Message-ID: <5192eli$9710271010@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: poisoniv@supernews.com (Poison Ivy) Subject: The Fearless Vampire, Part 1 (FF vamp) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: poisoniv@supernews.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <3454fcfb.22505332@news.supernews.com> The Fearless Vampire By Poison Ivy Part 1. I check the clock. 4:54. Only six minutes to go. I check my email again, and there's still nothing important to deal with. I rifle through the huge pile of papers in my inbox again. I check the clock. 4:55. Only five minutes to go. I want to get out of this place something fierce. Today is payday, which means I had to deliver paychecks to everyone in the office. It's actually the only part of the job I like, but I should have worn more comfortable shoes. My feet are killing me, my calves are killing me, my back is killing me, my neck is killing me. Even my ears hurt, thanks to these goddamn earrings my boyfriend gave me. I don't know what possessed me to wear the fucking earrings, it's not like I see the fucking idiot any more. I'm sore sore sore. If I still had money, it would be a great day to get a massage. I could _really_ use a massage. The thing is, until a year ago, I actually had the money. I could've just called someone and I'd be on my way to get a nice massage. You see, Mom and Dad have money, and I used to be on an allowance. I was rich, and I was the real party girl. But then one of my friends threw a big bash and her wet blanket neighbor got pissed at the loud music and called the cops. The police came and charged me with indecent exposure and resisting arrest. It was a ridiculous situation, and the police were totally unreasonable. I got a good lawyer and the charges were dropped, but Mom and Dad were furious. And they just cut me off--snap!--Just like that. My lifeline gone. And now I have this shitty job. So I don't like wet blanket neighbors, and I don't like cops. And, right now, I'm not too happy with Mom and Dad, either. I hear footsteps coming my way and I check the clock and I hope whoever it is will just walk on by. But no such luck. "Virginia, honey, how are you doing?" Oh, shit, it's Larry. Larry the asshole. Don't honey me, asshole. Doesn't he realize it is 4:57, only three minutes to go? He's standing at the entrance to my cubicle, staring. I pretend to read my email. Maybe if I look busy he'll go away. "How are you doing on those expense reports?" Larry asks. Oh Christ. Now I'm annoyed. Really annoyed. I spin in my chair and face him. Larry is a short man with a tendency to sweat and a belly that hangs out over his belt. About six months ago his wife divorced him. He probably deserved it. Larry is a loser. Expense reports? He must be kidding. "I'll get them to you tomorrow," I say. Larry sighs. Larry sighs a lot. He runs his fat fingers through his hair. "Virginia, I wanted to finish them tonight," he whines. "I have an appointment at 5:30," I lie. If I can just make him feel a little guilty. "I could cancel it. But I've already canceled twice. I may have a problem rescheduling." I give him my best hangdog eyes. Larry sighs again. He stands there quiet for a minute, thinking. "No, no, don't cancel your appointment," he says. "But can you have them done by noon tomorrow? I need to turn them in tomorrow." I have no idea if I can get them done by noon tomorrow, how the hell should I know? "Sure," I say, "no problem." Larry turns his pudgy body around and walks away. Thank God. And it's 5:02, I'm two minutes late getting out of this shit hole. I grab my purse and I'm out of here like a truck with bad brakes, moving fast in my too-high-for-payday heels. My car, my car is the only real joy I have left in my life. It's a beautiful Porsche, which I got when I was still on my allowance. It's very fast, and it's very red. It looks beautiful there in its parking spot, all red and shiny and ready for anything. Unfortunately, I'll have to give it up soon, since I can't afford the insurance any more. But for now, I love every second I spend in my little red rocket. I am a real terror behind the wheel! I open the door and settle down into the leather seat and for a moment or two I just sit. I love sitting in my Porsche, the odor of the black leather, the smooth leather steering wheel. I kick off my shoes, close the door, turn the key, fire her up. The engine growls appreciatively. My Porsche loves to have her motor running. While the engine warms