Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance

by Travis Luedke

  "The test of good artwork," he said to himself, "is on whether the eye follows you as you or it moves about the room." So saying, he stood the card he was holding up against the rest of the deck, then stood up and backed away from the table. Carefully, he moved to the left, and the eye stared straight back at him. He watched it as he moved to the right, and the eye tracked his movement, keeping him in its view as he moved.

  "Hey, Cassie, would you mind doing me a favour?" he asked. She looked up at him from across the table. "Would you mind standing over there and looking at the eye on that card, please, babe, while I stand here and watch it, too?" He pointed to the far corner of the table, away from where he was standing. Cassie shrugged, slightly amused by Gerry's fussing, but decided to humour him anyway. Standing up, she walked over to the spot he had indicated, and stared at the eye on the card.

  "It's looking at me," she said, an amused smile on her face.

  "Cool," he replied, excited. "It's looking at me, too! How can it do that - look in both directions at once?

  "It's a trick of the artwork, like you said," she replied. "A good artist and all that crappola, hmm."

  "That's awesome," he enthused, sitting down at the table and picking up the card again.

  "You haven't even looked at the face of the card yet, and you're obsessing over the artwork on the back! I hope the fronts live up to expectations!" She smirked as she picked up a book from the table and went and sat in a corner of the sumptuous sectional sofa, curling her long, dark legs underneath her. Gerry turned over the card he was holding, and took in the image revealed to him, then let out a long, low whistle that caught Cassie’s attention.

  “That good, is it, hon,” she asked, a smirk on her lips.

  “Holy crap! This is amazing! And, mm, rather explicit, too!”

  “Explicit?” Cassie echoed. “What? You mean, like, sexy pics?”

  “I guess you could say that,” Gerry replied. “Look at this...” He handed her the card from his hand. “That’s The Lovers card, from the Major Arcana, and there’s no vagueness about what they are up to!”

  Cassie turned the card in her hand so that the image was standing up, and looked at the artwork revealed to her. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the thick, rich green lawn that filled the lower third of the card, spreading out to the silver stonewall border, trimmed off with a purple edge. The lawn was dotted here and there with tiny, beautiful white flowers, and a stream of limpid water flowed along the left side of the sward. In the centre of the lawn, two figures lay on a heavily tapestried blanket: a tall, strong, muscular black man, and a beautiful, nubile white woman, both completely naked. The woman lay on her left side, her body facing out toward the viewer of the card. The ringlets of her long blond hair fell in disarray about her head, which was thrown back in a vision of ecstasy, her mouth open and her eyes closed in the throes of passion. Her right arm was looped under the man’s chin and up around the back of his head, while he kissed the side of her neck as he lay behind her, his right arm lying over her side, the fingers of his right hand squeezing the deep red nipple of her breast. The woman’s right leg lay up and over that of the man, allowing him to lie between her thighs from behind. This position also opened up her red, passion-swollen vulva, into which the man’s long, thick erection was deeply inserted.

  Two fruit trees, heavily laden with plums and figs, stood tall and full behind the lovers, while, above them, protruding from the centre of the top wall of the card, a giant phallus, the base of which was surrounded by fluffy white clouds, pointed down into the pale blue sky, almost to the mid-point of the card, the dark purple veins on its shaft engorged with blood. The pale purple head was tattooed with a stylized longbow, nocked with a silver-tipped arrow that pointed straight down toward the copulating couple. From the opening at the tip of the phallus a shower of white ejaculate rained down, the drops of which, as they fell toward the ground, transformed into small, white doves just before they touched the people below. Behind the fig tree to the right of the lovers, hidden by the trunk and the dense foliage, a shadowy figure could be seen watching them in flagrante delicto.

  “Wow!” Cassie said slowly. “That’s quite the image.” She gently put a finger out and touched the blue sky of the card. It seemed cool and smooth, as she would have expected. Moving her finger ever-so-gently across the surface, she noticed the texture change as her fingertip encountered the giant phallus. There the surface became slightly uneven and pliant, and warm, as if she was actually touching real skin! Alarmed, she quickly took her finger off the card, and was surprised to feel a sense of disappointment deep within her.

