Radical Encounters

by Radclyffe

  “Spirits don’t use the door,” I murmured as I rose.

  For some reason, I felt no need to turn on the lights, making my way through the home of my childhood with the certainty born of having traveled the same path countless times before. Without hesitation, I pulled open the heavy wooden door and looked out.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Can you help me?”

  Can you help me? I recognized her voice, but I was certain I had never seen her before.

  “My car…I’m afraid I’ve run it into a ditch. It was so dark…”

  Her voice trailed off, and I realized that I was staring. There was almost no light reaching the tree-shrouded porch through a sky so black that even starlight did not penetrate. For some reason that I failed to comprehend and did not bother to question, I could see her face clearly. It was an ordinary face, if you could call simple beauty ordinary. Smooth, high forehead, wide, faintly almond-shaped eyes that even in the dark I knew with certainty were a pale shade of blue, prominent cheekbones tapering to her soft but well-defined chin. She was slightly shorter than I and somewhere close to my age. She regarded me with a quizzical expression tinged with doubt.

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “If I could use your phone?”

  “Where is your car?”

  “Just up the road there.” She pointed over her shoulder, although there was nothing to be seen in the dark.

  “I didn’t realize it was raining.”

  For a moment, she said nothing, then glanced at the damp blouse that clung to her slender shoulders and full breasts. With a self-conscious laugh, she plucked the material away from her body.

  “It started just before I went off the road. The sky just opened and the entire storm struck at once. I couldn’t see a thing.”

  I nodded. My porch was dry. From behind me, I heard the faint hum of conversation from the living room. My unexpected visitor shivered.

  “Why don’t you come in and get warm. I’ll take a look at your car.”

  “Oh, no,” she said immediately. “I’ll just call a garage.”

  “Even if you can find someone to come out here this late, it will take several hours. And you look like you’re freezing.” I held the door open. “There’s a guest room at the top of the stairs on your left. If you want to get out of your wet clothes, there’s a robe behind the door in the adjoining bathroom. You can get a hot shower, too, if you’d like.”

  “That would be wonderful.”

  As she stepped inside, she ran her fingertips lightly down my forearm and whispered, “Thank you.” It was the kind of innocent touch that people exchange every day. Innocent and casual. The swift surge of desire that seared through me nearly dropped me to my knees. I caught my breath in surprise, but she didn’t seem to notice. I watched until she had climbed the stairs and disappeared into the dark hallway above. Then I returned to my friends.

  “Who was it?” Trudy asked curiously.

  “Just someone who needed directions.”

  In my absence they had begun to gather their things, and I made no effort to convince them to stay. I didn’t question why I didn’t tell them about my visitor. I only knew that I didn’t want one of them to offer her a ride into town. I walked with them to the front door, gave all the appropriate responses about getting together again soon, and watched until their cars disappeared from sight. Then I removed the large battery-operated flashlight from just inside the foyer closet and walked rapidly down my driveway to the road. Less than two minutes later, guided by the wavering yellow beam of light, I saw where the bushes lining the road had been destroyed by a careening vehicle. Nearly the entire car was in the ditch, and nothing short of a tow truck was going to get it out. The driver’s door stood open and, when I shined my light inside, I saw that the windshield was cracked.

  In less than five minutes I had returned to my house. I hurried upstairs, and then was strangely reluctant to enter the guest bedroom. Tentatively, I knocked on the partially open door and heard a soft voice call for me to enter. Once again, I had no trouble seeing although the night outside was still pitch black and the room lights were off. She stood by the window, her back to me, in a thigh-length white robe that appeared far sheerer than I remembered. The outline of her breasts and hips was unmistakable. She did not turn as I approached or move at all as I rested my hands gently on her shoulders.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She leaned infinitesimally back against my body, her head resting lightly against my shoulder. “No.”

  “From the looks of your windshield, you must have hit your head pretty hard in the crash.”

  She reached up for my hands and drew my arms down and around her waist, relaxing fully into my embrace. Her hair smelled of shampoo and autumn. She fit perfectly into the contours of my form, as if we were reciprocal sides of the same mold.