up, I run my hand over the gearshift. The manual transmission always gets comments from my friends. A woman driving a stick? I hear way too many phallus jokes. My boyfriend said my Porsche represents my subliminal desire to be a dominatrix--all wrapped up in black leather and leading a powerful machine around by its dick. My boyfriend was a fucking moron. Which is why he's now my ex-boyfriend. In fact, I don't think of my car as a man at all. To me, my Porsche is female. I like to think of her as a temperamental woman, one who carries me to the store or to see my friends and waits patiently for me to finish my errands. She's my little errand girl. And then I have her drive me home, purring like a kitten as I rev her motor. I don't tell a soul about this female car thing, though. Given the choice between dick jokes and dyke jokes, I'll take the dick jokes, thank you. I take off the emergency brake and back my Porsche out and take her into first. I'm the only one driving in the garage, and I'm out in a flash. Traffic is light, everyone must be working late to finish their expense reports. Ha! I'm even hitting the lights. I only need to run one yellow and one red on the trip home. As I turn into the parking garage at home, I almost hit some old lady on the sidewalk, and I honk at her, beep-beep-beep! And the old lady gives me the finger! Ha! I can't help but shake my head and laugh. An old lady giving me the finger! Christ, she must be fifty years old! I like that kind of spirit in an old bag! The close parking spots are all full, so I park my Porsche in the handicapped spot and leave her there and go to the elevator lobby. The lobby from the parking garage is a chintzy little room. The building owners do a good job keeping the building up, but they don't get down into the garage much. There are always old newspapers on the table and the ashtray is always full of old cigarette butts. And the elevator in this building is slow slow slow slow slow. And hanging around in this stupid little lobby is boring boring boring boring boring. Sometimes I take the stairs up to my apartment, but not today--my feet hurt, and I don't want to tackle seven flights of stairs in heels. At least there is a lock on the outside door, and I don't need to worry about creeps getting in and hassling me. My friend Alice lives in an apartment building with an open lobby, and she was beat up and robbed while she waited for the elevator. She was lucky. She could've been raped and murdered. Ugh, I shouldn't think about rape and murder, but what else is there to think about waiting for the elevator? It's the one thing I envy of men--they don't need to worry about being raped and murdered. And it pisses me off. Why should _I_ have to worry about it, and not, say, my idiot boss Larry? Or my idiot ex-boyfriend? Finally, the elevator bell rings, the door opens, I hurry in and punch the sixth floor button. The door slowly closes and the elevator goes slowly into motion. I swear, it takes ten seconds to get from one floor to the next. Parking. Lobby. One. Two. Three. A girl could grow old waiting. At least the elevator doesn't stop to let anyone else get aboard. I finally get to my floor, and thankfully the hallway is empty, no neighbors to deal with. I'm home, I'm alone, I can finally relax. I let my purse dangle from my hand, and I sashay down the hall, and, since I know no one is watching, I giving my hips a sexy little swing. Although I wouldn't mind if anyone was watching. Someone peeping through a crack in the door. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for little peeper perverts. I need to unlock two locks to get in my apartment, the second one for an impressively heavy deadbolt. The owners installed deadbolts when some old biddy in the building demanded them. At the time, I thought the biddy was a demented old fool, but now that I have the big lock, I like it. There's something very secure about being inside a room knowing a deadbolt is set. Even so, that's another thing that pisses me off. Why should I need a heavy lock to feel secure? Why should I need to protect myself? Why are there so many sickos in this world? I'm inside, I close the door behind me, I put away my coat and purse, I turn the deadbolt--clunk. There's a note on the table from Jessica. Jessica is my roommate. After my parents cut me off, I had to rent out the spare room to help pay the rent. And my roomie turned out to be Jessica, a timid, plain girl who shops at Penney's and almost never