Their excitement had peaked and the phone calls they’d made to their families and former boss, which were highly questioned by all of them, flowed out of their minds as they listened to the man tell them of the wonders they were about to witness.
The drive back to their house was filled with laughter and Julie found herself letting go of any doubts she’d had. It would be just the three of them, gallivanting all over the world.
Christophe pulled into his driveway and said, “Let’s go into my place. I’d like to show you some of my playthings.”
Each man took one of Julie’s hands in theirs and made their way inside the darkened house. Julie noticed the lack of furniture in the living room, but decided not to comment as they would all be taking off soon for France anyway.
Straight to his bedroom they went, where a bottle of wine waited on a small table. A large bed sat in the middle of the room, and the thing which caught both of their attention was the two sets of chains which hung from the ceiling. Christophe turned to look at them both. “The things I will teach you two,” he said as he poured them some wine. “Drink up, I want to get started right away.”
Kyle downed his glass and held it out for more. “So what are we going to do with that contraption?”
His glass was refilled as Christophe smiled. “First Julie and I will place you in the first set of chains and she will pleasure you by sucking your cock while I take her from behind. It’s quite an exquisite sensation as you’re held off the floor. After she’s satisfied you, I will place her in the chains next to those. You will watch from your high perch as I clean up the mess I’ve left in her with my mouth.”
Kyle nodded in agreement. “When do you get chained up?”
“After I take you down, of course. Then it’ll be your turn to do what you want to with her,” he said, as he began removing the dress from Julie.
Kyle watched as Christophe undressed her, carefully removing the pearl necklace. She stood before them both, naked. “Take off your clothes, guys. Let’s get this party started.”
Kyle did as she asked and in moments he was locked up in the chains and waiting for her mouth to make him happy. Which she did as Christophe kept his clothes on, he only unzipped his pants to release his erection, and moved steadily behind her until all three found their release.
Once Christophe had Julie in her chains he stood back and smiled at them both. “I’m going to deviate from the plan. It’s at this point I’m going to tell you what has to be done for us to stay together permanently. You may try to change your minds, but I won’t have it. It sounds scarier than it is.” He pulled out a roll of silver duct tape and pulled off two pieces. In an instant he flew up to them and slapped a piece over each of their mouths.
Julie’s eyes went wild, and she screamed, but it was muffled by the tape. Kyle shook in his chains and glared at Christophe who smiled back at him. “You see, I am an eternal, and I’m about to make both of you just like me. I have given you the blood of virgins and you have consumed more than enough for the process to take place.”
Kyle made a gagging sound and Julie thrashed about. The tall man seemed to grow even taller as they watched him transform into something not of this world, but still devastatingly gorgeous. His voice the same, he said, “I am a vampire and you are about to join me. When you wake up from the fever which will burn you for days, you will be an eternal. Not a thing can kill you, and we will be together forever.”
He clapped his hands and smiled, revealing a horrifying set of sharp teeth. “Who first?”
Both thrashed in their chains as he looked back and forth between them. His eyes settled on Kyle. “I’ll do her first because you love to watch.”
Kyle shook his head and yelled behind the tape as Christophe grabbed Julie’s body and held her tight, her thrashing stopped instantly and she looked at him longingly. A kiss he placed on her cheek before he ran his mouth to her neck. She stretched it for him and he bit her. A scream came from beneath the tape and she fell limp in his arms where he left her hanging in the chains.
Turning to Kyle he said, “I’ll see you in a few days, on the other side of this. Don’t worry.” His mouth landed on his cheek, leaving a kiss there then he closed his teeth on Kyle’s neck, making his body go limp.
The night was dark, no moon lit in the black sky. Christophe flew down to the lawn of his home. A bottle of wine in his hand. Opening the door to his house, he found the living room filled with light and music playing on the radio. The smell of pasta boiling and a sauce made with sweet basil filled his nose. “Hello?” He moved slowly into the house, closing the door behind him. “Anybody home?”
A giggle came from the bedroom and he followed the sound. As he opened the door, he found Julie and Kyle flying about in the large room. They waved at him and smiled.
“See, I told you it would all be okay,” he said as he opened the wine and they came down to take a glass. “Now we can be together forever.”
Julie took a drink then pressed her red lips to Christophe’s before turning to kiss Kyle. Both men took her hands and led her out of the bedroom.
The End
Young Prospects
Chapter One
I want to suck your-
What?
I was going to say “blood,” dammit! It should have been pretty damn obvious from the cover that I'm a vampire! Get your damn mind out of the gutter!
Eh, who the hell am I kidding? I sure as hell don't have room to criticize. I'm in my mid 400's for Christ's sake, and all I ever think about is sex. Well, sex and blood. I'd hoped maybe the taste for both might dry up a little bit whenever I hit menopause, if you catch my drift, but no such flippin' luck I'm afraid.
See, you've probably heard it said that the surefire way to keep a vampire from biting someone is with a stake to the heart. But for me, well-
Let's just say that a stake between the legs works a hell of a lot better in my case...
