The Lists - Chapter Two : Petra

Continuation from Chapter One - June 20, 2011

Content advisory: coarse language, oral sex, m/f sex

Recap: In Chapter One we met Crispin, an elf in charge of watching over Santa's Naughty List. Cris couldn't resist visiting one of the people on his list and getting into some naughtiness of his own. 

The bench beneath her bottom was incredibly hard. Who designed these things? Being called on the carpet was supposed to be uncomfortable for the offender. Not the witnesses and spectators.

Petra surveyed Crispin as he stood before Dewar, the head of their department. Six-two, short black hair, shoulders like a linebacker and a tight ass. Cris looked nothing like the leotard wearing pointy shoed elves pictured on the cards humans exchanged during the holiday season.

Her gaze travelled down the length of his body, ending up at Crispin’s feet. She hid a startled laugh behind her hand. Pointy toed slippers complete with bells stuck out from the bottoms of his jeans. Cocky bastard. The informal jeans and untucked shirt were bad enough, but the shoes were too much. Maybe Dewar would notice the footwear and add an extra day or two to the sentence. Oh, the things she could dream up for the naughty elf to do while he served out his punishment.

The image of Cris’ straining backside and thighs while he nailed the human replayed in her mind. She’d come into the office and found the visual feast on the monitors just as Crispin and his playmate were nearing the end of who knew how many sac sessions. Her eyes had taken in the messed sheets, pillows littering the floor and a variety of sex toys strewn around the bed. The room, and couple, looked like the aftermath of a porn movie in the making.

According to the display on the transport module, Cris had left the North Pole shortly after ten PM and Petra stood waiting for his return at eight minutes after six AM. He’d been gone long enough to go a few rounds with the voluptuous brunette. The demand she’d made of him when he returned was based on assumptions. Luckily, Crispin didn’t know how much or how little she’d seen, and she planned to keep it that way.

Dewar’s gavel smashed down on the desk and snapped Petra from her musings. The other spectators had begun to rise from their seats and file out of the room. She’d missed the judgement. Crap.

Grabbing the arm of a short redhead, she asked what sentence Dewar had given. The woman smiled and patted Petra’s hand.

“He was let off.”

“He what?” she gaped. “But how?”

“Cris is a good boy and without video evidence of what happened while he was out of the office there wasn’t much Dewar could say, or do.”

Dumbfounded, Petra thanked the woman and let her continue out of the hearing room. Well, didn’t that just screw up her plans for the weekend? Rising, she glanced over at Crispin where he stood talking with Rissa, one of the other List watchers. Had he slept with her, too? Probably, she looked just like the human tart Petra had caught him with the day before.

No matter, he was due at her place later that night to fulfill his part of their bargain.

“Speaking of which,” she chided herself. “I need to get preparations under way.”

Petra gave her honey blonde hair one final fluff as she glanced at the clock above her mantle. Two minutes to eight. Where was he? Had Crispin changed his mind about their agreement now that he was free of mistrust? Panic and suspicion rose up to choke her.

Breath coming in short gasps, heart racing, she nearly missed the subtle knock at her door. She cast a quick glance at the clock again. Eight, on the button.

“Petra?” Crispin’s voice rang out from the hallway. “It’s Cris.”

He’d come. She smirked and walked across the room to let him in. If she played her cards right, he’d keep coming until the morning bell rang. Twelve hours in her bed wasn’t too high a price to pay for his freedom, was it?

“Cris,” she greeted. Petra stepped aside, the hem of her lingerie flowing around the bottom of the door as she pulled it open wider. “You came.”

Her heart dropped a little when she looked him over. After all the effort she’d gone through with bathing, perfuming, her hair and the outfit – he’d shown up in his usual jeans and t-shirt. The same ones he’d been wearing at the hearing, minus the slippers. Thank you, small blessings.

“We had an agreement,” he noted. “I’m a man of my word.”

Crispin wandered in and she closed the door, waiting to see if he’d comment on the trouble she’d gone to for him.

Candles glittered on the mantle and side tables and lit the room with a soft, muted glow. Her favorite Mary Banilow CD played softly in the background and a trail of crimson poinsettia petals led the way to her bedroom.

“I hope you like it?” she bit her lip nervously. “I wanted to give the evening a little romance.”

He lifted a shoulder nonchalantly. A soft, resigned sigh floated over to her.

“You really didn’t have to,” he replied. “I’m not here for romance, Petra.”

“But…” she stumbled on her words.

“Listen,” he turned to face her. “You said you wanted what I gave Anna. If you were paying any kind of attention while indulging your inner voyeur, you’d know – what Anna and I did was straight up fucking. No romance. No seduction. Just wham, bam and see ya never.”

“I see.”

A long, tapered finger flipped the gossamer ruffles over her breasts. The movement held a tinge of sarcasm, if one could assign the emotion to such a thing.

“If you did,” Cris began but cut the sentence short with a sigh. “Let’s just do this. I assume your room is at the end of the petal trail?”

Petra nodded. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment but she refused to back down. Crispin, the man she’d been fantasizing about since the moment their paths had crossed outside Santa’s office, was here in her apartment. Sure, he was there because of her lie and manipulation but if he was going to be a cold bastard about it – so be it.

She followed him into the room, narrowly avoiding being snagged by the shirt Cris whipped off. The strong lines of his back bulged with each movement, recalling the way they’d flexed on the screen. If she hadn’t already been wet with anticipation, she was positively gushing now.

A light dusting of freckles scattered over the broad expanse of Cris’ shoulders and back. The monitors hadn’t shown that sexy little detail when she’d watched him fuck Anna.

Crispin dropped his pants to reveal dark green jock-style underwear. The smooth, firm globes of his ass framed by emerald straps tempted her to reach out and touch him. Rock solid muscles flexed as he shifted to toe off his jeans and step out of them.

“Do you have any toys?” he asked while turning to face her.

Petra blinked, confused. “Toys?”

“Yeah,” he smirked. “A vibrator? Dildo? Anything?

She stared at him, bewildered. “No, I figured you’d bring anything you expected to use or need.” Then it struck her. Of course he wouldn’t. Anna’s bed had been littered with sex toys when she’d gotten a look at the two of them. There was no way Crispin had taken all of that with him from the office. She blushed, “Oh. Did you... Are they something you need?”

He gave her a bland look and Petra glanced toward the bed. At the rate things were going, she’d never get him into the sac.

“I don’t need them,” he finally replied. “They’re just nice to have on hand so I can take a break while working you up to the next orgasm. I’ve got great recovery time but even I need a little rest in between.”

Cris reached out and flicked the thin strap off her left shoulder. The material draped over her breast lopsidedly before the other side joined it with another quick flick to the right strap.

The diaphanous gown slid down to pool around her waist and hips. Bared to his gaze, she stood tall beneath his scrutiny. He could look his fill, she’d seen him in action and every inch of Cris’ body was committed to memory.

A gentle touch skated across the underside of her right breast. The tip hardened instantly. Desire flooded through her, stealing her breath as she waited to see what Crispin would do next.

Stepping close, Crispin brushed a thumb over an erect nipple. Warm lips caressed her throat while one of his hands drifted down her back to cup her backside through the thin negligee.

“Relax, Petra,” he murmured between tiny kisses. “I won’t bite. Touch me. You wanted this. Take it.”

Petra crushed herself to him. Her hands slithered around to grasp at his rear, nails sinking into the naked flesh she’d admired moments ago. Emboldened by his grunt of approval, she turned her face toward Cris’ and caught his mouth in a tawdry kiss. Her teeth nipped at his lower lip when he tried to cut the tongue tangle short. If she wanted kisses, he was damn well going to oblige.

Smooth silk whispered down, caressing the curve of her thighs, the backs of her knees and calves to form a puddle at her feet. The thin cotton of Crispin’s briefs remained as the only barrier between them. They did little to disguise the burgeoning erection pressed tight against Petra’s belly. Cris might not want her but parts of his anatomy did.

Before she realized what he was doing, Crispin picked her up and climbed onto her bed. He lowered her to the coverlet and tossed off the dozen ornamental pillows until she lay flat beneath him. Petra reached up to pull him down but found her arms empty as he dropped out of reach.

Playful, teasing eyes looked up at her while he tugged the dusky pink tip of a breast into his mouth. He suckled her hard, teeth grazing over the taut flesh. His mouth released her tit with an audible pop and traveled over to its twin to lavish the same treatment on it.

“Cris,” she moaned. Her back arched, pressing more of her breast up for him to touch and taste with his mouth.

He nipped at her. “Shush.”

“Why?” she asked. He nipped at her again and Petra shut her mouth.

“Good girl,” he praised. Sitting back, Cris slid the briefs down his thighs and freed his erection. The thick length bobbed free, stretching almost to his belly button as he leaned back to remove the garment. A cocky gleam filled his wintergreen eyes when he looked down at her. Balls cradled in one hand, he tossed the underwear aside and began to slowly stroke his dick with the other. “You want this?” he asked. She opened her mouth to respond and he shook his head. “No, no talking. Show me what you want.”

Petra studied him for a moment.

Letting her thighs fall open, she reached between them and dipped a finger between the slick folds of her slit. Slowly, she coated the digit with her juices and then brought it up to her mouth. Her tongue swirled around her finger, licking the musky evidence of her desire from it while she stared at Cris.

He grinned, released his cock and slid lower on the bed. Cris’ hands snagged her legs as he moved and pulled her to the edge of the mattress. His shoulders held her thighs apart and he leaned in to kiss and nip at the soft skin bracketing his face.

The firm point of Cris’ tongue slowly slicked up the seam of her folds. He found the hooded nubbin at the apex with ease, like someone who’d been there before and was familiar with her terrain.

Crispin licked and sucked at her between playful, teasing nips. The light edge of pain was new to her. Gregory had never done anything like that to her the few times he’d coerced her into bed. More often than not she would satisfy him with a quick blow job and go merrily on her way. Sex with him consisted of a touch here, a caress there and a few minutes later he’d lay spent, snoring into the pillow beside her. Loser. Never again.

She had an inkling of what a real man could do between the sheets. Petra swore to never again settle for less than what she deserved.

Her bedmate must have sensed her distraction. With a sharp suck on her clit, Cris brought her back to the present and arched her off the bed. The intense pleasure of his mouth sealed tight against her pussy and his thick fingers shoved deep inside her hole erased any thoughts of Greg and his amateurish sexual encounters.

Petra moaned, writhing with each suck and push. A feverish need burgeoned in her belly. Tiny tendrils of heat snaked out until finally, the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced blasted through to her extremities. Bucking and screaming she was a wild thing as crest after crest rode her.

The tremors began to ease and a new sensation replaced the heat of Crispin’s mouth. He loomed over her, the thick length of his cock filling her with every glorious inch. His balls thwacked against her ass as he pushed in hard and fast.

“Fuck,” he groaned and pulled back.

Cris settled into a steady rhythm, hard and slow. With each thrust he withdrew nearly to the head and slammed inside with a low grunt. He ground against her, fucking her just as he’d done on the monitors.

She dug her nails into the flexing muscles of his back, raking them down while she arched and whimpered for more. Her thighs flexed around him, holding tight as she rocked her hips to meet his over and over.

The fire in her veins built again from a minute spark to a raging inferno of lust, need and desire. Overwhelming in its intensity, her second orgasm slammed through Petra with vicious ferocity. She came, screaming with each mind-numbing pulse. Her nails shredded Crispin’s skin with each wild arch of her back.

Tears slid from the corners of her eyes as she drifted in a blissful, satiated state. Cris’ cock ploughed into her with increasing speed. His breathing came in short, sharp gasps and his handsome face screwed up tighter into a grimace with each thrust.

“Gonna come,” he panted. “Fuck. Gonna come.”

A few more heavy shoves into her and Crispin reared back with a roar. His hips locked against her, the heat of his release filling Petra as he jerked against her.

“Anna,” he whispered.

Petra froze, certain she’d heard wrong.

Crispin placed a quick kiss on her lips and dropped to the mattress. “Fuck, Anna. You’re unbelievable.”

“Anna?” she raged. “You fucking bastard! How dare you?”

Gathering the sheets around her, Petra shoved him off the bed and glared angrily at him when he rose. His shoulders lifted and fell with suppressed laughter as he gathered his clothes and wandered to the bedroom door.

“What’s the matter, Petra?” he drawled. A smirk curved his lips and mirth glittered in his evergreen eyes. “I gave you exactly what you asked for, honey. A fast fuck. You never said I couldn’t visualize someone else while I did you.”

“You…” she gaped. “Get out, Crispin. Just… Get out.”

She caught a glimpse of his back as he left and felt a small grain of satisfaction at the wreckage she’d left behind. Explain that one to your precious Anna, asshole.

Chapter Three of The Lists will appear August 19th, 2011.

Copyright © 2011 Danielle Gavan

Danielle Gavan
Paranormal and Erotic Romance Author

Ardeur ~ Tarnishes Tiaras ~ Cursed ~ UnWrapped

Website *Facebook * Twitter

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Beau du Tout

Content Advisory: f/m/f  intercourse and oral sex

Rien stood in the doorway, one broad shoulder propped against its solid frame while he watched him patiently listening to the construction foreman on the phone. Beau held up a finger asking for another minute of his youngest brother’s patience.

“I don’t care how many more you need to hire. Get the framing done and the walls up by the end of next week or I’ll find another crew to build my house.” Beau let the foreman blah-blah a bit longer before cutting him off. “Just get it done, Mr. Smythe. No more excuses.”

Setting the receiver back in its cradle, he smiled at his brother. “What brings you by?”

“Your birthday.” Rien smiled at him and pushed off from the door frame. His shoulder length midnight hair hung wet around his bare  shoulders. Must have gone for a swim before coming to find me. “Pascale, Aimé and I pooled our resources together to find you the ultimate gifts. Come on. I left them out in the back garden.”

Beau cocked an intrigued eyebrow at his sibling. He rose from behind the antique cherry wood desk to follow him. Rien’s words rang through his mind as they walked. His brother led them through the house toward the library and the doors leading out to what had once been their mother’s garden. The ultimate gifts?

If their recent trends indicated anything about the nature of his birthday gift, he was in for an interesting afternoon. He laughed as the memory of their last offering replayed for him. A passing comment, purely made in jest, landed him with a week’s vacation – as they called it – hiking up Mount Everest in the middle of the worst storm of the season. Beau shuddered. If he hadn’t been able to call on his Satyr form – he’d have died on the mountain along with his team.

The French doors stood open and the fragrant smell of freesias filled the room as they crossed it. Large beds of their mother’s favorite flowers flanked the exit, reminding him of the beautiful, dark haired woman who’d birthed the lot of them.

First born of the du Tout children, Beauté had spent many birthdays enjoying quiet breakfasts with his mother. The other children had eventually come along and joined the fun but, even then, Emilianne du Tout had made a point of continuing the tradition until the day of her death.

Feminine laughter tinkled on the air and pulled him from his musings. He and Rien stepped into the sunlit garden and the sight that greeted him froze his foot falls. Maenad twins, in their bikini clad glory, walked toward him. 

“Your ultimate gift is a pool party?” he glanced at Rien and back at the twins. “Well, I suppose it’s better than Mount Everest but it’s certainly not ultimate.”

His brother laughed and clapped him on the back. “No. They’re your gift.” Rien gestured to the two women. “Nyxia and Xynia.”

The girls waved as they approached and Beau shook his head as a short laugh slid from him. “Maenad twins. Okay, you’re getting warmer on the ultimate thing.”

“Half succubus, Maenad twins. Pascale knows them from her school days.”

Beau listened long enough to hear the words half succubus before he tuned his sibling out and focused on the pair of women. Long legs and supple thighs met with flared hips. Flat bellies accented by matching jewels progressed to trim waists and identical pairs of full, round breasts barely covered by the triangles of their champagne colored bikini tops.

“Thank you, gods,” he muttered and kicked off his flip flops as he stepped onto the grass.

Rien laughed behind him, “Not gods, but we’ll take the thanks. Enjoy!”

The girls reached him and, judging by the waving of their hands, Rien left them to whatever they were going to do. Beau grinned. If he had his way – they’d do plenty of each other.

“Hello, ladies.”

Nyxia, according to the necklace around the twin on the left’s neck, slid her arms up around his shoulders and pressed herself against his front. Her sister moved around them and plastered her luscious curves to his behind.

“Hello, handsome,” they spoke together. “Ready to play with us?”

Laughter rumbled deep within his chest and Beau reached around to pull Xynia around to the front with her sister.

“More than ready. Let’s go down to the pool area,” he suggested. “We’ll be comfortable there.”

Each girl draped an arm around his waist as they walked back through the gardens toward the pool area and the wide loungers scattered around it. Beau reached behind as they walked and, with a quick tug, undid their bikini tops. The small patches of material glided off and fluttered to the lawn behind them.

“Do you like what you see?” Nyxia asked. The fingers of her free hand trailed over the top of her breasts, drawing his gaze to the unlined perfection of her skin.

Her nipples peaked under the gentle caress. Beau cleared his throat and turned his attention to Xynia – the dark pink tips of her breasts puckered and pointed to match her sister’s.

“I do,” he confessed. “Very, very much.”

Destination reached, Beau stretched out on a lounge chair and motioned for the women to join him. Half succubus and maenad, the twins were quite literally made for sex and exuded it from their pores as they turned to each other and, with a wink at Beau, helped each other out of their remaining clothing.

Neither girl touched the other in a sexual manner – and yet their breath shortened, moans floated softly between them and lust filled the air.

Beau adjusted himself, the tented material of his shorts clearly outlining the length of his cock. If the girls couldn’t tell how interested their little show had gotten him they needed their vision checked.

As though reading his mind, Xynia crawled onto the lounger with him and slid her hands up Beau’s lightly haired legs. Her fingers pushed beneath the dark blue hem of his shorts and he groaned as his cock jumped in response.

“Someone is eager,” Nyxia spoke from his right and he looked up as she joined them. “We like eager.”

Xynia nudged his balls and Beau hissed as she took them into her hand. Her fingers worked the delicate sac in a gentle, rhythmic motion.

“We also like hard, thick cocks,” she purred. “Nyx, do you think he has what we like?”

Nyxia scraped her nails down Beau’s abs and hooked the band of his shorts when she reached it. Stretching the elastic, she pulled the thin material down and freed the thick length of him.

“He does,” she moaned and waited for her sister to remove her hand before pulling the shorts down to expose him fully.

Letting the girls strip him of his shorts, Beau waited until they had him naked before pouncing on them. He rolled Xynia beneath him, pinned her to the lounger and ducked his head to capture a taut peak between his teeth.

A surprised gasp and moan of pleasure from Nyxia stopped him instantly and clued him in to something about the twins. What he did to one, the other felt. To confirm his suspicion, Beau slid a hand down between himself and Xynia. He ground his palm against the heat of her slit and her sister rewarded him with a throaty moan as her head fell back against her shoulders.

“Interesting,” he muttered and replaced his palm with the pad of his thumb on Xynia’s clit. Each slow circle he drew over the hardened nub pulled a gasp and moan from the other woman.

“He’s figured,” Nyxia moaned and Xynia replied, “Us out.”

Beau grinned and withdrew his hand. He stretched back out between them on the thick blue cushion and crooked a finger at Xynia.

“Come,” he ordered. His erection bobbed above his abdomen and he circled it with his hand as she moved closer. Her grip replaced his and stroked it slowly as she straddled him.

Xynia slowly rotated her hips in small circles as she lowered onto him. The molten heat of her clenched around his cock as her muscles rippled and pulled him deep inside. By the time she’d fully impaled herself all three of their chests rose and fell rapidly, breath sawing in and out as they held still for a moment and adjusted to each other.

“Nyxia,” he panted and crooked a finger at her. “Come, let me taste you.”

He smiled at the wicked gleam in her eyes as she straddled him and rested her bottom on his chest. The sweet, musky perfume of her arousal caused his mouth to water and he cupped her ass to pull her closer. His tongue darted out to lick along the seam of her slit. Nyxia’s juices coated his tastebuds, drawing a moan of pleasure from him as he pushed between her folds and lapped at her with long strokes.

Covered by the sisters, Beau thrust his hips up with each rock of Xynia’s hips while his mouth worked against Nyxia’s pussy, licking and sucking at the tender flesh as she ground against him.

Lust, hot and potent, surged through him as the sisters rode him. Dual firebrands of sexual energy licked across his senses, awakening his satyr nature with a growl vibrating from his chest that pulled gasps of pleasure from the twins.

Cries of yes, yes, yes…rang out in stereo through the garden. The echoes of flesh on flesh on flesh a symphony blending with the chirrup of birds and the rustle of foliage. Beau absorbed it all and pushed the beauty of their sensual melody into his lovers.

Xynia bucked wildly, her cunt clenching him as the first flutters of her orgasm took root and grew with each slide down his erection. The gyration of Nyxia’s hips against his mouth intensified as she teetered over the edge and toppled into bliss with her sister.

His own orgasm tingled along the length of Beau’s spine, bowing his back as it raced toward his groin. Nyxia moved off him but he was too forgone to notice as he bucked up into Xynia. Stars burst behind his eyelids as he arched off the lounger and shouted his release into the warm afternoon air.

The girls bracketed him when he regained enough sense to pay attention to such details. Warm breath feathered over his chest, their arms and legs tangled with his.

Beau smirked, “That gives new meaning to having your cake and eating it too.”

“I want to be the cake next time,” Nyxia giggled from his left.

“Definitely,” he grinned. “My birthday isn’t over yet, sweetheart.”

∞

If you missed any of our previous posts and would like to catch up, you can purchase Everything Erotic Volumes I to VII anthologies as eBooks for only $2.99 each! Want it in print? Everything Erotic Volumes I-III is now available in paperback for $12.95.

Copyright © 2011 Danielle Gavan

Danielle Gavan
Paranormal and Erotic Romance Author

Ardeur ~ Tarnishes Tiaras ~ Cursed

Website *Facebook * Twitter

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Deadly Beauty (An Erotic Vampire Romance)

Content Advisory: Contains scenes of violence and f/f sex. 

 Deadly Beauty

She prepared to step onto the small stage, adjusting her breasts in the cups of her bra, pulling at the tiny strips of elastic of her black lace panties. The stench of cigarette smoke and stale alcohol drifted up to her, making her sick to her stomach.

“And now please welcome to the stage…Calypso Dreams!”

Like the name of the club she worked in, ‘The Paradise Bar’, her stage name also carried a tinge of irony. The name was fake, of course. Her real name, Nadine Shepard, sounded nowhere near glamorous enough for the dive she danced in.

Nadine stepped onto the stage just as the girl on before her—a tall, small-breasted woman with too many tattoos—stepped off. The other dancer was not to Nadine’s taste; she liked her women to have curves—breasts and an ass—not all straight lines and angular corners. 

The other woman, ignorant to Nadine’s thoughts, gave her a brief smile before brushing past.

Nadine strutted out, her long legs looking endless in the gold, strappy three inch stilettos. A haze of smoke drifted up in front of her; the smoking ban laws flouted with both disregard and disrespect. She tried not to squint in the sudden bright light, knowing her eyes would adjust within a few moments. Sometimes she wished they didn’t. It would be easier to pretend she was somewhere else if she didn’t have to see the punters sitting in the front row, all trying to hide their erections beneath long coats or crossed legs.

The Paradise Bar wasn’t a classy joint. Located in London’s East End, in the dark and seedy back streets of Whitechapel, it was never going to attract the best clientele. Instead, the bar attracted London’s finest—older, fat men, with saggy jowls and sad eyes, and skinny young lads sporting sleeves of faded tattoos. Whatever their background, they were all here for one thing; to watch the girls dance.

 

Taking pride of place, center stage, a silver pole joined the floor to the ceiling. Nadine headed over to it.

A couple of shots of cheap vodka, as she got ready, had been needed to stop her from running, screaming from the club. She knew the other girls did stronger stuff—coke, crack, meth—but she didn’t plan on going down that route. It was an easy trap to fall into. They started the drugs to cope with the job, but then they needed the job to pay for the drugs. A downward spiral.

Nonchalant disinterest met Nadine’s appearance on stage. One guy in the back started to clap, but when he realized no one else joined in, he immediately stopped. She cast her gaze across the room to catch the clapper in her sight, but something else caught her eye.

Her forehead creased; a faint, almost imperceptible movement and her eyes narrowed. Someone sat at the back of the bar, someone sitting alone.

A woman?

 

Sure, plenty of women liked strip joints. Nadine had watched groups of them giggle and scream from behind their hands, as though watching strippers was the most exciting and dangerous thing they had ever done—as though it somehow made them more interesting. But normally the women were in groups, dragged along by business men in suits, and they always went to classier establishments.

Nadine’s eyes did not leave the lone woman as she reached up with her hands and pulled herself up onto the pole. She wrapped her slender legs around the cool metal and let go. Her head tilted back, her long, dark hair brushing the floor. She stretched her legs out to show off her strong thighs, and arched her back, knowing her breasts appeared round and full in the black lace balcony bra.

Taking hold of the pole again, Nadine opened her legs wide and slid back down, the pole pressed between her thighs.

She twisted herself onto her flat stomach and pushed her round ass into the air, straightening her legs in the high stiletto heels. Her legs were still spread, only a thin piece of black lace covering her pussy.

The music continued to thump. She looked up, swinging her hair out of her face. The solitary woman was still there. Still watching her.

They were all watching her, the sensible part of her mind told her. They paid good money to watch her.

Yet still, there was something about the woman that set off Nadine’s well-honed sense of danger.

That evening, on her way to work, Nadine had been certain she was being followed. She couldn’t help but wonder if the woman had something to do with the feeling. She didn’t start until ten, so night had long since fallen when she started her walk from the flat she shared with two other working girls. London’s East End streets were never safe, but yet she had gotten used to them. Maybe she’d grown too blasé about the dangers they held. Yet that night she’d been certain eyes were on her, had even thought she heard footsteps follow her down the dark alley leading to the club. Each time she spun around, the street had been empty.

Now she had the same impression again; the intense sensation of someone watching her.

Trying to push the feeling away, Nadine continued her routine.

The punters approached her to give her tips. Pushing tens and twenties into the small strips of material she still had covering her. Experience had taught her how to avoid the ones after more, the punters who tried to tweak her nipple or slip a finger along the crotch of her g-string.

With skill, she whipped the notes out of her bra and slipped them into the side of her panties. Then she reached behind her and quickly unhooked her bra, dropping the lingerie to the floor and freeing her breasts.

She cupped her tits in her hands, pushing her already ample cleavage together. She bent over to give the punters in front a closer view of her breasts and the men behind a view of her ass. She knew they would be thinking about standing behind her, fucking her in that position. In front of her, the woman still stood at the back of the bar. Still watching.

A long time had passed since Nadine last had sex with a man. It wasn’t that she didn’t like sleeping with men, more that she didn’t like men. Too much time spent in places like this simply put her off.

She glanced up to see the woman had left. No, she hadn’t gone, she had simply moved to a different position on the other side of the bar. How did she get there so fast? One minute she had been sitting in one spot, the next she was standing across the room. Nadine didn’t think the woman had left her vision long enough to move without her noticing.

The woman stood closer now. Red hair framed her face, but her eyes were dark, strangely dark.

Nadine knew enough about sex. She read the lust in those strange black eyes. But she saw something else as well, a different need, a different desire; one Nadine couldn’t put her finger on.

Something else was strange. Here was a beautiful woman in a bar filled with testosterone pumped, sex crazed men, and yet not a single man had hit on her. No one offered to buy her a drink; no one even tried to talk to her. Even the other girls left her alone. Not one of them approached her, offering a private dance or more.

Nadine looked up again to discover the woman had gone, vanished as though she had never been there. But in the moment just before she disappeared, Nadine recognized the look in the woman’s eyes.

It was hunger.

Nadine did not join the other girls for drinks after work. They hadn’t invited her and she had no wish to go. She didn’t care that she was an outcast among her peers; she had no interest in socializing with them.

At two in the morning, she left the club. She had changed into a sweater, leggings and fake UGG boots; an outfit completely opposite to the slutty clothes she wore for dancing.

Her steps sounded almost silent as she walked down the alley, toward the main road. Ahead of her, the headlights of cars passed across the exit and groups of young people headed home after a night out. Their laughter floated over to her, becoming louder, before drifting down the street. She heard the sound of breaking glass as someone dropped a bottle. The scent of stale urine violated her nostrils and she turned her head to one side, hoping to avoid its source.

Suddenly, the figures of two men—one large and bulky, the other shorter—blocked her view of the road ahead.

Her heart started to pound, her breath caught in her chest. This wasn’t good. Something like this was never good.

The smaller one nudged the larger man with his elbow. “Look what we’ve got here,” he smirked. “It’s one of the whores from the club.”

“You working out of hours, love?” the bigger guy leered. “Fancy a three-way?”

Nadine kept her head down, not making eye contact, hoping they would get bored and go away.

“Oi! Love, I’m talking to you,” the big one continued.

“Look, she thinks she’s too good for us,” said the smaller guy. “Fucking slut.”

They stood only a few feet from her now. She could walk around, try to side step them, but she decided to walk straight through them. Men were like dogs and horses—they could sense your fear.

As she attempted to walk through, the big one grabbed her elbow. She tried to shake him free, but he held her fast.

“I don’t want any trouble,” she said, her voice sounding forced.

“Ha! Your type are all about trouble.” The small one’s voice was full of disgust.

“So you going to do us a special rate then?” said the big one. “Two for the price of one?” He winked at his friend.

“Please…”

The man reached out and grabbed her breast beneath her sweater, his fingers painfully gouging her skin, despite the thick material.

“Hey! Got the fuck off of me!”

But he didn’t stop there. Using his grip on her breast, he pulled her toward him. He shoved his hand beneath the waist band of her leggings, delving down between her thighs.

That was when she knew this was going to end badly.

Just let them do what they want, she told herself. It’s not much past what you do anyway. Lay still and play nice and you will walk out of this alive.

Yet despite the sensible dress down, her body didn’t want to be compliant. She snatched his hand away, and then, when he came in for a second go, she drew back her fist and punched him full in the face.

Pain speared up through her arm and she clutched her fist, but the man backed off, his own face clutched in the palm of his hand, blood pouring between his fingers.

“You fucking bitch…”

Seemingly from out of nowhere, the metallic glint of a blade appeared and all around Nadine the world stopped. This wasn’t kids messing around anymore. Rape was possibly one of the better things that could happen to her.

“Please…” she said again, stepping away.

But he kept walking forward.

“Blake…” the smaller guy warned, knowing his friend had taken things too far. “Leave it.”

Blake was past listening.

Nadine turned to run, but he lunged at her, knocking her to the ground. She hit the ground, her chin slamming painfully on the concrete. Her teeth jarred together, narrowly missing her tongue. The stench of urine poured over her; ammonia combined with her fear and pain, making her eyes tear.

The knife’s cold metal pressed against the skin of her throat. Blake sat astride her, his weight pinning her down.

For a moment, he withdrew the knife and her heart leaped in hope, thinking he might back off. Then he plunged it deep beneath her ribs and her breath exploded from her lungs. Nadine gasped, winded. She felt a strange sucking sensation as he pulled the knife out and stabbed her again.

His erection pressed hard against her leg. Disbelief tinged the dull knowledge that she had been stabbed. The pain hadn’t hit her yet, but she knew it was coming.

Suddenly, Blake lifted off her and flew through the air, hitting the wall. Nadine heard the sickening crunch of neck bones breaking and the thud as he hit the ground. The other man squeaked in fear and turned and ran.

What was happening?

A pair of low heeled boots appeared in front of her face. Nadine found the strength to take her gaze up the curve of brown leather and the voluptuous body above, to see the person they belonged to.

The woman from the bar.

 

Nadine thought she should be more surprised, yet part of her had been expecting this woman’s reappearance, however strange the circumstances.

But she was dying; the world fading away. Her blood covered the ground beside her and soaked into the front of her sweater.

Was this how her life ended? After all the years trying to come to terms with the rejection of her parents, the fear and loneliness after being bumped from foster home to foster home. All of that pain and effort and sacrifice, only to die in a stinking alley.

The woman kneeled down beside her, seemingly unconcerned by the blood soaking into the blue of her tight jeans. She reached a pale hand out to Nadine. Long and elegant fingers gently touched Nadine’s cheek.

Nadine was cold, but this woman was colder.

With skin as white as bone and those dark eyes, she was frighteningly perfect, as an angel or a demon might look. No rouge tinted her full lips. Her hair framed her face in a mane of fire, its hue so startling against the lack of color in her skin.

She should have been terrified, yet this woman’s presence ebbed calm into Nadine’s tortured and dying soul.

Her face drew closer. Nadine’s breath stuttered in her chest, believing the woman was going to kiss her. Just the idea of having this stunning, strange creature’s mouth against her skin was enough to drown her fears of dying.

But her lips did not touch Nadine’s. Instead, they brushed against the soft velvet of her ear and whispered, “I can save you. All you have to do is say yes.” An accent Nadine couldn’t place touched her voice.

This wasn’t just a simple offer to save her life.

Who was this woman? What was she?

“All you have to do is say yes,” the woman said again.

Her strength faded, soaking into the ground as effortlessly as her blood. She occupied the moment before she dropped into a deep sleep, her limbs heavy, her mind thick. Could she even open her mouth to give her answer? Did she have the strength?

Her lips felt dry. As she opened her mouth to give her answer, the skin stuck together. Using Nadine’s own blood, the woman wet her finger and moistened Nadine’s mouth.

“Yes,” Nadine croaked. “Yes.”

She moved too fast for Nadine’s weary eyes to register. She saw a flash of white fangs elongated and horrifically sharp. Then the woman’s mouth gripped her throat.

Fresh pain speared through her, but the sensation seemed distant and faint, as though happening to someone else.

Nadine sank into the black.

She woke with a ferocious hunger. Like a baby seeking a nipple, she clawed out of the darkness, looking for something to satisfy her need. Her mouth met cool flesh, but she sensed the flow of warmth beneath.

Something about her had changed. Acting purely out of instinct, she sunk her teeth into the offered skin.

Fluid flowed, its copper warmth somehow familiar.

She fed with a frantic need, drawing the thick liquid over her tongue and down her throat. With each swallow, her strength regained.

Finally she broke free and Nadine looked up.

In front of her sat the strange woman from the bar.

The woman’s beauty stole Nadine’s breath. The red hair misted like a halo around her face. Her dark eyes had a depth to them which was both beautiful, yet terrifying. She smiled at Nadine and from somewhere in the smile came the flash of white.

There was no escaping the woman’s sensuality; her curves, from the bow of her mouth to the swell of her breasts. Nadine only wanted to touch her.

Memories, confused and disjointed, came back to her. She was going to die and this woman had saved her.

 “You saved my life,” Nadine said, her voice raw and hoarse.

The woman shook her head. “I gave you a new one.”

Nadine felt different; stronger, sexier, and her body buzzed with life.

She took in her surroundings. Together, they sat on a huge, four poster bed. Rich, sumptuous materials and fabrics were spread out beneath them. Expensive furnishings and dark mahogany wood adorned the room.

“What did you do to me?” she asked. “What are you?”

“I am a legend, a myth. I am something your kind does not believe in.”

“My kind..?”

“Humankind.”

Her heart should have caught in her throat, but Nadine barely felt it beating. All of her seemed different. She could breathe, but she no longer felt the need to, and the blood running through her veins was no longer her own.

“What are you?” she asked again.

“A vampire. And soon, so will you be.”

Her mind swam. This couldn’t be happening. Yet a part of her accepted what this stranger told her.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“You are Nadine.” The way she said her name was like tasting something exotic.

“Yes, I am. But who the hell are you?”

“My name is Adrienne Gellespie. I am more than four-hundred-years-old and I have been searching for you my whole life.”

Nadine shook her head, scared to look at the striking woman sitting in front of her. Yet her eyes were drawn. Her beauty had something magnetic about it and Nadine found herself unable to turn away.

“I don’t know what to believe,” she whispered.

“Believe what is real.”

Adrienne leaned forward, her long fingers tracing the line of Nadine’s lips. Nadine opened her mouth and the cool fingers slipped inside. Her tongue darted, touching Adrienne’s fingertips, her lips closing around them.

All she wanted to do was reach out and touch her pale skin.

“You are so beautiful,” Adrienne said. “The moment I saw you, I had to have you.”

“Have me?”

“In every sense of the word,” her accent rolled. “You are mine now. I created you, so you are forever in my servitude. I am your mistress, but I will also be your protector, your friend, your lover.”

Nadine couldn’t hide the cold thrill of lust racing through her, converging from her pussy, up through her breasts, finally releasing in the fullness of her mouth. She knew she should be fighting this, yet it seemed she was incapable. Whatever this woman wanted, she would do.

Slowly, Adrienne moved toward her, her mouth parted. The lethal slithers of her fangs protruded and they filled Nadine with fear. Was this really happening?

The vampire’s mouth found hers and the kiss was sweet and deep. Their tongues met and Nadine’s tongue tentatively touched the fangs that had so filled her with terror. The sharp tooth nicked her tongue, the few drops of blood causing Adrienne to moan. She kissed her deeper, drawing Nadine’s tongue deep into her mouth, sucking on the blood.

Adrienne’s hand cupped her breast, the cool fingers sliding across the hard nub of her nipple.

Now it was Nadine’s turn to moan and her own hand reached out, pulling this strange and beautiful creature toward her.

Adrienne pulled at her own shirt, ripping the buttons and exposing her flesh. She wore no bra. Her breasts were full and heavy and perfectly round, her nipples dark against the white of her skin. Nadine’s mouth fell to them; first one and then the other, her tongue circling, her teeth grazing.

A gentle push to the top of her head sent Nadine lower, across Adrienne’s flat stomach.

She wriggled out of the tight jeans, revealing a scanty pair of panties. Nadine headed down. The vampire was bare, not a single hair to spoil the soft, willing flesh.

Nadine breathed in her scent through the lace, her tongue probing against it, feeling her moisture beneath. Adrienne moaned and pushed her pussy against Nadine’s tongue, encouraging her.

“I am your mistress now,” she whispered from above. “You will pleasure me and love me, and I will do to you in return.”

Nadine pulled the wet lace to one side. Her tongue slipped inside Adrienne’s moist folds, slowly licking up toward her sensitive nub. She gave it a gentle flick with her tongue and repeated the motion.

Adrienne squirmed with pleasure, her own hands touching her full breasts, squeezing her nipples into hardened peaks. The sight made Nadine’s own body tighten; her cunt convulsing.

She went back to her clit and licked, faster now. She pushed a finger inside Adrienne’s slick pussy, and her tight muscles gripped and relaxed against her digit.

“Wait,” Adrienne gasped. “Together, we need to come together.”

The vampire sat up, her red hair almost burning, her dark eyes flashing with want.

Quickly, she helped Nadine remove the rest of her clothes and then Adrienne climbed between Nadine’s legs, paying back the pleasure.

The coldness of her tongue was a shock on Nadine’s hot skin. Adrienne pushed her tongue deep inside and Nadine gasped. Never before had she experienced such intensity. Whatever Adrienne had done to her had fired her sexuality to another level. Adrienne feasting upon her as no one else had before—as if she were starving. Her whole mouth covered Nadine’s mound. Her lips pulled and sucked at Nadine’s labia, her tongue hardened and thrusting. When her cool finger found Nadine’s clit, rubbing it in firm circles, Nadine’s head swam with pleasure.

Adrienne lifted her mouth, her lips wet with Nadine’s juices. “I want you to taste me again,” she said.

 

Carefully, she turned her body until her pussy hovered above Nadine’s face. She buried her face back between Nadine’s thighs, intending for them to lick the other to climax.

Nadine took the firm flesh of Adrienne’s peachy bottom in her hands and pulled the vampire’s cunt down toward her mouth.

Adrienne tasted so sweet, unlike any woman Nadine ever had. She took the delicate slips of skin between her teeth, nibbling gently. Adrienne ground down, encouraging Nadine deeper and Nadine hardened her tongue, pushing it deep and curling around to hit the sensitive fleshy spot on the inside of Adrienne’s wall. The vampire groaned in delight, the vibration sending a thrill through Nadine’s clit.

Their orgasms mounted, fierce and strong, building deep inside. Just as she was about to come, Adrienne turned her mouth and sunk her fangs into the inside of Nadine’s thigh.

The orgasm convulsed within her, the waves pummeling her over and over. She screamed out loud with its force and her whole body jerked as the aftershocks came. Adrienne moaned as her own orgasm wrapped around her, holding her in its embrace.

 

They lay, spent together, wrapped within each other’s arms.

Was it magic Adrienne held over her, something to do with what she had done? Nadine didn’t care. All she knew was that in this woman’s arms, she finally felt peace. She was home.

“Now what?” Nadine asked. “Am I what you say I am? Am I like you?”

Adrienne shook her head. “Not yet. To be like me, first you must kill.”

She didn’t know how she felt. Her brain and conscience told her this was wrong, that she wasn’t born to be a killer, but the excitement and need rising up inside her had a whole other plan.

“I have someone I want you to meet,” Adrienne said, her dark eyes flashing wickedly.

She rose from the bed, and still naked, opened the bedroom door and walked from the room.

Within moments she was back. Held in one hand and carried like a naughty puppy by the scruff of his neck, was the smaller man from the alley. Blake’s friend.

“You won’t be properly turned until you make your first kill,” Adrienne said. “If you want us to stay together, you must kill him.”

She dropped the man and he scrabbled away, staring at the two naked women with a mixture of lust and terror.

“Do you want us to be together?” Adrienne asked again.

She wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.

Nadine looked down at the man at her feet. Moving faster than she ever thought possible, she fell on the man, pinning him to the floor. He shrieked like a caught rabbit.

Above her, Adrienne let out a gasp of pleasure.

Nadine turned her head to the man beneath her.

And bit.

~*~
The novella, Deadly Beauty, is available to buy fom Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.

When erotic dancer, Nadine, is attacked and stabbed in a dark alley, the last thing she expects is to be ‘saved’ by lesbian vampire, Adrienne.

While Nadine had sworn off men as a human, now a newly turned vampire, she struggles with her new desire for both sex and blood. And when River, a sexy, but dangerous male vampire, is thrown into the mix, Nadine has to wonder if she really wants to be with another woman for the rest of eternity...

(Warning; contains scenes of explicit sex, including lesbian, anal, and ménage, and some violence. Intended for an over 18 reader only.)

 

If you missed any of our previous posts and would like to catch up, you can purchase Everything Erotic Volume I, Volume II, Volume III, Volume IV, an Volume V anthologies as ebooks for only $2.99 each! Want it in print? Everything Erotic Volumes I-III is now available in paperback for $12.95.

Copyright © 2011 M.K. Elliott
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.