says a word. She spends most of her time alone in her room, frigging herself off or something. She never even gets phone calls, never says anything. Even when I see her face to face, she doesn't talk to me. As a roommate, she's a total disaster. The only good thing about her is she pays her rent on time. The note says Jessica might be late and that she has a friend coming over. She might be late? Hell, I don't even know when she usually gets in. "I gave Darlene a key, so you don't need to stay if you don't want to." Jessica knows I like to go out at night, but the way my feet hurt, I could use a night off. And a girl's night in doesn't sound like a bad idea. Besides, it would be nice to finally meet one of Jessica's friends. But first I want to take a shower and get in my bathrobe. I kick off my shoes and stretch up high, blow the air out of my lungs, and take in a deep breath. Ah! I give my scalp a vigorous scratch, tousle my hair. It'll be great to take a shower, wash my hair, curl up on a warm couch with a magazine. All clean and warm and quiet. And meet this girl Darlene. What would a friend of Jessica's be like? Well, after all, she _is_ a friend of Jessica's. She's probably a geek. Since it's my apartment, I get the master bedroom, which has the adjacent bathroom. Jessica's bathroom is bigger and has a tub, but I prefer showers, anyway. I go into the room and look at myself in the big mirror over the sink. My hair is a mess, and my makeup is a little worse for wear. I need to wash my face. I take off my necklace and earrings, and that feels good. Now that I'm unattached, I have no rings to take off, and that feels good too! I pinch my earlobes to get the feeling back. I strip all my clothes off. I usually wash my face naked, to avoid getting water on my clothes. My ex- boyfriend thought washing my face naked was funny, but not as funny as the fact that I wash my face before I take a shower. "Why do you wash your face at the sink when you're just going to wash it again in the shower?" he would ask. The fucking moron. I used to cheat on the bastard a lot. Thinking about it, I'm surprised I spent so much time with him. He was stupid, he had an ugly, nasal laugh, and as often as not, he was a premature ejaculator. I can't tell you how many times he dropped his load all over my belly before he even got it in. If I hadn't been cheating on him all the time, I would have been one frustrated girl. I gently wash my face, rinse the soap off, and pat my face dry. I look at myself in the mirror. I like to look at myself naked, and sometimes I like other people to look at me naked too. I can be a real exhibitionist, if I'm in the right mood. I am one of those girls who can eat anything she wants and not gain weight. And I absolutely love my tits. I hold the palms of my hands under them to press them up. They don't sag much, so I can go bra-less on occasion. But they are big enough to wobble, so I don't do it much. I lean in and study my face. I've always had a good complexion--I can't remember the last time I had a zit. But there are some things about my face I don't like, like my practically non-existent eyelashes. And I wish my eyes were a deeper blue--in this light they are almost colorless gray. What I would give for Claudia Schiffer's eyes! And my hair sucks. And my lips are a little on the thin side. So I'll never be a fashion model. _C'est la vie_. I love hot showers, and turn the water up as hot as I can stand it. The bathroom steams up and I step into the stall, close the glass door behind me. The hot water feels good on my thighs, and I slowly move under the hot spray. My skin flushes pink everywhere the water touches. I lather up my hair, using too much shampoo, but that's O.K., I like the feel of lots of suds in my hair. I massage my scalp with my fingertips, working it hard, and I gently work the lather into my hair, from root to tip. My hair is all sudsy, and I massage my scalp again, and then rinse off. The hot water runs over my face and down my front. A pink flush from the hot water runs between my tits. With a washcloth, I quickly wash the rest of my body, paying particular attention to my neck, my ears, my shoulders, between my legs, under my arms. I already shaved my legs in the morning, and they still feel smooth--I won't need to shave again for another day or two. I rinse off, and I'm clean. But I don't want to get out of the shower right away. Instead, I just stand here, letting the hot water run over me, over my