  “If I did, I don’t remember.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “Knowing that you would answer the door, that you would invite me in.”

  She turned in my arms and slid hers around my neck. The robe fell open as her mouth found my neck. Her lips were soft, warm, as they traveled along the underside of my jaw, her tongue a teasing ribbon of heat. I arched my throat, offering her more. Her teeth grazed my earlobe, and she laughed quietly.

  “I can feel how fast the blood is racing through your veins. I’m not a vampire, but I almost wish I were.”

  “What are you?” I whispered, smoothing my palms over her collarbones and underneath the now nearly translucent material of her robe. Even as I watched, the last tendrils of material drifted into the darkness and left her pale skin glowing in the light of the moon.

  “Does it matter?”

  Her words were a wash of heat against my ear that stirred my blood even more. With a groan, I closed my hands over her breasts. They were full and firm and hot to my touch. She was no spectre, no illusion. She was flesh, and I wanted her.

  I had thought myself a sensitive lover, but I barely recognized myself as I drove her back toward the bed with the force of my hands on her body and my tongue in her mouth. When she struck the edge of the mattress and fell, I was close upon her. I had a fleeting thought that it was I who had become the vampire. I hungered for her, thirsted for her, ached for the taste and scent and wild glory of her. Vaguely aware of her hands fisted in my hair, I pressed my fingers high between her legs and found her wet and open, waiting for me. Her passion inflamed me, and with my teeth against the tender skin of her breasts, I entered her—not slowly, not with the gentle care of a new lover, but with the raging need of the long starved at the first glimpse of nourishment.

  She uttered a victorious cry and arched beneath me, tilting her hips to take me deeper. Fully clothed still, I scissored my legs around her thigh, squeezing to ease the pressure building dangerously deep inside me. I claimed her, hard and fast, but I knew even as she closed around me in the first shock of orgasm that it was I who was owned. Her pleasure tore through me like a sweet drug, curling beneath my defenses to burn its mark forever upon my soul. As she came, over and over, pulling me with her into sweet oblivion, I knew with absolute certainty that I would never again ache for the touch of any other woman.

  When I awoke, the first hint of dawn limned the room. The bed beside me was empty, and only the ache in my body and the persistent beat of desire in my depths assured me it had not been a dream. The robe hung on the back of the bathroom door, just as I had left it weeks before. There were no stray hairs on the pillow, no scent of love or lust lingering on the sheets. Weak limbed and faintly disoriented, I retrieved my flashlight and stumbled out into the early morning in search of her. I found the spot where her car had left the road, but the bushes were intact and there was no evidence of an accident. I scoured both sides of the highway for a mile in either direction and found no sign of her. Exhausted, I returned and fell into a troubled sleep plagued by the sound of her passion and the memory of her desire.

  When I finally emerged fr
om the torpor that had suffused me for most of the day, I showered and dressed with the efficiency of an automaton. As I started downstairs, my eyes were drawn to a small white card on the table just inside the door. With a rush of wild anticipation, I clambered down the remaining stairs and snatched it up. My heart leapt into my throat. The words were scripted in a clear, delicate hand.

  Call me.

  Eagerly, I turned the card in my fingers and stared in astonishment. There was nothing else—no number, no address. Nothing. Slowly, I sat on the bottom step, turning the card over and over in nerveless fingers. The house grew still and dark around me, and still I sat. At last, I stood and opened the front door, half expecting her to be there. The night was nearly as deep as the previous one, although this time the moon was bright and gave no sign of ever having been overpowered by shadow. I waited, calling to her in my mind, but she did not come.

  Finally, I closed the door and made my way through the silent house, more aware of being alone than I had ever been before. When I reached the living room, I stopped and stared, remembering that I had taken time the previous night for nothing but her. Slowly, I sat down at the card table and rested my fingers on the planchette in the center of the Ouija board. Closing my eyes, I let her memory take me. I saw her face shimmer with passion, felt the softness of her lips on my neck and the smooth silken heat of her skin beneath my fingers. The planchette moved, but still I kept my eyes closed. I listened to her cries of ecstasy, felt my own body stir and surge toward orgasm, only to falter before the peak. Without her, I would perish from longing. I trembled, breathless, so hungry for her presence I feared I would bleed.

