The Obscurati

by Wynn Wagner

  Oberon is my top and the man I want to spend a thousand years with. He isn’t always “top,” exactly.

  “Want to fly?” he asked.

  “Horny?”

  “Come on, it’s cloudy,” he said with a grin.

  In a flash we were nude and floating just above the clouds. We kissed and rolled. His tongue found my fangs, which always pop out when my dick gets hard. With Oberon naked, that happens quite a bit. He held me tight, and we gently floated down to the tops of the clouds. I never feel hot or cold, but I do feel damp. Clouds are always like being in a steam room.

  Within a few minutes, Oberon’s cock had found my hole. He is uncut, like most Europeans, so his pre-cum is the only lube we really need. His cock moves inside his foreskin and doesn’t really rub my sphincter raw. It is so much nicer than circumcision, the awful genital mutilation performed by actual doctors on so many American boys. Europe is much more civilized about sex. I douche when I bathe, even though a vampire’s digestive track isn’t used for passing food. I usually put a dollop of lotion or lube just inside my hole after drying just to keep everything moisturized. It is all part of my daily ritual. Oberon wants to use my hole every night, and I want to do everything I can to be ready. He got me a lotion that has a slight patchouli scent from MysticWays.com. It is musky, earthy, and it drives Oberon nuts with desire. The Internet makes it simple for those of us who are “daylight challenged.”

  Oberon entered me slowly as we levitated way above the clouds. His first thrust (if you could call it that) was tender and gentle. He took almost a minute to impale me completely. Once I felt his pubes touch my butt, he grinned. He knew what was coming, and he loved it. Me too.

  He pulled out slowly. His tip fell out of my butt. That rarely happens, but he got it back in almost instantly. His speed built slowly as I moaned from pleasure. I felt his dick moving in and out while most of his outer skin stayed still in my hole. He didn’t have much pre-cum tonight, so I could tighten my muscles and hold his skin tight. He loves it. We both do. I laughed with total abandon, and I could see that he was grinning. Even after a hundred years with this man, I still get tingles when he is inside me, especially when it is up in the sky over the clouds.

  Gravity? We don’t need no stinkin’ gravity.

  Oberon pulled away from my chest and grabbed my legs. When you are having sex up in the sky, the rules all change. His dick is up my butt, and that makes him the “top,” but we have sex in three-dimensional space. Positions you can’t even imagine become ordinary. He pulled himself in using my legs as he stayed locked about a half turn, like two letter Ys connected at their branch. Within a few minutes, Oberon was pounding my ass, and I was holding his legs so I could pull him with every one of his thrusts.

  Just then I heard a distant sound. Friggin’ jet is coming.

  When you are above the clouds, you have a whole new set of things to worry about. I don’t mind who sees us fuck, but Oberon says they should be voluntary voyeurs. A jet flying by will have passengers who aren’t expecting to see two men fucking on the top of a cloud, even if it is at night.

  Most of the time, humans don’t notice vampires floating. There’s something about a levitating vamp that doesn’t get processed in the human mind. Children see us because they don’t know people can’t levitate. Oberon wants privacy when there’s any chance children are around. I understand, but it interrupts the mood.

  Our first visitors were sparrows. I remember how funny it was, and the birds didn’t seem to mind. Oberon and I laughed so hard that we almost forgot why we were levitating. Almost forgot, but somehow we managed. It was a hundred years ago, and those particular birds are probably dead or they’ve flown on.

  The first time an airplane came by, I was shocked. Humans don’t see vampires flying because they don’t expect to see us in the air. Well, vampires don’t expect humans to be up there. There was a time humans couldn’t get up there, and sharing cloud-space took some adjustment. The first airplane was a two-winged thing, and those old planes moved so slowly. Oberon and I gave quite a performance. I remember the look on one of the passengers’ face: drop-jawed, cross-eyed. He probably swore off whisky for months. Most human adults don’t see us, but this one got an eyeful.

  Two guys above the clouds over Germany: we’ve been fucking like that for a hundred years, and it still gives me goose bumps to think about it. I’ve been head over heels (literally) in love with Oberon for a century. We’ve held up pretty well for our age.