shoulders, on my tits, I turn and it's against my back, I turn and it's on my belly. It's hot and steamy and pleasant and nice. I stand under the hot water and I think about old lovers. The good ones. Well, not necessarily the good ones, but the memorable ones. The best ones were the kissers. Jackson, who was one hell of a kisser. He wasn't much to look at, but he sure knew how to kiss. When I'm bored I sometimes think about what the perfect man should be, and he should always kiss like Jackson. Slow, soft, teasing. He had this way of kissing my upper lip--Christ, it makes my knees weak just thinking about it! And then there was Brad--never caught his last name--who I fucked in a closet. _That_ was memorable! And Bertrand, the Swiss boy I fucked twice in his filthy apartment. And Linus, my girlfriend Alice's husband. Well, my ex- girlfriend's ex-husband. Alice divorced Linus after she found out, and she hasn't spoken to me since. And Thomas, with the amazing dick. Very long, very thick, and not very coordinated. He fucked me sore, and when the pain didn't go away, I thought he'd injured me. My gynecologist said my cervix was bruised. Jesus Christ, he bruised my goddamned cervix! Thinking about men is not a good idea. I should think about something else, or I'm going to get mad all over again. So I think about nothing. I just stand under the hot water and feel it on me. But I'm bored, so fuck it, I'm out of here. I cut off the water with a twist of the wrist. The bathroom is steamed up and I can't see a thing in the mirror. I turn on the fan and dry myself in fresh towels. I rub a circle of steam off the mirror with a towel. I look at my face centered in the circle. Damn, I look good! I pat my skin with the towel. I put lotion on my face and neck, and on my legs. I pinch my nipples and make them stand up. Whee! That feels _too_ good! Maybe after Darlene leaves tonight I'll frig myself off. I didn't do it this morning like I usually do. Twenty-four hours without a cum is too long! A long, leisurely late night masturbation session would probably do me good. I comb the tangles out of my hair, and the strands hang blonde and straight around my head. Seeing my hair straight like this reminds me how flat my hair is. I should get it done. If only I had enough money for the hairdresser. And I'd rather have bad hair than go to Supercuts. Sigh. I dry off one last time, rubbing my skin pink with fluffy towels, invigorating my skin, making it prickle. I'm cooling off, and my nipples get all goosey. I head back into the bedroom and put on a pair of men's boxers (my sleeping attire of choice). I pull on my thick, warm bathrobe, tie the belt around my waist. And now I feel warm and comfortable. I hug myself, feel the warmth. I go back out into the living room barefoot, pad-pad-pad, adjust the thermostat to 76. That should be nice. I settle down into the sofa cushions, get comfortable, and pick up a three-week-old _Glamour_. I'm looking for a good article, I remember one article a few years ago that explained how to give a good blowjob, something like that, or maybe something funny, but there's just all this shit about job interviews and I'm flipping through the pages-- Wait! I thought I saw something move out of the corner of my eye! I look around but I don't see anything. The dining room is empty. The kitchen looks empty. Someone could've ducked back into the bedrooms, they could be lurking there, waiting. But I'm probably just seeing things. I glance around one last time. I look back at my magazine but I'm thinking about what I saw out of the corner of my eye. I look around again. Still nothing. And I can't concentrate now. What if someone _is_ in the room? Hiding. Could someone be here? It's a security building, and there's a deadbolt. How could he get in? But I swear I saw something, I swear I _feel_ something. I shiver. Is someone there? I look around and strain my ears. I don't hear a thing, and I don't see a thing. Am I being paranoid? Why do I have this feeling? My skin goes to goose bumps. I put down my magazine and listen hard. I can hear my own breath, and I can hear my own heart. But there is nothing else. It is so _quiet_. How could it be so quiet? I feel a pressure, a presence. I definitely feel a presence. My heart thuds hard. I should get out of here. There's somebody in here I know it I should call somebody or I should get out of here and go next door or somewhere safe, what if it's a rapist a sick rapist? The hairs on my arm stand up and I'm afraid oh Christ I'm really afraid so afraid-- _BOOM!