THE LOVE THAT NEVER DIES: Erotic Encounters with the Undead

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THE LOVE THAT NEVER DIES: Erotic Encounters with the Undead Page 4

by Christian, M


  And yet, Igor kept thrusting.

  "Come ... inside me," she commanded, in between paroxysmic noises. "I want it."

  "Yes ... mistress." His orgasm was quieter than hers, but the iron-hard clamp of his hands screwed down even tighter, and inside her his cock swelled as he filled her with his heat.

  She collapsed, exhausted, onto the table, while he recovered somewhat faster. After only a few seconds, he climbed down off the table. "Shall I clean you, Mistress?"

  "Yes, Igor. Gently."

  Her body ached in a dozen places. The warm water and soft washcloth he fetched felt good against her skin, and when he tenderly bundled her in warm blankets, she drifted off to a contented, dreamless sleep.

  In the morning, Doctor Georg Frankenstein awoke to find that not only was breakfast not waiting for him, but that he was alone in the castle with his hangover and a note left on his bedside table.

  He read it, feeling his heart sink with every concise word. "Oh, well," he sighed. "Back to the graveyard."

  VAMPSDOMINIC SANTI

  (for Ceit Nic Angus)

  Vince had obviously developed quite a penchant for interspecies fucking. Once again, I walked in the door to find my lover ass up on the couch, some human humping away in back of him like a hormone-crazed Venusian weasel.

  "For god's sake, don't get cum on the new upholstery," I snapped. "Do you know how hard it is to get decent chintz out here on Pluto?!"

  "Sure thing, bud," the human panted, grabbing Vince's slender, almost humanoid hips and thrusting faster. "Name's Val. Pleased to meet you." His words were punctuated with grunts each time he thrust. "Don't worry. I'll come up his ass, since you undead guys can't have none of them STD germs. Damn, it feels nice not to have to wear a rubber." The words deteriorated into incoherent moans as Val leaned forward and ground his cock into Vince's seductive ass. "He's so soft and cool inside. . ."

  Val held himself in place for a moment, his hairy body shuddering over my partner's totally smooth and considerably smaller form. I'm always amazed at how a multi-gendered species like humans could be so physically similar to us, and so erogenously compatible, despite their inability to interbreed with us. But they sure know how to fuck. Val took a deep breath and started thrusting again.

  Vince's fist moved like a well-greased piston over his thoroughly erect cock as he wiggled his ass lecherously at the human. "Don't get your panties in a bind, Vic," he gasped. He was so close to coming that even his vampire-pale shaft was blushing. "Get me a towel – fast."

  With a ladylike snort, I reached in my purse and drew out an embroidered Mercurian silk hanky. Vince is a great lover and the perfect soulmate for me, but sometimes he has all the class of an Andrevlian slank rodent. "Oh, use this," I snipped, leaning over and delicately spreading the midnight blue hanky beneath his obviously full-to-bursting cock. "My feet are killing me. I'm not walking all the way to the linen closet until I get out of these heels."

  With that, I turned primly and marched over to the love seat along the far wall of the living room. Not that our tiny apartment was big enough for anyplace to be particularly "far" from anywhere else. But I wanted room to strip out of my dress and lingerie. I also figured I'd let Vince and his handsome Neanderthal of a date get in at least one good orgasm before I joined the action, so they wouldn't be hair-trigger horny and leave me behind.

  At least, I presumed Vince had informed the human that any guest of his was automatically a guest of mine as well. That had been our agreement since the first time we had opened our relationship to outsiders. My dick was poking out into my panties from watching my toppy partner get his slutty ass ploughed. I suddenly realized that it was 362 years ago, exactly, that the humans, and specifically, the vampire Veronica, had first visited our fair planet. As I slipped my dress over my head, Vince and the human shuddered through their first climaxes. While they caught their breath, I let my mind wander back to memories of that momentous day – and the lovely lady Veronica.

  She was the first human, the first woman, I ever loved. She was sensuous, beautiful, so in tune with her womanliness. My feminine side loved the way her slinky dresses fell over the luscious curves of her voluptuous young body, the way her luminously pale skin almost glowed in the dark when she was finally naked in front of me. Her nipples, only two, stood out like deep red rozina buttons as she placed my hands under her breasts.

