throbbed at the thought. Tonight, he would feast.
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