_ A flash of light and a roar of thunder, and the sudden downpour of rain. A storm! I exhale hard, but I'm still trembling. It's just a storm! I never liked storms when I was little, I was scared to death of them. I used to cower under my covers and cry. Now that I'm grown up, I'm over the fear. But I still don't like storms. That feeling, that feeling I felt of someone in the room, I bet I was just feeling the storm! The rain booms on the pavement, a real downpour, and there's a few more flashes of lightning. I'm relieved, there's no one in the room. It's a real doozy, this storm. I pick up the magazine again and I'm breathing too hard and I try to look through the magazine but now I'm not sure, I don't know, I'm not _completely_ relieved, the unease is still in me. I put the magazine down again and listen. I can feel it, still feel that funny presence, I still feel something, and I'm not sure if it's the storm or not. What if the uneasy feeling was from both the storm _and_ a rapist? I should check the door, make sure it is still locked--I feel a pressure, I shiver, I feel something--a loud crackle-- _BOOM!_ I jump, my heart jumps, wow, that flash was blinding close and the hissing explosion hurts my ears. My heart skips, I swear is skips and the lights go out, and it's dark. I can't believe it's so dark. What happened to the lights? I don't like this, I don't like this at all, it's dark, really dark, I don't like the dark when it's dark like this. I look around and there's dull gray light from the window but everything else is totally black. And I swear I feel something, I know it, I know it now for sure, I wasn't imagining anything, I'm sure of it, there _is_ something nearby, something in the room! But I know there can't be anyone in the room, but I swear there is someone in the room! Someone in the dark! I should hide, wait for whoever is there to leave and forget about me but I'm afraid to move in the dark, what if I run into him in the dark? Please let it not be a rapist or a killer! Oh God, something moved! I saw something move, a flicker of shadow in front of the window. There _is_ someone in the room! My heart thumps in my ears and I want to cry, someone is here in the room! And another flash of lightning, and I can see for a moment in the flash and the figure is right in front of me, right in front of me, a tall dark figure standing over me looking down at me and I'm going to die, I know I'm going to die, oh God he's huge and he's right in front of me, a big shadow of a man, and I'll be raped and killed and I scream-- _AAAAY!_ I can't help myself, and I shut up, but I can't hold it back-- _AAAAY!_--I scream again, my throat hurts I scream so hard. I don't want to be raped, I don't want to be killed! I can't stop screaming-- _AAAAY!_ And the lights flash on and I can't bare to look at my attacker, I close my eyes tight, please just leave me alone and I tense up for the attack, I hold my breath with my eyes closed tight. I wait. My heart thumps and I wait. But there is no attack. Why doesn't he attack? I can feel him, just a foot away, standing over me. I breathe once, and I screw up the courage to look. It's a woman! A dark-haired woman! Right in front of me, why is she standing so close? I can feel her breath on my face. "I am Darlene," she says. Darlene? Oh yes, of course! Jessica's friend! It's Jessica's friend. I exhale with relief. Not a rapist at all, and I can't help but laugh. "You scared me," I say, and I laugh, I laugh because it feels so good. She backs away, backs all the way back to the front door and now I can breathe again. She is tall, very tall. She has a black overcoat on, her calves are bare, I don't think she's wearing hose, and she has ruby shoes with five-inch stiletto heels. I like heels as much as the next girl, but not the real high skinny ones. How does she walk in those things? But it's a snap for her, she steps back as natural as being barefoot. Her hair is beautiful, black and lustrous, tumbling down in loose curls around her shoulders. Her lips are deep red, and they look soft and moist. And her eyes, her eyes are absolutely black. I don't think I've ever seen eyes so black. She's smiling at me, red moist lips, and she's staring, staring hard with those weird black eyes, her stare makes me want to fidget. My knee leaps uncontrollably, like a reflex, and I grab it. I'm trembling. I need to calm down. With the lights out, when I thought