  “Please,” I whispered. “Please.”

  “I’m here.”

  Her words were a wash of heat against my ear. I opened my eyes and found myself in the bedroom again, my arms around her supple form, nothing between us now but desire.

  “What are you?” I asked, knowing that the answer did not matter.

  “Not what others have named me,” she whispered with her mouth against my breast. She moved beneath me, stirring the hunger. This time, I took her inside me as I lost myself in her.

  Reality was the dream; she was past and future. I emptied my mind of all that had been as the first surge of orgasm captured us both and I followed her by the light of the moon into the dark side of the night.

  Blessed Benediction

  Every morning I get down on my knees and thank the powers that be that my girlfriend likes to get down on hers. She just doesn’t like it, she loves it. She loves to give head. She doesn’t care who knows it, either. This I know because I’ve heard her announce it more than once in the middle of a party when girls always seem to end up talking about sex.

  “Danny has a gorgeous cock. I luvvvv to suck her off,” my girl Shelby purrs.

  She doesn’t let on that she notices the raised eyebrows, some in question and others in disdain. She just lifts her chin and thrusts out her great tits and dares anyone to challenge her. No one ever does, so I wasn’t expecting it when I walked up while she was making her usual pronouncement to three or four femmes at a late-night bash, and one of them, a haughty redhead, looked down her nose at Shelby and scoffed, “Oh yeah. That I’d like to see.”

  Damn if one or two others didn’t murmur in agreement.

  “Hi, baby,” I whispered, sliding up next to Shelby and nuzzling her ear. As I wrapped my arm around her waist, I nudged the stiff cock in my pants against her thigh. “Having a good time?”

  She turned into me and looped her arms around my neck, rubbing against me the way she does when she wants to be sure she has my attention, while she pushed her tongue halfway down my throat. Being a few inches shorter, her soft belly molded to the ridge in the front of my jeans and when she rocked back and forth, she more than got my attention. She got my undying devotion and anything else she wanted.

  “Unh,” I muttered just to be sure she knew.

  When she got done kissing me, she leaned back, her arms now draped loosely around my waist and her hips still slow pumping between my legs and said, “These girls are in need of a demonstration. Do you mind?”

  They say when your dick gets hard your brain gets soft, but a hard-on sure as hell doesn’t make me stupid. I cupped her tight little ass in both hands and rubbed my rod up and down in the sweet divide between her thighs. “Whatever you say, baby.”

  Her eyes got all soft and liquid the way they do when she’s getting turned on, and I knew my dick was doing its job, bumping her clit and making her wet. She curled her calf around the back of my thigh and ground into me until my legs started to shake. She could get me to the edge faster than a New York minute.

  One of her girlfriends hooted and another one called challengingly, “So, Shel, you gonna blow that cock, or fuck it?”

  Shelby took a shuddering breath and pushed me backward until the back of my knees hit a chair and I flopped down. My dick stood up like a rocket between my legs and screaming hot blood beat a crazy tattoo beneath it.

  “Why don’t you gather round and see for yourselves,” Shelby said, talking to the femmes but watching me as she knelt between my thighs.

  Oh yeah, blessed, blessed be.

  Now, the reason my girl is such a great cocksucker is that she understands that a blowjob is as much about the show as it is about her hot, wet mouth sliding up and down my cock until I come in her mouth. She doesn’t go down on me like it’s a chore, or penance, or a favor. She turns giving head into a work of art. Every move is designed to let me know she gets off on my cock, and that teasing my rod makes her cream.

  “You want me to suck you, baby?” Shelby murmured, scraping her nails down my fly. The vibration hit me where I live and my hips twitched.

  “Yeah,” I croaked. Fuck, just thinking about what she was gonna do to me twisted my insides into a knot. “Take it out.”