  "You do 'em like this sugar," she smiled, grabbing my top teat and giving a quick lick before she started gently sucking. "Mmm."

  Even now, my cock leaked as I thought about how she'd jumped back, so startled, when I immediately screamed and my dick started shooting cum all over her belly. Nobody had ever touched my nipples before. At 27, I'd considered myself much too young to spawn offspring. I had no idea how sensitive my teats were. I felt like I'd just ejaculated out my chest!

  Veronica loved my response, despite her total disdain for the copious puddles of milky male fluids I'd so unceremoniously deposited on her skin. "I can do without this," she'd muttered, mopping herself with my tunic as I regained my composure. Then she'd tossed the ruined cloth aside and reached for me again. "Let's see if all your titties respond like that, sugar."

  They did – all eight of them. I was a quivering mass of snarn meal by the time she was done with me. And I was totally in love. To Vince's total amusement, I panted after Veronica like a Crivdian she-bitch in heat. Oh, Veronica never paid any attention to my almost painfully throbbing male organ. Vince would have to suck me off later so I could have a really good orgasm from that appendage. All Veronica wanted to do, aside from sucking my nipples, was bury her face in my receptive slit and lick me until I quivered.

  "I love Plutonian pussy," she purred as she ate me into fits. "Y'all taste so sweet, it's like eating the cream out of a snack cake."

  Her thick, honeyed drawl made me shiver almost as much as her tongue did. By then, Vince was hooked, too. I got off almost as much from watching them suck each other senseless as I did from licking Veronica's pearl-hard clit myself. And when she fashioned a dildo in the science lab on her ship and introduced us to human fucking, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

  "Let's get you nice and wet," she'd crooned, slathering first my genitals, then Vince's, then her own, with the thick, slippery lube from the huge tube she'd deposited on our end table. "Fucking's the best damn thing that ever came out of the great state of Texas!"

  I wasn't sure what Texas was, but when she showed us how to do a daisy chain, I knew I'd reached nirvana. Oh, Vince and I couldn't really fuck each other's slits – not unless we wanted to get each other pregnant, which was definitely not in our plans for that century. So, Veronica showed us how to use the other orifice – the secret one, the one way in back.

  Even now, I flushed as I remembered how Vince and I had balked at her suggestion. I mean, back then, nobody had ever imagined using that orifice for sex. But after Veronica had warmed up both our butts with what she called "a good, old-fashioned spanking," I was so hot to be fucked that I bent over the couch and spread my ass wide open for Vince's long, slippery dick. I yelled when he slid into me – first from the pain, then because I realized that being fucked up the ass felt good!

  I yelled again when Vince leaned over me, moaning, and his cock started to expand – longer and harder and unbelievably thicker – as Veronica worked her huge artificial cock up his ass. The entire fuck was pure, unadulterated bliss, all the way up to and including the time when Vince and I begged Veronica to turn us into vampires so we could be like her, and she did. That come, when she was biting me and Vince was thrusting up my ass and my cock was spurting like my lifeblood was draining out my dick, well, that was one of the greatest climaxes of my entire fucking life!

  Of course, all of the ones since then had been pretty good, too. Vince and Val were still writhing loudly on the couch. I peeled off my bra, taking a minute to pinch my nipples, relishing the shiver as they peaked up hard. With being undead, Vince and I had, of course, never ha
d children. But all eight of my nipples were sensitive as hell from the centuries of attention Vince, Veronica, and a host of other lovers had paid to them.

  By the time I pulled off my panties, that little scrap of silk was so soaked it stuck when I threw it against the wall. Wearing just my lace-topped stockings, I advanced on the couch, stroking my rock-hard and suddenly HUNGRY cock.

  "Everybody ready for some action?" I grinned, waving my dick at them.

  "Shut up and fuck him," Vince panted. "Val says he needs a cock up his ass for a good second come, and you know I won't shoot again until I feel him go over."

  "You got it, lover," I smiled. Giving my titties one more pinch, I slathered my hand with lube, then smeared it over my dick and touched my finger to the human's hole.