she was a rapist, she really gave me a scare. "So you are Virginia," she says, smiling with pearly teeth. Her voice is a soprano, sweet, high and penetrating. She unbuttons her overcoat and tosses it away, just dumping it on the floor. She's wearing an incredible sleeveless red dress, stretchy tight and very short. What party did she just come from? Where ever she was, I'll bet the boys couldn't keep their eyes off her. Her body is incredible. She has big, round tits, and her nipples are prominent, and there's no way she's wearing a bra. The scoop neckline shows a lot of cleavage. She has a flat tummy and nice round hips. She steps off to the side and paces across the room, slow, deliberate steps, her heels clicking, and she doesn't take her eyes off me. Her body almost overpowers that dress, it struggles to cling to her muscles as she moves. "With a name like Virginia, are you a virgin?" she asks. "No, I'm not a virgin," I answer. She paces along, and now I'm not sure I trust her. What kind of question was that, anyway? Am I a virgin? What kind of question is that? She laughs, a big, robust laugh. She just throws her head back and it roars out of her. She has a slim, long neck, her throat pulses with her laugh. "No, I don't suppose you are," she says. She paces almost to the far wall and stops, turns to face me. She pulls a chair from the table and leans towards me over the back of the chair, and I can look right into her deep cleavage. Her skin is smooth and brown. My leg bounces in my grip. She stays there bent over, just staring. I'm shaking, what is she staring at? She stands upright again, still looking. She runs her hands through her shiny black hair. She shakes her head and her hair tumbles around her head like a lion's mane. And that smell! I swear I smell something, her perfume or something. It's nice, a little strong, but spicy and musky and intense. A little like sweat and a little like sex. She starts pacing again, retracing her steps, crossing the room in the other direction. "Do you think I have a nice body, Virginia?" she asks. And she walks along, and she does a slow turn, turning clear around, showing me her back, which is bare in that dress, and the tight red dress clinging to her bottom. She spins clear around, and paces across the room again, watching me. "I-I was just r-reading," I stammer, and it's a stammer, I don't even know why I said it. A dumb thing to say, but I thought I should say something and I wasn't thinking. Darlene just laughs, another powerful burst from deep in her lungs. She stops near the front door, on the landing, and stands there, facing me. "Do you like my breasts, Virginia? Do you think I have beautiful breasts?" And she runs her hands all over her tits, grabbing herself and squeezing and massaging them. Wow! Her nipples are _really_ hard now. She just stares at me as she feels herself up. I can't believe I'm watching this! She crosses her arms in front of her, each hand on the opposite shoulder. With her arms crossed like that, she reminds of an Egyptian sarcophagus. But only for a moment. She flutters her eyelashes at me, like she's flirting. And she pushes the straps of her dress over her round shoulders and pulls the front of her dress down, and pulls her arms through, and now her breasts are bare. Deeply tanned, huge dark nipples. Her tits are bigger than grapefruits, and I find myself salivating at the thought of grapefruit. And not even an inch of sag. Those are the most gravity-defying tits I've ever seen. They are incredible! "I like to touch myself, Virginia," she says, and she feels her bare tits, squeezing the nipples and making them stand up obscenely. "It feels so good. Do you do this to yourself, Virginia? Do you like to touch your breasts?" I think I nod, but I'm not sure if I really do. I can't believe what she's doing, squeezing those beautiful big tits. She licks her fingers and squeezes her nipples with her slicked up fingers. She grins evilly at me, her eyes bore into me. And then she pushes her dress down, using both hands, down over the curve of her hips, rocking her pelvis back and forth until the dress falls freely to the floor. She leaves it there like a red puddle, steps out of it, and takes two steps towards me. She's only wearing her heels and a tiny red g-string. And now her scent is really strong. It's so strong it's distracting, and I catch myself just breathing it in, smelling it, letting it fill my lungs. She steps out of her panties, the little stringy