Lucien put the firm, ripe fruit between his teeth and drew it down her sticky slit, his eyes peering over her mound, because he found the ecstasy on her face to be beautiful and arousing. She arched her neck, bringing her finger to her mouth and biting down on the knuckle in sweet anguish.
How exquisite she was, with her tawny skin shimmering with the buttery coating, her breasts as tempting as Eve’s apple. Mesmerized, he gazed longingly at the streams and tributaries of the blue veins in her breast. The slumbering Beast inside of him stirred. He squeezed his eyes, willing it back to sleep. With his tongue, he pushed the honey-drenched strawberry inside of her and then sucked it back into his mouth. She writhed, clutching her breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingers, and his prick ached at the sight of her touching herself.
The aromatic scent of her musk clung to his lips, and he inhaled her desire deeply into his airless lungs. Oh, to be mortal again - to know her taste. How unimaginably wondrous it would be, for a single precious moment to make love to her in the pale light of the morning. But it would be a wish unfulfilled, he knew; a dream just beyond his grasp. Her body trembled as his flattened tongue lapped at the sticky goodness concealed in her secret garden. She panted and moaned, raising her hips from the table, supplicating him to take her.
Now was the time, he decided. Lucien rose from the chair, scraping it across the floor with a dull sound as he nudged it out of his way. As he stood, his anxious cock brushed her pussy, the head nearly dipping into her slippery fissure. A milky drip of cum oozed from his slit and, along with it, his last drop of self-control. He grasped her hips, rolling her onto her stomach. Summer’s feet slid to the floor, and she backed her small firm bottom up against his loins. Snatching another handful of soft butter, Lucien greased her flushed cheeks, rubbing the fatty cream in wide circles. Summer arched her back, strutting her fine ass before him like a queen cat.
His appetite had been teased for long enough. He would never be more ready. She would never be more ready.
Lucien buttered his cock, “It is time to feed my starving prick.” “Oh holy…Mmmm,” she cried, mumbling something unintelligible into the tabletop as Lucien pushed his oily cock into her pussy. Her vagina felt as narrow as the eye of a needle as he squeezed into her tight sheath. She bucked against him, the thick butter making a slurping sound as he worked his prick inside of her. His cock glided smoothly along the satiny surface, and he increased the intensity of his strokes with ease.
Their bodies seemed as one as she rocked in perfect tempo with him. She tossed her hair to one side, and Lucien’s gaze hovered over the thick vein that throbbed along the curve of her neck. The Beast growled, low and menacing. Even in this most private of moments it would not let him rest.
He thrust harder, beating the Beast into submission. The rickety table trembled and groaned. Summer stretched her arms out grasping the sides of the table. So fierce was his pounding that he felt himself lifting her off of her feet. The sound of her flesh slapping against the table, and the quiver of her buttocks as he rammed his cock into her nearly drove him to madness. His pace quickened, each penetration punctuated by short grunts that rumbled from his throat. Were they from him or the Beast; he didn’t know.
He reached around her hip and rolled a finger over her blossomed clit. The greasy butter mingled with her juice, and Lucien coated her tiny jewel with the slick mixture. It was like a smooth, polished stone beneath his fingertip. She responded to him like no other. Her warm willingness was completely human and such solace for his dark loneliness. Summer squealed and rose up on her tip toes, tilting her pelvis. “I love the way you fuck me, Lucien,” she cried, grinding against his loaded cock. Her approval ignited inside of him, spurring him on. He fucked her with complete abandon, jack-hammering his cock into her so ferociously he had to grip her hips lest she buck away.