  Val was hot – mortal, human hot. My dick twitched as my fingers slid in. I was surprised to realize how badly I wanted his heat. And Val didn't need stretching. He was so ready his asslips were kissing back at my knuckles. He groaned as my quivering shaft slid into him.

  "Oh, dude, that feels so good," he whispered. "Veronica said you'd do me right."

  Vince and I both froze.

  "Veronica?" I said quietly, trying to keep my mind on thinking rather than on how much my throbbing shaft burned to thrust into the warm glove of Val's ass. "You know Veronica?"

  "Hell, yes," Val whimpered. "Hey, guys, don't stop fucking, please? You don't know how good this feels. It's like fucking a handful of wet, velvet snow while I've got an ice dildo up my butt!"

  "We know," Vince and I muttered at the same time.

  "Now, what's this about Veronica?" I said. My dick was too hungry for Val's heat for me to hold still. I started gently stroking into him, shivering as the waves of pleasure traveled up my cock and into my gut.

  "She'd said you'd make, me. You know, vamp me. Oh, fuck! That feels good." Val clenched his ass muscles hard around my dick, arching forward into Vince as I instinctively thrust deep. "Veronica said that if I tweaked your titties just the right way, you'd do anything for me." Val twisted so his warm, throbbing jugular was turned towards my lips. "If I suck your tits later, will you vamp me now, please? PLEASE?!!"

  The titties comment was enough verification for me. I felt Vince trembling beneath me. I knew – we both knew – Veronica was aware of what the come would be like for all of us as Val converted.

  "Okay with you?" I panted, thrusting harder and faster as Val started to shudder with his impending orgasm.

  Vince knew I was talking just to him.

  "Anything for Veronica," he gasped. "Just do it now, Vic. Now – so I can come with you."

  "I love you," I whispered, to all of them. I sank my teeth into Val's neck, felt the warmth spurt into my mouth. As the cum erupted through my dick, Vince howled, Val's ass contracted around me, and we were gone.

  WINNAT'S PASSBILLIEROSIE

  He could hear a rat gnawing the floorboards at a hundred paces. He could hear her fingernails clawing at the coffin lid. The jarr of the farrier's hammer; steel on steel, as he shod the squire's horses, three miles away, jangled on his poor, frayed nerves. How his head ached. A pounding crushing pain, right behind his eyes.

  He might have known that a spirit like hers couldn't be crushed. Something as natural as death was not for Clara. But he'd seen her life snuffed out. He'd cried out his agony as the four burly men had bludgeoned her onto the cold stone floor. It had taken five strong men to hold him back. They'd laughed at his screams; one of them gashing his neck with an axe. Still he'd fought them. When she was lifeless, crumpled on the floor, they'd dragged her poor corpse away.

  He knew what they would do with her poor body. He thought of depravity; debauchery.

  They'd left him, unconscious, locked in the cold, damp cellar. He'd been found the next morning barely alive.

  The surgeon bled him. He was already weak from the gash on his neck, cutting into his vein. The bleeding made him sick and giddy.

  It was the head wound that was worse. A dent in his skull, from where they'd hit him with the pickaxe. Thoughts drifted out of his head, before he could grasp them; hold onto them. It was like trying to remember a forgotten dream. And the pain in his head, which sickened him. The taste of metal in his mouth.

  He felt tainted with madness. He walked the hills, mumbling, grumbling to himself. Folk turned away from him, repelled. Children wept when he appeared, running from him.

  Her corpse was found, months later in a little used mine shaft. It was then, at night, that she came to him, scratching at his window.

  * * * *

  The year was seventeen fifty eight. Despite it being the month of July, a chilly evening wind blew, as Allan and Clara made their wearisome way into the courtyard of the Royal Oak Inn at Stoney Middleton. An earlier rainstorm had soaked Clara's red woollen riding habit; Allan's fashionably cut frock coat was similarly wet. Luckily, they had warm, fresh garments with them, carried by a heavy set, laden packhorse. They needed to rest, and they needed to change horses; if the young couple were weary, their poor beasts were exhausted.

  Clara had dreamed again last night. She had the same dream as a child, waking, shaking with terror, as she'd heard the strong man begging for his life. She'd wake from the dream, sweating, screaming with terror. She'd known that in the dream she was already dead. Her nurses would be in a panic as she'd threshed out her frenzy. They'd hold cool compresses to her small forehead. Give her chilled, sweet barley water to drink.