  We’re used to planes now. Jets pass quickly, but we usually let ourselves float into the cloud a little. One time we floated too far into the cloud and almost got sliced into small pieces by the jet’s wings.

  Technology is such a bother. Fucking up above the clouds used to be easier. Oh, the simple times of yesteryear.

  VAMPIRES can’t catch most human diseases. We don’t get HIV or the clap or herpes. Some human blood donors want to use condoms anyway, and all the vampires respect that. In fact, if Oberon and I have more than one human in bed, condoms are mandatory. We don’t want to risk the humans giving each other something.

  We can catch hepatitis. I think it is hepatitis C that we catch, but it is more like having a human cold or influenza. In a week or two, everything is back to normal. Hepatitis is really annoying, though. I was glad when Menz began monthly health screening for all the human donors. They get tested for everything from lice to lymphoma. If there is a problem, Menz makes sure they get the best care possible, even if they will never be healthy enough to be a blood donor again. Menz is Vampire Do-Right, and he demands the same from all the vampires who sleep under his roof.

  I HAVE a daily agenda. As soon as the sun goes down, my eyes pop open. Okay, that’s a lie. Oberon is up quickly. My lover can go from dead-as-a-friggin’-doornail to full-tilt-boogie in a flash. I’m groggy when I come to life at sunset.

  Oberon almost always sends one of the blood donors to our room so I can get my daily fix of human blood. It doesn’t help to drink the blood of another vampire. It has to be human blood, although animal blood will do in an emergency. As soon as my fangs find their mark, I drink for about twenty or thirty seconds. If I hit a vein or artery, it goes more quickly, but I try not to do that. It is hard to get the vein closed when you’re groggy.

  Breakfast in bed. It isn’t that Oberon is trying to be a thoughtful husband (which he is), but he wants me to be fully awake while I am still in bed. He has an agenda, too, and it usually involves my butt. After a hundred years, I know his schedule.

  As soon as I’ve fed after one particular sunset, Oberon was back on the bed and nibbling my balls. Oberon did not just want a quickie! Nice.

  He let his tongue explore my treasure trove and chest until he was over my mouth. I smelt my own aroma in his mouth. His arms reached under my back, and he pulled me off the bed. We levitated a few centimeters in the air as he hugged me and kissed me. With his left arm holding the back of my neck, he let his right hand slide down to my butt cheek while his tongue explored my mouth.

  I rolled him over so I was on top. This was Oberon, so my cock was not going to be going inside his butthole, but I wanted to caress my man from the top. He let me. Each nipple had a little bit of black hair, long and smooth. I gently bit his right tit, and he groaned from pleasure. Oberon pulled my head back up, but I wasn’t finished with his stomach. I resisted his pull and moved toward his rod. I first licked it. Tasty. Then I opened my mouth wide and got his dick completely in my mouth before I closed my lips around it.

  Vampire fangs are always a factor during sex. If a vampire is hard, you can assume that fangs are extended. When my husband is hard, it is safe to assume that I am too. Plenty of fangs on the bed…. I usually tried to keep my fangs from breaking the skin of Oberon’s dick, but not today. I gently let my fangs slide into the skin of his dick as he growled and groaned.

  Oberon doesn’t usually get into oral action. He says mouths are for touching other mouths. This time, he wanted to fuck, but he le
t me have my way with him. My mouth filled with his blood before the holes started closing. Wounds on a vampire heal in seconds, and my vampire saliva makes the healing even faster. Without any warning, I felt Oberon’s climax. It wasn’t an explosion, but my mouth was suddenly full of both blood and cum. After a hundred years with Oberon, I can almost always tell when he is about to have an orgasm, but he surprised me this time.

  “Mmmm,” he said. “I liked that.”

  I just left my mouth in place for a while as I swallowed his blood and spew. He didn’t get soft but for a minute. His dick went down but then started getting hard again almost immediately. I lifted off my mouth and pulled the last bit of juice with my hand and licked it from his tip.

  Oberon was back in control. He pulled my head and kissed my tits, working his way up to give me a long kiss. His tongue found my fangs as he pulled us both into the air and rotated. I could taste myself in his mouth. He reached down with both hands and pulled apart my butt cheeks. The tip of his donkey-dick was waiting right at my hole. I could feel that it was still wet from earlier.

  When Oberon makes love, the first stroke is slow. I tried to pull on his waist to get him to move faster, but he just ignored my wishes. Oberon was completely in charge. He knew what he liked, and he knew how to get it. He is a complete fuck-machine, loving and tender sometimes, but still a fuck-machine. When I felt his pubes, I knew that he was completely inside. He leaned down to give me a long kiss as his hips changed direction. No other part of his body moved. His hips were doing all the work. His first retreat was almost as slow as the first thrust. Oberon’s pace picked up, but it stayed slow. His mouth never left mine. We made love for longer than usual, which told me that Oberon was holding back. He could plow me and finish in a minute or two if he wanted. This night, he just wanted to feel himself inside me. I loved it. My arms were around his neck, and my legs were on his shoulders.

  He made us float off the bed, and we hung about a meter off the floor in the middle of the bedroom. Slowly he picked up the pace as we rotated in the air. Sometimes he was on top, and sometimes I was. Whatever our orientation, Oberon had total control of my body. He had my undivided attention, holding me tight. I wanted it to last for hours, and it did. He was so tender tonight, so loving. Each thrust hit my prostate. His penis isn’t thick, but it is really long. Every time he hit my prostate, I saw stars.

  Whatever position we are in, I always know that Oberon is looking at me. So many men close their eyes during sex, but he always looks directly into my eyes. It is an amazing feeling because he looks like he loses himself in my eyes.

  Oberon built up like a smooth crescendo, but the night’s second orgasm was more of a fast glissando than an explosion.

  When my butt was full of Oberon’s essence, he stayed still but floated us back over to the bed. We stayed in the embrace for four or five minutes.

  This time, I felt Oberon’s tool getting soft.

  Wow.

  After he pulled out of me, I felt Oberon’s fangs gently sink into my chest. He drank my blood, not for nutrition, but for the intimacy of our shared life force. He then moved to lick cum from my stomach. Yes, my whole stomach was an ocean of cum, all without him ever touching my dick.

  I mean, friggin’ wow.

  I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to move. The bedside clock told me we had made love for over an hour, and I just wanted to bask in that freshly fucked glow.

  I fought back tears. What did I ever do to deserve to be in love with this man? A hundred years with him, and I look forward to a thousand years more. Friggin’ wow.

  “I love you,” he whispered as he cupped the back of my neck.

  I TAUGHT myself how to shoot with pistols, rifles, and crossbows. Down in the basement of the mansion are some secret rooms where we can make silver bullets. Silver doesn’t kill a vampire unless it blows the head off completely, but wounds caused by silver heal as slowly as a bullet wound in a human. Silver hurts like you can’t even imagine. I know—I’ve been stabbed and shot with silver. A couple of times, I wished that silver were fatal to vampires, because being wounded with a silver weapon is the most painful thing you can imagine. Ouch.

  A silver stake will disable a vampire. Put a silver-plated chain over a vampire, and he won’t be able to move. You don’t even have to lock the chains. Just lay them across the vampire’s body and you have just captured yourself a vampire… who is going to be really grumpy about the treatment if he can get somebody to remove the chains. You probably don’t want to be anywhere close to a vampire that grumpy.

  Crossbows let me put a silver stake into a vampire’s chest from a hundred meters away. Yeah, it is an unfair advantage. If I wanted to be fair, I would just get up close enough to rip the guy’s head off. There are vampires you don’t want to get close to. Dangerous. Lethal. No sense of humor. No second chances. I need to up my odds when I am forced to fight a real bad guy.

  Most of the human donors have no idea what happens in the basement. Menz doesn’t tell them about our weapons or about silver. Ignorance makes for healthier vampires. The last thing I want to have is lethal humans running around the estate. Hamlet is bad enough, even if all the pain he inflicts is theoretically for my education.

  I’m okay with a pistol, and I get by with a crossbow. My weapon of choice is the M40, which is a sniper rifle from the United States. I can wipe out a wasp’s wings four hundred meters (about a quarter mile) away with the M40. When I am lying down and fully relaxed, I just don’t miss with this weapon. Silver isn’t the best metal for long-range, but I make do.

  Oberon studied bullets and what makes them lethal. He has a whole workshop locked away in the basement. I don’t really understand what he’s done, but it is some kind of bullet made with copper and silver. The tip of the bullet is dented, which Oberon swears makes the thing more stable. The insides of Oberon’s bullets are hollow. I think the copper is for strength, because silver isn’t a very strong metal. He has played with steel instead of copper, but the current batch is copper. Don’t ask me about the science behind any of this. In effect, Oberon has created a flying bomb. As soon as it gets inside the vampire, the bullet explodes. Little shards of silver bring down the bad guy in an instant. I’ve found the absolute best place to shoot is the vampire’s upper lip. For some reason, the bullet gets inside the head just right before it explodes. If you take out a vampire’s head with silver shrapnel, you’ve just punched that vampire’s ticket. He does not pass go. He does not collect €200.

  Do I like shooting vampires? No, but some vampires cause trouble and need to be stopped. I would much rather take down one of those bad guys in a fair fight, but I don’t always win fair fights. When a vampire loses, it is almost always fatal.

  I like the fighting, not the killing. But if you live at Menz’s estate, you have to help keep rogue vampires under control. It is part of the deal. It is expected.

  OBERON, Hamlet, and I decided to go dancing in Munich. That’s just a few seconds from the estate by air. I got into my standard leather. It isn’t that I try to come across as a tough-ass, but I love the feel. I have a body that really shows off a pair of leather pants. I have a black leather pullover shirt. Guys who wear leather out to a bar usually go for a fetish look, with some kind of threatening-looking military cap and little or nothing for a shirt. Maybe they wear a harness or a leather dog collar with chrome studs. Oh, please. Leather is what I like to wear to dance, but it isn’t a fetish thing.

  Oberon was in his usual Gothic garb. He filled out a tight silk shirt with ruffles. His pants and waistcoat were both black. They looked like “period attire” because they were. I was with him when he bought them, in the 1930s. For a night on the town, my lover usually spends more time on his face: guy-liner, lipstick. He does highlights on his cheeks. Oberon doesn’t need any of those things; he is drop-dead gorgeous without any extra anything, but painting himself makes him feel better. When I saw him, he already had his “game face” on, and he was sulking like a good lit
tle Goth.

  “What does your husband do for a living?” they’d ask.

  “He sulks,” I’d say.

  OBERON and I are always ready long before Hamlet. He has to look perfect. He’s cute. Not my type, but I know cute. He’s boyish and holding up well for being over a hundred years old.

  I turned him in the 1930s. It was to get him to shut up. I had heard Hamlet whine about becoming a vampire for years before I told Menz that we really should let him have his wish. It took a year of discussions and negotiations with the vampire powers-that-be in Europe, but they finally agreed. Their reasons were basic: they were tired of Hamlet hounding them every few weeks, and they wanted some peace and quiet.

  The turning was hard. I had already turned Oberon, and it went fairly smoothly.

  Hamlet took two weeks. I had to feed on him twice a day.

  When a vampire takes human blood, little machines inside the vampire convert the human blood into vampire blood. A turning happens when a vampire completely drains a human and then starts feeding the human. It is mainly the human’s own converted blood being returned.

  Hamlet was as difficult a turn as anybody had ever seen. I couldn’t just drain him completely in one or two days. A human holds several liters of blood, and that would make any vampire pass out for days. Blood intoxication.

  Hamlet’s body was really good at making new blood. I would drink until I nearly exploded or passed out, and he was almost recovered by the next day. It took me several days to drain him enough to put him in a coma. At that stage, I knew that the turning would probably be a success, but Hamlet’s body kept repairing itself.

  He’s always been tougher on the inside than he is on the outside.

  Menz, Menz’s lover, Paco, and Oberon took turns being by his bedside each night. During the day, we had blood donors to sit and watch. I have no idea what the blood donors would have done if something happened, but it was nice that they were there. At the time, Menz had a human servant named Tavin, and he was always around during daylight hours.