Summer’s legs began to shake. A deep crimson flush crept up her back as her muscles strangled his shaft. Her small, puckered hole winked at him as he watched the blur of his prick invading her pussy. Lucien wet his finger with her juices and pressed it to the opening. Summer did not draw back, but instead entreatingly pushed against him. She wanted penetration in her darkest of places, and he was happy to oblige. Carefully, his finger entered the shadowy tunnel, where he felt the rhythm of his cock in her pussy through the thin strip of flesh. He matched the rhythm, fucking her with both his finger and his cock. Her guttural cries and obscenities echoed through the room as she hurtled towards climax. He felt himself carried along with her orgasm, as her tiny body levitated from the table from the force of it. Her pussy squeezed his prick with a stranglehold. He felt the pull and ripple of her muscles milking his cock, and his whole body trembled and jerked from the force of the orgasmic fluid rocketing through his prick. He clutched her hips, his nails denting her flesh, and with one final, satisfying thrust, he showered her womb with ejaculate.
Awash in a sense of euphoria and bliss, he dreamily rocked against her, his spent, half-hard cock still nestled inside of her. He didn’t want to leave her because, for this brief moment, the Beast was still, and Lucien felt nearly alive once more. As a seed that had been planted in the damp spring earth, so was the seed of love planted in his heart, taking root, and stretching to be nurtured by the warm rays of Summer.
Lucien collapsed on top of her, sandwiching her between him and the table. For a long moment, he laid there, filling his lungs with short bursts of air, too spent to move, his cock becoming flaccid and slipping from the warmth of her pussy.
Summer’s body began to heave beneath him so that at first he believed she was sobbing, but then he heard chortles of laughter. Lucien rolled off of her, and she turned her body to face him.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, knitting his brow.
“Ahhhh, nothing,” she sighed, biting at her cheeks to hold back her giggles. “That was just fan-fucking-tastic, that’s all,” she exclaimed, kicking her legs and laughing.
The bright cadence of her laughter was a light shining brightly in the blackness of his existence, and he adored the sound. With her, he felt unbroken - purged of the curse that oppressed him.
“What’s for breakfast?” Summer joked.
“Breakfast? We haven’t even gotten to our midnight snack yet!”
After a welcome shower, Lucien led her by the hand to the antique Chinese bed. They crawled through the opening onto the cool sheets. Through the night, they made love - tender and unhurried - in the cozy den of the marriage bed.
Summer drifted to sleep wrapped in the pallid arms of the vampire, Lucien du Charmont.
Summer Solstice – Private Dick
When Summer awoke, she found herself back in her own bed, in her own apartment. Try as she might, she had no recollection of how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was drifting off to a dreamless sleep. For a moment, she wondered if last night had ever happened at all, but the satisfaction tingling through the cells of her well-fucked body and the ache between her legs confirmed that it had. The light streaming through her windows cast long shadows in the room, and she knew that it was well past noon. She called out Lucien’s name, but was certain he wouldn’t answer.
Summer was disappointed to find that he’d gone missing. He had a way of coming and going that was very unsettling. Now that she was alone once more, the misgivings about her relationship with Lucien returned with a vengeance. The affair had taken a direction that she had not anticipated. She had begun to miss him when he wasn’t around. She craved his company and his touch. When she wasn’t with him, her thoughts were on him. Her growing need for him frightened her. She felt herself pulled deeper and deeper into his life, and found she didn’t want to leave. The vampire had her in his control as surely as Renfield had succumbed to Dracula’s mesmerizing mind.
This was not a good position for her to be in, she reasoned. Her usual common sense simply flew out the window where Lucien was concerned. Her heart sank like an anchor to the bottom of her stomach when sh
e realized the futility of this relationship. Sure, she could play at this for a little longer, keep telling herself she could walk away anytime she wanted, but at what cost? No matter how she turned it around in her head, it all came down to the fact that he was a vampire - an immortal.
Perhaps the Vicious Ones had it right. This was an impossible and ill-advised situation. At some point, old age and death would creep in like a thief in the night, and steal her away from her vampire lover. She would, one day, just be a distant memory to him, another in a long list of lovers spanning hundreds of years.
Their obvious differences cast a sprawling, dark shadow over her heart.
By the time she had showered and dressed, she knew what she must do.
***
“Good afternoon, Ms. Stone.”
“Hiya, Ed,” Summer spoke to her doorman through the speaker.
“Ed, I am going to be hanging out in my apartment for a while, sort of a little vacation. I really don’t want to be disturbed, so if you would please tell anyone who asks for me that I am out of town. Right now, the only exceptions to that would be Melody, who you already know, and my cousin from Paris who is in town…a tall fellow, long brown hair streaked with blond, handsome, speaks with a French accent. Just those two, no one else, okay?” “Sure thing, Ms. Stone.” She could hear him clicking his ballpoint pen as he spoke. “I’ll write it in the pass-on book so the other guys know about it too. Have a nice day, Ms. Stone, and I’m sorry to hear about the ruckus over the dead guys.” “Thanks, Ed.” She released the button and rummaged in her jacket which hung over the back of the chair. Did he just say dead guys, plural? Summer thought. Nah, I probably heard him wrong. She extracted her cell phone from her jacket pocket. Turning it on, she found sixteen missed calls from Melody with accompanying frantic messages.
I’d better call her. I didn’t even say goodbye the other night…just disappeared. She is probably freaking out.
Melody answered on the first ring. “Where the hell have you been? I have been trying to call you for hours! Summer, something terrible is going on.” Melody didn’t even allow Summer a chance to speak. “Did you know they found two more men floating in the river?”
“What? Two more men?”
“It gets worse—they were both wearing T-shirts that you signed! They are calling these the Eleanor Rigby murders because the corpses are all found wearing ‘Only the Lonely’ shirts. It’s all over the news, haven’t you seen it?”
“Actually, Mel, I was with Lucien last night, so, no, I didn’t see it. What is happening? None of this makes any sense.”
“Perhaps your fanged friend can shed some light on the subject, Summer. Have you given that any thought?” Summer felt quite taken aback by the near-accusation. The Lucien that she knew was not a monster who killed people and dumped them in the river, but Melody’s question planted a seed of doubt. Their first night, right here in her apartment, he had acted strangely, in a rush to leave, and then less than forty eight hours later, just steps outside of her building, Bob turned up dead. What was it he had said to her in the vampire club…he fed on only the lonely? Summer didn’t want to dwell on what she was thinking. It was too horrid to consider.
“I have, Mel, believe me, I have. I wanted to talk to him about it last night, but one thing led to another, and it just never came up. But, trust me, if I see him tonight I will be damned sure to mention it.” “Call if you need anything, Summer. Oh, by the way, the station released an announcement. According to them, you checked into rehab for an addiction to prescription pain medication that started when you had a back injury. So at least they didn’t tell everyone you were an alcoholic or a crack head.” “Great, just great,” Summer grumbled. “I’ve never had a back injury, but lately I am starting to feel a big pain in my ass. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how it went with Lucien. Right now I need a hot shower and a stiff drink.”
She hung up the phone and poured a double shot of Cutty Sark.
Someone was sending her a message. Of that, she was certain, but who?
She didn’t want to consider it, but she had to admit that Lucien was at the top of her list of suspects.
But what could be the motive? She ruled out jealousy, that was absurd, but by his admission, her callers certainly qualified as appropriate entrees. Was she unwittingly leading Lucien to them, she wondered?
In her heart, she refused to believe that it could be true, but love blinded. Perhaps she rejected her suspicion because she viewed it through the veil of her emotions.
The Vicious Ones and their threats made more sense. The murders could be cruel warnings to her, but how did they know where to find her fans?
***
The sun dipped below the horizon; black clouds silhouetted on a purple sky as Summer picked her way through the busy cobblestone streets. Fearing recognition from her new-found notoriety, she had piled her hair up under a fedora, dressed in a sleek black pantsuit, and had hidden her eyes behind shaded lenses. She marched up to the door of Down for the Count. Before she could rap on the heavy steel, the door swung open.
“Good evening, Miss Summer,” Gino smiled broadly, flashing his fangs. “If youse is looking for Lucien, miss, he ain’t here.”
“Thanks, Gino,” Summer replied, stepping through the door. “I’m not here looking for him. I was hoping you could tell me where I might find Nitro.” She slipped a ten spot into Gino’s breast pocket.
“Hmmm,” he hummed, peeking at the note in his pocket. “I don’t know if I know where he is.”
Greedy fucker. “I see. How about Marcus?” She crammed another ten in Gino’s pocket.
“I might know where I saw him last… gimme a minute to think.”
“Okay,” she acquiesced, tiring of this cat and mouse game and waving a fifty under Gino’s nose. “Perhaps Mr. Grant will help you remember where I might find Dodger.”
Gino snatched the bill from her hand. “Oh, yeah, I just remembered. Da bunch of dem is in da back at their usual table. Want me to show ya?”
“Thanks, Gino, but I think I can find the way. You’ve been very helpful.”
“Anything else I can do fer youse, you just call on Gino, okay miss?”
Yeah, yeah…I’ll be frigging bankrupt with the prices you charge for help.
It was early. The bar was hushed. A few patrons huddled in corner booths. A female vampire dined on the wrist of a gothically garbed Donor.
They eyed her with a stare as frosty as a Frigidaire.
Summer scooted past them, and turned a corner. Seated at a round table, she spied the Vicious Ones, laughing and playing quarters with shot glasses. She watched, mildly amused, as Gaston missed an easy shot, and Nitro busted on him, shoving Gaston’s shoulder. The chair tipped, spilling Gaston to the floor. They whooped and banged on the table like frat boys.
A bunch of overgrown college kids with more power than brains.
She shook her head reproachfully. Their ass clown behavior buoyed her confidence. She could handle them…piece of cake.
Summer sauntered towards the table, removing her glasses. Their faces sobered. She fixed Gaston with a school-marm stare, and he bashfully picked himself up from the floor and took his seat.
“Mind if I join you?” she inquired, assertively pulling a chair to the table and seating herself to the left of Marcus. The dumbfounded looks on their faces were priceless.
She needed information from these buffoons, and she’d have to grab the upper hand to get it.
“Anyone have a light?” She held a cigarette to her lips. Nitro leapt up, and leaned across the table, fumbling with his Zippo.
Summer pointed to Dodger’s drink. “May I?” Dodger opened his mouth to respond, but before he could form the words, she lifted the liquor to her mouth and knocked it back without a shiver. The Vicious Ones exchanged nervous sidelong glances.
Good. Her new-found courage confused them. Possibly, they were wondering if they had underestimated her. Dodger kept peering over her should
er, as if he expected someone - Lucien perhaps - to walk out of the shadows.
She would make nice and see how far that got her.
“I was hoping you boys could help me.” Summer removed her suit jacket, draping it on the back of the chair. She had chosen not to wear a bra, and she knew her breasts played peek-a-boo behind her sheer, flesh-toned blouse. She leaned over, resting her breasts on the table, which she knew caused her cleavage to deepen and swell.
“My eyes are up here, fellows,” she chastised, to no avail. No matter how hard they tried, their eyes had a mind of their own and repeatedly drifted down to her breasts. Summer deliberately brushed her forearm against her nipples, creating a distraction as they puckered and hardened.
“Let me explain,” she continued. “I suddenly seem to have a problem. Corpses are popping up in the Mississippi like lifeless carp. You boys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” Summer saw their eyes all shift to Marcus for a response. They obviously took their cues from Marcus. Well, she’d just have to weave her magic on him. She may not have vampiric powers, she reasoned, but she had feminine wiles, and they were just as deadly in the right hands.
“Marcus,” she purred, scooting her chair next to his. “Are you the leader of this gang of miscreants?’ She placed her hand on his thigh, her skin crawling at the gesture.
“I, uh,” he coughed, directing his response to her breasts. “I guess you could say that.”
“Oh, goodie,” her fingers walked up his thigh. “You can imagine why I might be wondering if you and these handsome young men might know something about this situation, can’t you?”
She directed the question to the bristly soul patch on his chin, watching it bounce around as he chewed his bottom lip. He nodded sheepishly.
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