Maybe I should start from the beginning.
I was originally bitten by a bat as a teenager- I can't even remember how old at this point, because bear in mind I'm now 444 years old. 2/3 of the way to the real landmark in a vampire's age, 666! God, I don't even want to think about it... I'm just now starting to get my first couple of gray hairs now and then, and it gives me the heebie freakin' jeebies just to think about 200 years from now!
See, once I turned eighteen, it was like my aging suddenly started slowing down. It took me about a whole decade to seem as though I'd aged a single year, thus why I'm presently 444 years old and still look like a 40-year-old MILF.
Actually, I find MILF to be a disrespectful term for a woman such as myself.
I prefer to think of myself as a VILF.
But, call it whatever you will, I've been about this age longer than just about anyone's been alive, in essence. I guess it's no surprise that I'm still insatiable when it comes to matters of either sex or blood, it just seems like it's been so long... Half a millennium of bloodthirstiness and cock hunger will do that to a girl.
Now, I didn't immediately get this sexually depraved like the instant I was bitten or anything. I was too afraid to even get near another person, much less get intimate with a man. All I could think about when I saw other people was the warm, tender blood pumping through their veins, and the only use I had for them was as living bendy straws.
Please bear in mind I never actually acted upon this bloodthirsty instinct. It bothered the hell out of me, and it was about the only thing I could manage to think about, like ever, but I've never been a killer of my fellow man. I will admit, I've nibbled here and there... I've savored the taste of blood from human veins, but I've never drained them down to the point that they'd croak or anything like that.
And I'm not really proud of that, either. My impulses were so damn intense that I shook at the prospect of quenching my thirst, and to be quite honest I still get moist between the legs any time the bloodmobile comes into town...
But, thank God, I was a
lways managed to satisfy myself to some small degree by drinking blood from animals- poor things... I did feel guilty about that, because they didn't deserve to die like that just because I couldn't control my blood lust. But, such is life I suppose. A bat sank its fangs into me, and I was just paying it forward.
So, yeah, it was a couple of years that I went around like that. Staying mostly in the forest all the time, so that I didn't end up snapping and attacking a person in my insatiability. I just didn't think I could live with myself if I ever did something like that- hell, I could barely live with myself as I was.
But, I did.
And it wasn't until I was eighteen that I discovered that sex could act just as successfully as a palliative for my bat shit lunacy, and I've largely preferred draining loads to draining blood ever since.
I'll never really forget my first time, even if it was several hundred years ago. I had gone into town at the time, because damn me, I just couldn't stay in the woods all the time. I had to have supplies now and then. New clothes, things to keep me from going crazy. I didn't really have any money to spend, so I sort of just had to pocket anything I might have wanted.
And that's what I met him, the man who changed my life, the man I'll never forget.
Francisco.
No, wait... Francesco?
Shit.
Ummmm... We'll just call him Frank. But I swear he was a lot sexier than the name Frank might otherwise lead you to believe.
The two of us had shared a moment of eye contact, followed by a smile, followed by about five minutes of small talk, followed by I was in his bed bouncing up and down on his cock.
Now, keep in mind I'd been a good little girl up to that point, i.e. I was still a virgin. So my own sexual prowess surprised me rather a lot. I screwed that mofo like a lightbulb, grinding and thrusting and humping him like an old pro, moving my body with the adeptness of a porn star despite my total lack of experience up to that point.
The two of us must have went at it all night, and I could tell after the first five or six times that I might have been tiring him out, but I didn't care. I knew he would see it as a sign of personal weakness if he tuckered himself out while I was still firing on all cylinders, and I had no intentions of letting his bruised ego go to waste.
I was feeling good for the first time in years, each ejaculation of his cum into my body feeding me in a way that blood never had, and even when I'd pretty much dried out his reserves for the night and the two of us were in essence just dry humping, I simply loved the act itself, the rocking of my body, the energy coursing through my veins, the sweat drooling down my body, my head light, and oh God, oh God, oh God, I was cumming again...
And somehow, miraculously I was fulfilled. As in, I was free of my blood cravings for an entire week after that long night of sexual depravity, and I felt as though I could think clearly for the first time since I'd originally been bitten.
I felt absolutely fan-damn-tastic.
I kept coming back to his place and fucking him after that, and I absolutely loved it, each and every time, but I was beginning to notice his loads weren't sustaining me for as long each time- like, by the time I split up with him, I was barely getting through a whole day without my bloodlust creeping back up on me, and I decided to make like a rolling stone and... Um... Roll, I guess.
You would think at 400 I would have these aphorisms down a little better. But, memory's supposedly the first thing to go, I guess.
Anywho, I sort of just sustained myself like that for a while, spreading my legs and flying from man to man to man seeking carnal sustenance, week after week, month after month, year after year, decade after decade, century after century...
God, I hate thinking about the fact that I'm almost half a millennium old by now... Fuck me...
But, here's the thing about the way life was progressing for me. Since I didn't really age normally, my taste in men never really matured as I did, even as I grew past the equivalent phase where I should reasonably have been with men in their forties and fifties. I don't know how to justify it rationally, and maybe I'm just using this as an excuse to carry on with my dirty filthy MILFY ways.
But my theory is, I spent a good three centuries feeling like a young woman, a young woman who dated young men, because they saw me as their own age, even if in reality I was secretly old enough to be their great great great grandmothers or more.
So by the time I was pushing four hundred, I think it came as something of a surprise to me that eighteen year olds no longer wanted me the way they always had. And I mean, it came in a lot of varieties over time. The middle of this century was hell on me, because sexual propriety was all the rage- I got men to screw me, but it sure was tough getting them out of their comfort zones and in between the thighs of this lovely mature lady. I did have to resort to older guys sometimes, but I found this did hardly anything to keep me ticking for long. I'd screw someone in their forties and then a few hours later be hungry again. I just couldn't help it.
I'd acquired an insatiable appetite for young blood, and nothing else in the world would do the trick.
Chapter Two
The years passed by- the seventies were great with their free love, and guys starting to stick their cocks into anything with a hole without feeling too bad about it- until finally I arrived at the present day, and my first real crush on a young boy since all those years ago with Frankie or Francesco or Frankenstein or whatever the hell his name was.
The new millennium saw me getting more action than ever from young guys, because millennials seemed to have the least problem of all compared with any generation before them of bumping uglies with a more mature lady- hell, they had TV shows about it now, not to mention fucking porn and erotica genres (wink wink.)
I've had my heels around my head with young men plenty of times in the past few years, if you catch my perverted drift, but I could never have been said to be truly head over heels for one of my spoiled despoilers until Kevin came along.
Shit. Kevin....
Are you aware of what happens in the book Lolita? I sort of pulled a Humbert Humbert whenever my gaze happened to fall upon this beautiful specimen of adolescent masculinity, marrying his father, a man I didn't truly feel the least bit of affection for whatsoever, just to be around his son. Except, well, Kevin was 18, and not... You know what? Forget the fucking Lolita bit. It makes it sound a hell of a lot worse than it was. Although it was pretty bad, but in a good, sexy way. Well, depending on who you ask... Maybe not so good for his old man, but for me it was pretty good.
It seemed like fate the day I first crossed paths with my favorite young cub. Can you guess what he was doing when I met him? It was something I love as well.
He was fucking the first time I saw him...
See, I was hiding out in some trees one night, staring up at the full moon. Even having myself largely under control when it comes to the vampire stuff, I still get this urge from time to time to reconnect with my more primal nature. Hell, sometimes when I'm feeling really silly I sleep hanging upside down from the ceiling. But that's another story.
So anyway, here I am in the trees, when this pair of headlights illuminates the ground underneath me. I started to get just a little bit freaked out, because well, a fully grown woman just sitting around in a tree in the middle of the night runs the risk of being thrown into the goddamn loony bin.
But, I quickly saw that the driver of the vehicle had something far more pressing than myself on his mind, and that I was probably safe from whatever the hell I might have had to worry about happening.
See, Kevin had a little girlie with him in his car, and I could tell a middle aged prowler was the last thing in the world that might run the risk of drawing his attention in that moment. Now, I may admittedly have been just a little bit jealous in my present state and therefore biased in saying this, but I could tell that the girl he was with was a real slut bimbo. She was the type of girl for whom the only remotely positive thing you could say was that she w
as “good pussy.” It was obvious she didn't have a brain in her head or any worthwhile assets other than her physical ones, and that she was the type of girl that got passed around among the football team in high school and then left to live a sad unhappy life after graduation.
Okay, so I didn't actually know the first damn thing about her. But my jealous intuition told me that was exactly what she was.
She was kind of just a little fleck of a girl, eighteen years old from what I learned from Kevin afterwards. She had this compact little body, like she wasn't actually grown into it yet, or she was like a fucking miniature version of a girl, the striking exception being her girly parts, which were hugely exaggerated in comparison to the rest of her body. Fat ass. Ginormous that jiggled like crazy anytime she turned her pretty little fucking head.
I already couldn't stand the little bitch...
Now Kevin, on the other hand, I went wet for from the get-go. A strapping young lad, body like a male model's. Muscular, athletic, toned and fit and able to rip a girl apart, as I was about to witness, and pretty fucking well endowed, as I was also about to witness...
I watched the two little lovebirds as they pecked each other on the lips in the front seat of the car, thinking that they would probably stay contained inside where it was warm and dry, and that before long I would see the car start rockin' around on its wheels. I probably would have just forgotten about it if that had been the case, an amusing little incident that had made my night a little bit more interesting- hell, titillating even- but not much else.
But then the dome light of the car came on, and the doors opened. The two of them scrambled out of the car, with Kevin having to tug the little slut along a bit for her to buy into it. “Come on, I swear to God no one's gonna see us,” he was saying, and I smiled at how oblivious he was to the fact he was being watched.
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