Rain pattered against the cracked pavement as Yuuto Shirasaka made his way down the dim alley behind his apartment. It was late. Past midnight. The streetlamps flickered, and the air carried a chill that prickled the back of his neck.
He stopped.
Someone was following him.
Click. Click. Click.
He turned, heart thumping. No one was there. But he wasn't imagining it. The air was too still. The darkness too deep.
Then he saw her.
A pale-skinned woman stood under the dying glow of a streetlamp. Completely naked. Her body gleamed with raindrops clinging to her flawless, ivory skin. Wide hips. Massive tits that jiggled slightly with each unnatural sway. Long, soaking black hair draped over her shoulders like silk.
But her face—
Blank.
No eyes. No nose. No lips. Just smooth skin, like someone had erased it with a paintbrush.
Yuuto froze, breath caught in his throat. He didn't know whether to run or drop to his knees. His cock twitched, half-hardened in his pants. What the fuck was wrong with him?
She raised one hand… and pointed at him.
Then everything went black.
---
When Yuuto awoke, he was in bed, drenched in sweat—and cum.
His boxers were soaked. His cock, still twitching and drooling cum, pulsed like it had just exploded in a climax.
But… he hadn't even touched himself.
He gasped, groaning as another weak spurt leaked out. It felt too real to be a dream. His hips bucked uselessly against the air.
A whisper echoed in his head. "You saw me."
---
He tried to forget about it. Really. He did. The next day was a blur of lectures and half-stiff hard-ons. He couldn't focus. Every time he blinked, he saw those pale tits glistening under the streetlamp.
By nightfall, he was back in his room, jerking off furiously to erase the image from his head. But no matter how tight he gripped his shaft, no matter how fast he stroked, it didn't compare.
He needed her.
His cum shot out in a weak, disappointing stream. Nothing satisfying. Just… empty.
That's when he heard it.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
On his window.
She stood there. Naked. Pale. Silent.
His heart stopped. His cock surged to life.
She phased through the glass like mist, no sound, no hesitation. The air around her chilled the room, but her body radiated heat. Her skin glowed softly, every curve perfect like a doll crafted for fucking.
She stepped close. Yuuto didn't move. Couldn't.
His cock strained against his pants, tenting hard and dripping pre through the fabric. She leaned forward—no expression, no face, just smooth skin—and her massive tits pressed against his chest.
Then she sank to her knees.
"W-Wait… Are you… real?" he gasped.
She said nothing. Her hands, soft and wet with unseen moisture, tugged his pants down. His cock sprang free—angry, throbbing, dripping with lust.
Her faceless head tilted… and then she leaned forward.
Yuuto gasped. Fuck.
Her face didn't suck him—her skin did. It molded around his shaft, enveloping him in a velvety warmth like a living fleshlight. It wasn't a mouth. It wasn't even a hole. Her face was the hole.
Slurping, squishing, obscene noises echoed in the room as his dick was swallowed by her smooth, blank face. His knees buckled.
"Fuck—fuuuck—what the hell is this—ngghh—shit!"
He grabbed her hair, fucking her faceless head without even thinking. His cock was surrounded by perfect pressure, tightness that pulsed in sync with his heartbeat.
She sucked like a goddamn vacuum. No tongue, no teeth—just flawless friction and raw, wet suction.
His balls tightened.
"Nnnggh—shit! Gonna cum! Gonna—!"
He exploded.
Cum blasted into her, but there was no throat to swallow it. Instead, her skin absorbed every drop. It was like jerking off into a warm dream. His mind went blank. His hips jerked forward, burying every inch.
She didn't stop. Even as he spasmed and groaned, she milked him harder.
More.
More.
He could hear her voice inside his skull now. "Feed me."
He came again. Harder. Weaker. His legs gave out, collapsing to the floor as she suckled his twitching cock like it was her last meal.
The room spun.
When he opened his eyes… she was gone.
His cock was soft, shiny, and coated in… nothing. Not a drop left. His body trembled from the sheer intensity.
He groaned and looked down. On his inner thigh—her handprint. Burned in like a hickey from another world.