  She smiled and jerked me a little, the tip of her tongue gliding slowly between her lips. “Sure?”

  “Come on, babe. Suck my cock.” I sounded pathetic now, but I didn’t care. A hard-on leaves no room for pride.

  She laughed and the show began.

  I love to watch her take my cock out. She never hurries, in fact sometimes she works me around inside my pants for so long, by the time she gets me in her hand I’m ready to blow like a first-timer the minute she tongues me. She popped the button on my jeans and pulled my T-shirt out. With her eyes still on mine, she rubbed my belly and kissed my cock through my jeans. I gripped the arms of the chair and lifted my hips, pushing my cock against her face. One of her girlfriends leaned against the side of the chair and draped her arm over the back, her fingertips grazing my neck. Her breast just skimmed my shoulder. Another one in a skirt so short I could see a pale pink scrap of silk covering her pussy crowded up on the opposite side. The bitchy redhead leaned down from behind Shelby and skimmed Shelby’s long blond hair back from her face so everyone could see as Shelby mouthed my cock. The faded denim over the head of my dick was soaked from her sucking on it.

  “Are you getting nice and hard for me,” Shelby asked, running her fingers up and down the bulge in my jeans.

  I humped her hand, jacking myself up good. “Locked and loaded.”

  She gave my cock a swat and warned, “Don’t even think about shooting until I tell you you can.”

  I just nodded dumbly as she tugged down my fly. My white briefs, stretched taut over my straining cock, heaved out through the gap.

  “Ooh,” one of Shelby’s girlfriends said breathily, “I’d like to see you deep throat that monster, honey.”

  “Just watch,” Shelby replied and slid her dainty fist inside my Jockeys.

  “Uh,” I grunted, my vision going double as she wrapped her fingers around me and gave me a couple of quick pumps just to be sure I was ready for her.

  Then she twisted her wrist left, then right, and pulled my cock out into the air. A good three inches stuck out past her fist, which she kept wrapped around the base. With her eye
s locked on mine, she kissed the tip and swirled her tongue around the head.

  “The thing about boys,” Shelby said to her friends, pausing every now and then to lick the underside of my cock, “is that all they think about is shooting that load.” She slid her fist up my wet cock until only the head was visible. “A really good blowjob takes time, so don’t let them rush you.”

  She made a circle of her ruby red lips and sucked the fat, shiny mushroom tip into her mouth. At the same time, she skimmed her fist down my rod. Pressure surged between my legs and I mumbled something stupid like, oh yeah suck my dick, like she wasn’t already doing it. She hummed a happy sound and slid another inch or two in her mouth and my legs started a little dance. Up. Down. Up. Down.

  “Fuck,” I muttered, because I was about to embarrass myself in front of all these girls.

  “Now,” Shelby said, letting my cock pop out of her mouth, “if you jack their cock and suck at the same time, they’ll last about thirty seconds.” While she talked, she kissed and licked the head of my dick and jiggled the shaft back and forth over the spot where she knew I was stiff and pulsing. “That’s fine if you’re doing them while they’re driving or you wake up with their hard-on in your face and you haven’t even had coffee yet. Then a fast jerk and blow works great, doesn’t it, baby?”

  Just watching her tongue flick at the head of my dick was making my belly tingle and I was close to letting loose even if she wasn’t jacking me off. “I want to come in your mouth.”

  Shelby laughed and looked up at her girlfriends. “See? One-track mind.”

  “Suck her cock,” the redhead ordered, her voice all tight like something hurt her.

  “Yeah, make her pop,” the one in the short skirt standing next to me muttered, and I caught a glimpse of a wet spot in the middle of her pale pink panties.

  “Be good, baby,” Shelby murmured, and then she really got down to business.

  Inch by inch, she sucked my cock into her mouth until her lips met the circle of her thumb and index finger around the base of my shaft. Then she slowly slid all the way back to the crown, following her mouth with her hand. When she got to the end, she circled her tongue around the head and toyed with the tip before sliding her lips and hand back down again. My cock was slick from the wetness of her mouth, making it easier for her to jerk me off.