thing hangs from one finger, and she drops it to the floor, and she's naked. She has a little swirl of black hair between her legs. "Look at me, Virginia," she said, her voice low and penetrating. I'm looking, I can't stop looking at her. She is incredible. I've never seen a woman like her before. I feel nervous, my nerves are singing, and I feel a trembling in my belly. I try to breathe in more oxygen, but I just get a lungful of her odor. My head doesn't feel right. "Do you want me Virginia? Do I excite you?" My legs hops up and I grab it, hold it down, but it jumps again. My head feels light, like I'm hyperventilating. The room seems to be shimmering. I don't trust my voice, I should answer her question, but what was the question?-- whoa!--she's right in front of me! Right there, I didn't even see her come forward, but there she is, not two feet in front of me, her naked hips right in front of my face, those cute black pubes just a few feet from my eyes. And she spins off to the side and sits on the couch, right beside me, and she leans right up close, her shoulder bumps mine. She's radiating a strong heat, like an overheated engine. How did she get so close, right by my side? I'm not feeling quite right, I feel woozy or something, I can't seem to concentrate. I shake my head, try to clear the haze. Darlene laughs, and her laugh is loud and powerful, a thumping sound that throbs in my ears. "Look at me, Virginia," she says, I meet her eyes, she's looking down, and I look down and she swings one leg up over the back of the couch. Wow! Her pussy is _right there!_ A prominent mound with just a trace of black hair, thick outer labia, protruding inner labia, and a gigantic clitoris all swollen and exposed. Her clit is amazing, a fat, bulging thing. And that smell! So strong it stings my nose. "Touch me, Virginia," she whispers, it's just a whisper, but her voice fills my head, resonating in my ears. I don't think I want to, I don't want to touch a woman that way, but her pussy is gorgeous, it's really gorgeous, and that clit! She rocks her hips up and spreads herself apart with both hands. Oh my God! She's all open and dewy and stinky. And she's hungry, I can tell she's hungry for me. The urge to kiss her cunt sweeps over me. I want to kiss it. All I'd have to do is lean down and put my mouth on her. I lick my fingers and get them all wet. My heart is pounding so hard, I can't hear anything but the pounding of my blood. My hands tremble, I reach out and I touch her clit, lightly, with two fingers. Darlene groans and rocks up against my hand, and I stroke it, sliding my slippery fingers all over the swollen bulb. And she arches her back up and shouts, and her body jerks spasmodically, hard, a half dozen or so violent jerks. I don't know how her luscious stink could possibly be stronger, but it is--oh, my head! I can't think! I'm about to pass out! I'm shaking, my whole body is shaking, and Darlene sits up and grabs my shoulders and pulls me to her. Her body crushes against mine, she's still jerking with her climax, I can feel it in her, and she squeezes me with powerful arms and I the air rushes out of me. Her hands run up my back, all the way up my back and she's holding my head, and she leans away a little, I look into her dark, sparkling eyes. She's beautiful, so unbelievably beautiful, those incredible black eyes. I turn my head and kiss her, and she laughs softly into my mouth, her soft lips, her voice vibrating in my mouth, and the kiss blossoms up, I wrap myself around her and she's pulling at my robe, opening the front, and her tongue presses into my mouth and she's pushing my robe off, off my arms, and she presses her body against mine, and feel her nakedness and her soft heat against me, against my breasts and belly. She struggles with my boxer shorts, yanking at them hard, pulling me around this way and that. She gets them down around my knees and I help her kick them off, and now I'm naked too, and we're kissing again, oh can she kiss! She's so hungry! Our arms all over each other. Her leg fits between my legs and she squeezes my nipples hard and Christ I can't kiss her any more, I can't do it, I'm passing out! I pull off and she comes after me with her sweet lips, but I pull away and gasp for air. "Do you love me, Virginia?" her voice is right in my head. "Tell me you love me." What a question! I gulp lungfuls of air, but I can't get enough oxygen, my lungs burn. "Tell me you love me," she growls, a loud menacing voice that scares me. Is she angry with me? "I love you I love you I love you," I say, how could I not love such a woman? And she kisses me, and it's all right, she's not angry, she sucks my tongue into her mouth, nips it with her teeth. Her hands on the backs of my legs, stroking my legs up and down and I want her to touch me, touch my sex, I stretch my legs and press up against her, and up she comes, lightly between my legs from behind, and she holds my ass, pulls me into her--oh!