  Clara never spoke of the second part of the dream. She feared that to speak of it would make it real. She was buried alive. The taste of the earth in her mouth. The filthy, chill stench of the graveyard. A cold tremble came over her whenever she thought of it. Her fingernails, broken, scratching at the coffin lid.

  Then last night the dream had returned to her. She knew that she and Allan were the characters in her dream. Her body lay, crumpled and bloody on a stone floor. Allan was on his knees, pleading, a red gash in his neck. A huge man stood over him, wielding an axe.

  Clara had woken screaming and sobbing, her auburn hair, dark and wild. Her green eyes, wide and goggling. Allan had soothed her. Then they'd fucked.

  They'd fucked in every bed they'd shared, from remote, rocky Scotland, to the green English Peak District. Clara was insatiable; Allan wasn't complaining. He'd known that his wealthy girl was no virgin; she'd whispered tales of her sexual adventures with stable boys, serving boys and even an elderly butler, into his ear, to arouse him before fucking.

  Her low voice, as she chanted her stories, mesmerised him.

  And then again after. She would masturbate, fingering herself to orgasm, as she told him about the butler's long muscular tongue in her cunt. Allan's erection hardened as she told him about how the old man had lapped at her clitoris. She would play with her hard nipples as she whispered her erotic tales.

  When Clara orgasmed it was as if every nerve in her body was involved. She would tremble into his arms; the screaming intensity of her orgasm feeding Allan's cock into another frenzied erection. And then they would fuck again and then again.

  She loved to suck his cock; lapping first at the head, then pushing her dainty tongue as far as it would go into his slit. No girl had sucked Allan's cock before. She would slide his erection deep into her throat; never gagging. Sometimes he'd jerk his spunk straight into her belly; other times she'd draw back and he'd orgasm into her mouth. She'd swallow his seed as if it were the finest wine, licking her lips, relishing every drop.

  She loved it, that she was more experienced than Allan. She taught him about a woman's body; how she liked her clitoris licked and sucked. Allan hadn't even known about a woman's clitoris. Clara showed him, as he explored the moist, dark, secret crevices between her soft, white thighs.

  Allan adored it, and he adored her. Sometimes he wondered if he would be enough for her; they were going to marry. If he couldn't keep up with the relentless pace she set, would she fulfill her explosive needs elsewhere?

  She'd straddle
him, taking him deep inside her. Sucking his seed into her womb; arching her back, her heavy breasts thrust forward.

  But most of all, she loved to suck his cock.

  * * * *

  Clara's horse had already stumbled and almost thrown her, pitching her forward, as they made their way through the quiet village streets. Allan's horse had cast a shoe; the sound of the hoof beats ringing out an uneven rhythmic beat on the stone cobbles.

  The bells on their horses' reins jangled.

  The inn was welcoming in the deepening dusk. Voices could be heard within; the sound of merriment and hospitality. The appetizing aroma of roasting meats, wafted from the open door as a serving boy ran out to greet them.

  Clara sighed. It had been worth it, the long journey from Scotland. In two days' time, three at the most, she and Allan, would be married, at the Peak Forest Chapel. Just nine miles north-east of Buxton in Derbyshire, a haven for couples eloping; runaway lovers, like them, desperate to escape the forbidding frowns of their families.

  Clara's family were wealthy. Allan's were poor, but were ancient nobility. The match was frowned upon, by Clara's family. Allan had been threatened, warned off by Clara's brother.

  Allan dismounted his horse first, coming then to assist his lady from her side saddle. He lifted her down gently, pressing a fleeting kiss onto her mouth. His strong hands squeezed her breasts. Her nipples were erect; whether because she was cold and wet, or already aroused he didn't know. But Allan knew that there would be more fucking tonight.

  Sure enough, as soon as the serving maid had left them in their room, Clara fell to her knees and unbuttoned his fly. Allan's thick, erect cock bounced out and she sank him into her throat, licking and gobbling at him. She bit into him, sinking her sharp white teeth into his erection. She made the little whimpering, needy noises that Allan had grown to love.

 

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