  “That feels almost real,” she said to Gerry, putting the card down on the table. Gerry had flipped through a number of cards himself, and was now peering closely at another of them, holding it gently in his hand.

  “These are absolutely amazing!” he said in wonder. “That old woman was right – this is an amazing deck. Have you felt the surface of some of these cards, Cassie? It’s like you’re touching real stones, or metal, or...”

  “Skin!” she said quietly.

  “Yeah,” Gerry replied. “So you noticed that, too. I mean, look at this one.” He held up the card he was holding for Cassie to see. The legend at the top of the card read “Regina”, while that at the bottom of the card read “Tempestates”.

  “I understand ‘Regina’ is ‘Queen’, but what does ‘Tempestates’ mean?”

  “Storms,” Gerry replied. “Queen of Storms.”

  “Storms, eh?” Cassie said. She took the card from his hand to study it more closely. What she saw was a tall, slender woman standing in the midst of a raging storm, her dark green cloak being tossed by the winds behind her. Her pale, beautiful face, with delicately chiselled nose and strong, gently pointed, feline jaw, was framed with long hair the colour of midnight. Two perfectly elliptical eyes showed clear, bright whites and sapphire blue irises, encapsulating broad black pupils, while her full red lips were sensually parted, revealing strong, white teeth and a hint of her dark red tongue. Her long, slender neck led down to a broad expanse of pale-skinned chest, with full, firm breasts tamed within a tight, bright green bodice, the material unable to prevent the hardness of her erect nipples rising visibly through the its softness. Her bodice, skirt and cloak were richly embroidered with golden thread, showing symbols and glyphs of ancient Celtic origin. Her long muscular arms and powerful shoulders were fully exposed to the elements, while the index finger of her right hand pointed out of the card, beckoning the viewer into her realm. The fingers of her left hand, long manicured fingernails painted blood red, toyed with the string of the tightly-knotted bow resting in her cleavage that held her bodice closed, enticing her audience with the possibility of an exposed breast.

  Around the mysterious figure, rain swept down in torrents, but never a drop touched her, while, behind her, in the thunderous darkness, jagged bolts of lightning – white and blue and orange – flashed through the sky, illuminating her pale, powerful beauty. In the distance, dimly seen through the torrential rain, a large, ruined, smoking castle waited patiently for her, while, close by, over her right shoulder, a large, black raven swooped down towards its mistress, the Queen of Storms.

  Gerry watched as a tremor rippled across Cassie’s exposed skin, bringing up gooseflesh, despite the warmth of the room.

  “You cold, babe?” he asked, reaching for a throw from the couch.

  “I don’t feel cold, no,” she replied. “It just felt as if someone – or something – walked over my grave. You ever had the feeling? You know, that shiver down the spine that makes your whole body feel a chill.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Gerry said. Reaching over, he took the Tarot card out of her hand and put it back on top of the pile on the coffee table. Cassie seemed to brighten up almost immediately, her skin quickly returning to normal in the humid heat of the room, and she shook her head gently.

  “Now that is odd,” she said. “I feel fine now, and warm aga
in. What’s that about?” She stared at Gerry, seeking answers in his concerned face.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea,” he replied.

  “Maybe we could do with some food and drink, or something. I suddenly feel very hungry.”

  “Now that you come to mention it, I do feel a bit of a need coming on.” He stretched over and ran a finger up the inside of her leg, but she playfully swatted it away. Standing up, she made her way back into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top that had been lying on the floor, then made her way into the kitchen, Gerry in tow.

  ~* * * *~

  Later that day, and with the night drawing in, Gerry sat on the couch, hunger satisfied, still flipping through the deck of Tarot cards he had bought in Orangeville. The images on the cards filled his imagination with their range of subjects and the details in the pictures and symbolism. The more he handled them, the lighter and smoother and warmer the cards seemed to become, fitting comfortably in the palm of his hand as he riffled and shuffled them, getting the feel of them – “weight and width”, as his grandmother used to say. Reaching for the tin box the cards had come in, he turned it up and shook the remaining content – wrapping and straps – out onto the table.

  “Darn!” he said, looking through the assorted claptrap.

  “Is there a problem, hon?” Cassie asked from the other corner of the couch, looking up from the book she was reading.

  “No LWB,” Gerry said, sadly.

  “No what?”

  “No Little White Book. That’s the nickname they use for those little instruction booklets that come with most Tarot decks these days. I was hoping that there’d be one for this deck, so I could get an idea of what and who some of these images are depicting. A lot of them are so far out, it’s hard to get to the truth behind the image without a little background.”

  She looked at the pile of stuff on the table, then at the box itself. Leaning over, she picked up the tin and studied it carefully. “Well,” she said, “if you place a card in here sideways, you could put two together, side by side, right. In that case, this tin is more than big enough to hold the cards and a good-sized book. Maybe we need to go back to the bookstore and ask that cracked old lady if she has it.” She carefully inspected the tin box, bringing it close up to her eye.

  “Gerry,” she said, after a few moments. “This box – it’s not tin.”

  “Hmm?” Gerry said, looking up from yet another card. “What do you mean – not tin? So, it’s like, steel, or aluminium?”

  “No, it’s not. It’s silver!”

  “What?” he said, surprise filling his voice. “Silver? A decorated silver box like that would be worth...”

  “A hell of a lot more than two hundred bucks!” Their eyes met, wonder and not a little concern written across their faces. “There’s something very odd about all this, Gerry. I hope these weren’t knocked off from somewhere, or something like that. I mean, why only two hundred dollars for a deck and a box that are obviously worth a whole lot more?”

  “Or maybe I just got a great bargain,” he chuckled, picking up the Queen of Storms card and peering in her sapphire blue eyes. Gently he rubbed the pad of his thumb across the card, a strange, almost imperceptible, sensation tingling through him as he felt the raised bumps of her nipples on his skin.

  “I hope that’s all it is,” Cassie replied, putting the silver box down and turning back to her book. Suddenly tiredness washed over her, and she stretched on the sofa, and yawned. Standing up and stretching her legs, she sauntered over to where Gerry sat entranced by the vision of the Queen of Storms.

  “I'm pooped, hon,” she said, dropping her book on the table beside the stack of Tarot cards. “You coming to bed, hmm?”

  Gerry looked up from the card in his hand, straight into the face of the Queen of Storms, standing right before his eyes, the redness of her lips emphasizing the paleness of her smooth, alabaster skin, her sapphire blue eyes querying his as if she had just asked him a question. “What the...” He sat back in surprise, his mouth dropping open, and looked back at the face on the card to verify what he was seeing, but, when he looked back at the woman standing next to him, it was Cassie’s concerned face that filled his vision.

  “Are you okay, hon?” she asked, kneeling in front of him and peering in to his eyes.

  "Yes, I am fine," he smiled back at her. Tossing the card onto the table, he fondled Cassie's neck. "Bed sounds like a good idea about now."

  They both stood up, and Gerry made a quick circuit of the small cottage, making sure all of the windows and doors were locked. Joining Cassie back in the great room, he took hold of her outstretched hand and let her playfully lead him into the bedroom. In the small bathroom adjoining their bedroom, they teased each other with threats of cold water and towel lashings, before heading back into the bedroom. Once there, Cassie stood, her long arms raised over her head, and let Gerry slowly remove the few pieces of clothing she was wearing, swallowing as his throat tightened with desire. Naked, she let him wrap his arms around her from behind, each of his big, rough-skinned hands covering one of her firm, round breasts. She squirmed her ass against him, the throb of his hardening cock pressing against her through his shorts, as his palms rubbed against her hardening nipples, and he felt her tremble as he kissed and nibbled the side of her neck and shoulder. Gradually he increased the pressure of the tweaks and nips on her nipples, quickly building the wetness deep in her yoni, making her labia tingle and her clit throb with anticipation.

  Twirling deftly in his embrace, she turned to face him, their mouths meeting, lips melding, tongues entwining in a fury of passion. He could taste toothpaste and lipstick, blending together as their lips mashed into each other’s, then faintly, but getting stronger, the scent of her musk began to fill the atmosphere. Absently, he wondered if the Queen of Storms would smell the same, or if her pale skin would feel like the smooth velvet of Cassie's. Pushing her onto the bed, he sucked one of her nipples hard into his mouth, still kneading her breasts, as she moaned and squirmed beneath him. In the valley between her breasts, a sheen of perspiration already glistened in the moonlight shining through the uncovered window, and she shivered with arousal as he dragged his tongue through it and marauded her other breast and nipple with teeth and lips, sending shards of ecstasy tripping through her chest and downward into the heart of her wanton womanhood.

  Licking down along her body, his tongue traced the seams of her abs, his lips kissing, his teeth nibbling, his hands returning to torture her sensitive nipples, as he headed to paradise. Suddenly he stood up and, getting hold of her feet, he spun her around on the bed so that her legs were facing the open window. Slipping his hands to the backs of her thighs, he pushed her legs up and apart, and watched, entranced, as the moonlight glistened on the wetness of her yoni, glittering like silver threads along the dark lines of her labia and the swirl of her swollen clitoris, while, hidden deep within, a gleam of hot pink flesh flashed from the heart of her cunt.

  Fascinated, he knelt down and brought his face close between her thighs, then traced along the silvered outlines with his tongue, the heady tang of her musk filling his lungs, tightening his throat and making his mouth water. Driving his tongue between her tender lips, he slowly dragged it up between them until he was circling her hardened, engorged lovebud, causing her to thrust hard against his face, mashing lips and labia together in a slickness of cunt juice, the flavour of which sent blood pounding down to his throbbing erection, still trapped within his shorts. Again and again he wrung great moans of ecstasy from her as he drove her closer and closer to orgasm, sucking her clit and drinking every drop of the rich, earthy juices her cunt surrendered to him.

  Then, relinquishing his oral command of her vulva, he quickly dropped his shorts and underwear to the floor and, wetting the swollen head of his massive, throbbing hardness in the oils of her passion, he slowly drove his cock between her willing labia and deep into the want of her yoni. It never ceased to amaze him how tight sh
e always was, her cunt gripping his erection, quickly building a burning friction that had them both grunting and groaning with each thrust and pull. Pushing her further up on the bed, he clambered up and quickly continued his slow, rhythmic fuck, keeping up the smooth pace he knew she loved. Her nails raked along his back and shoulders, driving him to push harder into her, as he watched the muscles and sinews of her neck tighten with each growing moan.

  Suddenly, feeling how close they both were to climax, Cassie pushed his arms away, causing his rhythm to break, and his body to fall onto hers. Deftly she wrapped her arms around his body, holding them together, then, with one quick, strong, well-practiced maneuver, she rolled them both over so that she was now on top of Gerry. Pushing her torso up, and bringing her legs up by his sides, she straddled him, taking control of the thrusts of his hardness into her, arching her back and lifting her ass so she could slowly ride down the length of his cock, adding an agony of anticipation to each plunge. His hands now free to molest her at will, he quickly regained control of her nipples, squeezing their yielding hardness between his thumbs and fingers, while, with eyes closed and mouth open, she rode him like a stallion.

  "Fuck, yeah, baby!" she gasped into the darkness, driving her clit hard against his body. "Squeeze 'em good, honey, yeah." Her voice trembled as she spoke, and Gerry obliged, kneading her breasts as her lips quivered and her body shook against the multiple assaults. On and on she rode his hardness, a quick thrust down, followed by a long, slow drag up, her cunt muscles gripping his ridged erection, again and again. His balls felt like tight little knots of tingling sensitivity as they pumped their contents out into his body, summoned by the insistent calls from his pre-orgasmic prick.