--she touched my anus! She rubs it with her finger, and I'm embarrassed, but she just stops kissing me and laughs and tickles my anus some more. She burrows in and she kisses my neck, kisses my neck, lips and tongue on my skin, kissing. I love that, I love it a lot and I tell her, "I love that," her tongue up and down- -oh!--I throw my head back, her tongue up and down my neck, up and down, her open mouth on my neck, she sucks, suction and hard kisses and up to my earlobe, sucking, her tongue fat in my ear, her soft hair on my cheek, and back down again, she nibbles my neck, lips and teeth, I need her closer, my love Darlene closer, my hands on her bare back, her shoulders, I pull her close, feel her hot skin on me, she is so soft, and she squeezes my breasts--oh!--her thigh works between my legs, rubbing, rubbing, I can't breathe hard enough, and I can't get close enough to her, and I'm on fire, my puss is on fire-- Ow!--ow!-- Jesus, she bit me! Hard! It hurts! But no, it's not too bad. A love bite, I'll have a hickey, but it stings, it stings a lot! I grab her head and pull her mouth hard into my neck. "Again," I whisper, but I can barely hear myself, just my own hard breath and her hard breath, her tongue slithers against my neck, into the sting of the bite, I hold her head, her soft hair in my hands, hold her tight, and her mouth opens wide, opens onto my neck, pressing hard, lips, tongue, the tips of her teeth pressing on my neck, my heart pounds, pounding in my temples, her mouth wide, sucking, her wet tongue on me, the teeth pressing my neck, pressing, harder, take me Darlene, don't tease me, "Take me Darlene!" give me your love-- Ow!--fuck!--oh God, it hurts! She's in! Tears in my eyes, Christ, I can't believe how it hurts! Her teeth inside me. I can't breath, oh God it hurts so much, I can't believe how much it hurts, and she sucks, drinking me--oh Christ, I'm cumming!--oh!--the spasms in my sex, the long liquid waves, oh God, her teeth move in and out, I'm crying, I press up into her, the waves go in and out, she sucks deeply from my neck, my sweet Darlene, I am yours! She stops! She's gone, the joyous waves still flow through me and the wet trickle down my neck and I'm filled with emptiness, I cry out, "Darlene!" and I reach for her, I can't find her, my eyes won't focus, and the beautiful climax still flows through me, and now her mouth is on my arm, I feel her beautiful touch, in the crook of my arm, she bites into my arm, the beautiful stinging pain. Lord, dear Lord! And she stops, licks the blood from my arm, her tongue bloody red, and she kisses up my arm, nuzzling into my armpit, I hold her under my wing, her soft hair on my breasts, tickling my sides, and her teeth are under my arm, sinking into the flesh under my arm, and I'm cumming again, stars drift before my eyes, and she stops again, moves to my breast, sucks my nipple, my lover sucks and pulls with her lips and tongue, so gentle, I can't breath, I can't catch my breath--oh God!--my head, my head feels light, and she kisses down my belly, tickling with her tongue, down, and I spread my legs wide and she's between my legs and she kisses me there, I touch my neck and my fingers come away covered with blood, and her long tongue licks up my sex, her lips on my clit, pursing, sucking and I'm cumming again, I'm crying, tears in my eyes, the waves, the arching waves, and Darlene opens her mouth on my pussy, her mouth wide over me, and her teeth enter the flesh of me, her mouth is on me, her teeth tear, she takes me, take me Darlene! She slurps my blood, the lovely hurt, sucking, drinking deeply, the waves, my eyes open, but it is dark, it is so dark, she drinks me, the dark waves, she draws me out, it is so dark, like night, like a hole, my love takes me in, my Darlene, my dark sweet Darlene, with black hair and eyes, it is so dark, so dark, I dream of the night, my Darlene, Darlene in the night, and darkness, blackness, Darlene, Darlene... -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /