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Vamps 2/2 (mf, ff, group, gothic)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
(continued from Part 1)
Maya followed me back to the master bedroom and I had
the sense to keep my mouth shut. My paternal feelings for
her were minimal just then but I could hardly ask her to
come to my bed after making a point of telling her it was
her home, too.
As it turned out, she made no dramatic scene of her
decision. She simply slipped off her clothing and strolled
into the master bath. As I undressed, I heard her tidying
herself up and then the sound of the toilet. Rather than
precede her into bed, I stood there naked for the thirty
seconds it took her to reappear. I wondered why I hadn't
gotten an erection yet -- I wasn't *that* tired -- and
decided my relaxed state must be attributable to Maya's calm
assumptions. She was behaving as I supposed an experienced
wife would do, had our kind indulged in such a thing as
marriage. Also, I was unaccountably nervous and that
surprised me a great deal.
Than May came out of the bathroom, combing her fingers
back through her hair. It was probably my expression that
brought the faint smile to her lips. She walked up to me,
put her arms around my neck, and pressed her pale body
against mine as if we had been embracing for centuries.
Then she kissed me with great authority.
In the company of ordinary women, I always knew I was
in the superior psychological position, the position of
control. But I couldn't surreptitiously control Maya's mind
or actions any more than she could secretly influence me. I
suspect that's why sexual unions among our people seldom
last long: We're too used to being in control of those
around us.
My hands were moving slowly up and down her shoulder
blades and she leaned back against my arms to get a look at
my face. "Why do you seem so surprised, Graeme? Didn't you
know we would reach this point eventually?" She shifted her
thighs against my cock, which was finally getting the
message; she felt its stirrings and smiled again.
"No, Maya, I didn't know. I wanted it -- I wanted
*you* -- but I tried not to think about it. I didn't to
pressure you and I didn't want to be disappointed." I took
a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "It doesn't come easily
to us, does it? To care about another person.... Perhaps
you're the exception, my dear -- you're so young and your
experience has been so... peculiar. Did you learn to love?
In the convent?"
She became reflective. "I thought I did -- at first.
After the first few decades, seeing the sisters die around
me, I closed down those feelings. For my own protection, I
suppose." She shrugged uneasily. "This isn't love, though
-- is it? I thought this was 'sex'. I've subdued my
appetites without sex being involved, of course. Nuns
aren't supposed to screw on a regular basis, you know. But
before entering the Order, whenever sex *was * involved, the
interlude always ended with me feeding on my partner. That
certainly wasn't love, though I may have thought it was when
I was very young." She looked at me quizzically. "Have you
never been in love? Never in your whole life?"
"No, never. Our people don't experience 'love' in the
usual human sense. Or so I've always believed, and so has
every other person of my acquaintance."
She stroked my cheek. "That seems almost sad, doesn't
it?" she asked quietly. "Yes, I can understand that, if
those you love are constantly dying around you.... But can
one vampire perhaps love another?"
I had no answer to that, having never felt an emotion
for anyone that I could recognize as love. And I wasn't
quite able to examine my feelings for Maya in that light,
not yet. I settled for a shrug. I was also willing to
settle for sex at this point. And that reminder made my
cock twitch.
Maya felt the vibration and gave me another flash of
that knowing smile that all females among the intelligent
primates seem to come by genetically. Her warm hand wrapped
itself around the stalk and squeezed gently -- and then not
so gently. Still smiling, she backed toward the bed,
leading me with her by the obvious handle. It was an
unusual reversal since I'd always been the initiator, and
Maya's sense of erotic play was both delightful and
revelatory.
She reached the foot of the bed and sat, stretching my
organ the few inches upward to her lips. Then she inhaled
its head and moved her tongue all around the edges and back
and forth over the hole at the tip. I had a fantasy-flash
of a class of young postulants in gray and white taking
instruction in cocksucking from a stern, elderly nun. Where
*had* Maya learned how to do this? Or did she simply
possess an excellent recall of her youthful activities?
My cock was raised vertically as she steered her warm,
wet lips across and beneath my scrotum, sucking in first the
loose folds, then the balls. She tightened her oral grip
carefully and tugged, creating just a hint of erotic as well
as physical tension, and it occurred to me how far I had
come to trust her. However deeply buried, her predatory
instincts were the same as mine, as was her physical
strength. She could emasculate me in half an instant. But
her upward glances to gauge my reaction convinced me I had
nothing to fear.
Then I felt the briefest sharpness as her second
incisors slid down and pricked the skin over my balls. That
was all, just the slightest needle-touch, when she might
have speared me. It may even have been unintentional; our
drinking teeth emerge sometimes as an uncontrolled reaction,
like a cat unsheathing its claws when it feels relaxed. I
stroked Maya's hair and traced the rims of her ears with my
fingers and tried not to moan too loudly.
She released her grip and lay back on the bed, quietly
waiting. Her thighs extended on either side of my knees and
she hunched her pubic region slightly upward, calling me to
her, I thought. In many ways, we're not that different from
homo sapiens.
I knelt on the bed and her legs moved farther apart. I
bent over her and stared into her remarkable green eyes and
saw my reflection in her expanding pupils. We kissed
softly, slowly. There was no hurry for people like us. I
nibbled at her earlobes and her smooth, pale neck and she
stroked my hair and made small, pleasure-filled sounds.
When I moved down and fastened my mouth on a very pink and
very hard nipple, she inhaled deeply and shuddered. After a
minute or two, I began to leave a trail of kisses down her
breastbone and onto the taut plane of her diaphragm, but she
divined my intent.
"Some other time, Graeme." She tugged me back up her
body. "I would love to have your mouth between my legs, but
right now I want to find out how well we fit." She leered
and spread her knees as wide as she could. "Tab 'A' into
Slot 'B' -- isn't that how it goes?"
Tab "A" was more rigid than it had been in many years.
I leered back, to which she responded with a girlish giggle,
and then I eased myself into her, still in no hurry. This
promised to be a momentous experience and I intended to milk
it for all it was worth. Half a dozen slow, grinding
strokes later, Maya's legs were wrapped tightly about my
upper back and she was breathing hard and in rhythm with me.
"Ohhhh... You're doing this on purpose, you-- Fuck me,
damn it! Oh, sweet Jesus..." Her moan died away and she
gulped twice. Then she opened her eyes wide and stared at
me even as I increased the tempo. "Graeme, I just-- I can't
believe I just now tried to lock onto your mind! To make
you fuck me harder! Dear God, you're making me crazy for
sure!"
I laughed softly. We both knew assertive suggestion
didn't work, didn't even meaningfully exist, between the two
of us -- but she had unconsciously tried to control me
anyway. I chose to take it as a compliment. And I began to
ram my cock into her harder than before, making her head
jerk on the pillow at each thrust. She bit her lip and
squeezed her eyes shut and arched her head back. This was
what she wanted from me and I gave it to her.
Her fingernails were leaving long, red tracks across my
shoulder blades, I was sure. Her legs locked around my
torso were beginning to squeeze painfully tight -- she could
crack my ribs if she lost control -- so, between one stroke
and the next, I grabbed her knees and forced them almost
roughly against her chest. Her legs sprang apart and she
gasped with the shock before she realized why I'd done what
I'd done. Then she put her own hands behind her knees and
pulled them as far back and as far apart as she could
manage, and groaned as I took advantage of her posture to
plunge far into her depths.
A few more minutes like that and I knew I couldn't
delay any longer. Maya sensed my impending orgasm and
whispered "Yessss..." as she rocketed into her own
shuddering climax -- the ripples of which touched me off. I
marveled that my body could produce so much semen; my balls
must be shrunken to the size of grapes.
I managed not to collapse atop her but I didn't want to
roll off her overheated body, either. I managed to ease my
weight down upon her slowly and gently, my cock still buried
within her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and sighed
into my ear with exhausted satisfaction.
"It's never been like that," she murmured. "Maybe it's
because we're both... who we are. Or maybe..."
"Maya," I whispered back. "Shut up."
She chuckled and hugged me tighter. "Yeah..."
Eventually, I did roll off, of course, but we remained
entwined for most of the night. I awoke just before dawn
because my left arm was numb; Maya's head lay on my bicep,
her face half-hidden by a tangle of that lovely red hair.
I eased my arm out, careful not to wake her, and made faces
in the half-dark as the blood poured back into my
defenseless arm.
After the feeling had returned, I simply lay there and
studied Maya's features for awhile. I felt possessive and
protective toward her. Was that love? Or paternal
instinct? I doubted it mattered. If I was very, very
lucky, Maya would remain with me for a year or so. By that
time, I would have taught her everything she should know
about being one of us, and she would become restless and go
out to discover the world for herself. It saddened me in
advance to know it would happen, but I wouldn't -- couldn't
-- cheat her by making her too dependent on me. I would
enjoy the time we did have, I thought, and I would look
forward to seeing her at intervals down through the years.
Then I heard a small sound from the other end of the
hall and realized I'd nearly forgotten about my young
friend. I eased out of the bed and padded naked and silent
down the hall to check on her. In the faint light that was
beginning to seep between the slats of the shutters, I could
see only a shock of silky black hair above the covers. The
girl had burrowed almost under the pillow and was snoring
softly. I knew it was the best night's sleep she'd had in
probably quite some time.
She must have been living on her own for months or
years because, as silent as I knew I had been, I was aware
of a sudden alarm in the back of her mind. I wondered for a
moment if I should put her back into a deep sleep, but then
it was too late. The covers jerked down and she was peering
up at me cautiously, eyes wide open.
I hunkered down beside the bed, partly because I didn't
wish her to misconstrue my nakedness and partly just to get
myself down to her level. She stared at me for a moment
before recognition appeared in her gaze. Then she was
staring at the cotton sheet balled up in her fist.
"Where am I? How did I get here? Did you-- Did
we...?" That rattle of Portuguese were the first words I'd
ever heard her speak and I was entranced by her melodious
soprano voice. She sat up in bed suddenly. Her sheet fell
away but she ignored her own nudity. She looked around
quickly and saw her tote bag on the floor and her clothing
on the chair. That seemed to calm her a little. Maya had
been right.
"No, we didn't," I said gently -- also in Portuguese --
and smiled. "Though you are indeed a lovely girl and I was
sorely tempted." She glanced down at herself but made no
attempt to cover her body. "We found you -- a friend and I
-- sleeping on the beach. You were in a dangerous location,
and not well concealed, and plainly cold, so we brought you
back here and put you to bed. You were so tired, you never
awakened." Well, it was almost the truth. "Do you have a
name? I've never learned it, you know."
She hesitated, as if knowing her name would give me
magical powers over her. "Anna," she said.
"Well, Anna -- I'm Graeme, and I'm very pleased to meet
you." And I held out my hand. She took it automatically --
and then grinned broadly as she realized how ludicrous the
situation was.
"Do you want to...?" She made as if to move over in
the bed, prepared to pay for her night's lodging.
"No, Anna, that isn't why we brought you here. You
posed for my camera and I say that makes us friends. And
friends help each other out, don't they? No, what you can
do for me...." She waited to see what would be expected of
her, a slightly resigned expression on her face. "...is to
get a little more sleep, if you like, and then go and take a
long, hot shower. Your bathroom is right over there, across
the hall. You've been bathing in the ocean too long, don't
you think? And don't put those clothes back on -- not yet.
We'll see about getting them washed properly." I gestured
to the thick bathrobe on the foot of the bed. "Wear that
for breakfast, all right?"
I stood and Anna glanced quickly at my groin and then
back at my face. I knew I didn't have an erection and she
seemed reassured. She lay down again and snuggled back
under the covers. "This is very nice," she said. "And so
are you, Graeme." Her smile this time seemed more like her
chronological age.
I paused at the door. "My room -- our room -- is at
the other end of the hall and we have our own bathroom, so
take your time, my dear. And we'll see you at breakfast."
Her eyelids were already drooping again and I pulled the
door nearly shut, to give her privacy; I doubted she'd ever
had much of it.
Two hours later, I was leaning against the kitchen
counter, barefoot and shirtless, sipping my hot chocolate
while Maya prepared breakfast. She wore only a red silk
kimono and I very much enjoyed observing her smooth
competence as she sliced bananas lengthwise and laid them
carefully in the sizzling palm oil. Several mangoes waited
their turn at the knife and we were arguing playfully over
the need (or not) for sausage with the fried eggs -- a North
American taste I had adopted long ago.
I'd heard the shower running a short while before and
now a movement in the doorway made me turn my head. Anna
seemed nearly lost in the big, white bathrobe: It came down
to her ankles and the sleeves covered all but the tips of
her fingers. Her still-damp hair cascaded over the turn-up
collar and her dark eyes shone from the depths of the
terrycloth.
My companion turned to smile at her and I made the
introductions. "Maya, this is our houseguest -- Anna."
Keeping her voice soft, she said, "How do you do, Anna?
Did you sleep well?"
The half-hidden return smile was shy. "Yes, I did --
thank you." Her nose twitched. "That smells good!" She
fidgeted a little, torn between adolescent hunger and an
apparent desire to be on her best behavior with her
benefactors.
Maya laughed and nudged me toward the big, round,
Victorian table that was the focus of my kitchen. She
picked up a serving platter and a wooden spatula as I pulled
out a chair and raised my eyebrows in Anna's direction. The
girl hurried over and sat and I scooted her up to the table;
she beamed in delight at my gentlemanly treatment of her and
began turning up her sleeves.
We didn't speak much for the first quarter-hour of the
meal, all mouths being otherwise occupied. Anna's tidy
table manners bespoke a good middle-class upbringing, though
that didn't slow her down any. Maya finally poured
cafezinho for the two of us -- Anna was on her second glass
of foamy, unhomogenized milk -- and we traded secret smiles
across the table. Anna glanced from my face to Maya's and
looked thoughtful.
Now that we had broken bread and were more relaxed, I
felt able to ask questions. "Anna, could you satisfy my
curiosity about something?"
A touch of wariness returned to her face. "I'll try,
senhor."
"It's obvious you didn't grow up in the bairro and you
seem reasonably healthy and well-fed. How did you come to
be living on the beach like that, with so few possessions?"
She studied the few crumbs left on her plate and gnawed
her lower lip. I felt a moment of guilt and almost
retracted the question, but she took a deep breath and fixed
me with a solemn gaze.
"Yes, senhor, I come from a good family -- I'd rather
not say which one. But three years ago, when I was ten, my
father was killed in a motor accident. He was a strong man
but also a gentle man and I loved him very much. It was
very hard when he died." She paused and sighed. I had the
impression she'd never told anyone about her family before,
not straight out like this.
"My mother...." she went on, "it was even worse for
her. She depended so much on my father. Not just to feed
us all; my mother is a fine woman but not very strong. She
has never been very good at making decisions about things.
We had the insurance money and we were all right for a year
or so. But then someone introduced my mother to... to that
man." The sudden loathing in her voice was startling.
And suddenly I understood. "He married your mother,
didn't he?" I asked carefully. "And I think you didn't
like him very much, did you?"
"I hate him -- but not just because he married my
mother! He said *he* was my father now and I had to do
whatever he said -- but the things he made me do---" She
stopped, breathing hard, and stared at her plate again. "My
mother wouldn't do anything about it. That man made it so
she wouldn't have to make decisions at all any more, and she
liked that. Last summer, I decided I'd had enough of him.
So I ran away."
Maya had sat down again across from me and now she
stroked Anna's thick, black hair sympathetically, tucking it
behind her ear and smoothing it back. The girl leaned
against her hand, needing the friendly contact.
"You decided you couldn't go to the police," I said,
stating the obvious. "They wouldn't have believed you
against your stepfather. They would just send you home and
things would be even worse for you." Anna looked up, tears
oozing down one side of her nose, and nodded in gratitude at
my understanding.
"I had a backpack, with clothes and a little money and
two of my favorite books in it. But some older kids took it
all the second day. My jacket and walking shoes, too.
Bandidos -- bastardos!" She quickly wiped away the tears
with the heel of her hand and raised her chin. "I swore I
wouldn't go back, and I didn't! I found people -- men --
who would feed me and buy me things and take care of me if I
let them-- If I went to bed with them. Most of them were
nice enough and I stayed for weeks, sometimes. And if they
turned out to be not so nice, I left. But *I* decide!" she
added defiantly.
I believe that's why I continue to regard children who
have reached puberty as "young adults," capable of making
their own decisions in life if they are allowed to -- and if
they have been taught how. I've never been a rapist,
psychic or otherwise, even in those earlier times when it
was expected by both conquering men and conquered women and
girls. I've fed myself, sometimes by force, when I had to,
naturally ... but never at the expense of someone I
considered blameless.
"Anna, I shall make you a promise." I took her hand
and regarded her seriously. "You may stay here with us if
you choose. Or you may go at any time and for any reason --
or for no reason at all. I'll not expect sexual favors of
you in return. I have no children but I have a great deal
of money, Anna, and I may choose to spend a little of it on
you, if you'll allow me to. Call it an indulgence." I
squeezed her hand for emphasis. "But no one will force you
to do anything. Not while you're under my protection. I'm
not your father and I wouldn't pretend to be; I'm your
friend. We became friends on the beach when you posed for
me, remember? I would enjoy taking more photographs of you
if you would allow me to, but that also is your decision and
it has no bearing on whether or not you decide to stay here
awhile. Do you understand?"
It was a long speech and the girl stared at me for a
minute or two, taking it in and turning it over in her mind,
comparing the offer with her recent experiences, I imagined.
"Up until last night, I'd been living on the beach for two
months," she went on, as if I'd said nothing at all. "I was
beginning to get desperate. That's why I..." She glanced
at Maya, who nodded for her to continue. "That's why I took
off my top when I saw you'd come back to the beach that day.
I was trying to make you interested in me, so you'd take me
home with you for awhile. I was trying to sell myself to
you, senhor...." She looked down and I saw the tips of her
ears turning bright red. "But then, I suddenly felt that I
*had* to go to you, to do whatever you wanted, whether you
took me in or not. I don't know why! And I dreamed about
you for days afterward. And then you came again, and you
... rescued me."
She looked quickly at Maya. "Please don't be angry,
senhora -- he didn't do anything! It was me!" She was
ignoring the memory of my finger stroking her turgid nipple.
Maya laughed lightly and touched the girl's pleading
face. "I'm not a 'senhora', Anna. I'm a guest here, too.
This place belongs to Graeme; I'm just sharing it with him.
And I can share him with you, as well, if you wish it."
Neither the girl nor I knew how to respond to that
unexpected offer. And then Maya rose lithely and began
clearing away the ruins of our breakfast. "Why don't we all
stay in and rest today?" she suggested lightly. "And
tomorrow, I think, would be a good day to see what the
stores in this city have to offer in the way of young girls'
clothing."
Maya took general charge of our shopping expedition the
next day, which progressed in stages, like a proper military
campaign. She consulted with me regarding the extent to
which Anna's wardrobe should be enhanced and I laughingly
replied that this was *her* area of expertise, not mine; I
intended to follow along behind, paying sales clerks and
carrying packages. That got me a five-minute kiss -- worth
every cent I ended up paying, and far more.
Then she estimated the young girl's sizes and made a
quick trip to a local shop for blue jeans, underwear, a
tee-shirt, and a pair of sandals: That much allowed Anna to
walk into any store without embarrassment, since the only
presentable garment she owned was her thong bikini, which
she couldn't wear on the street -- even in Bahia.
We took our time, browsing and allowing our young guest
to try things on at length before making each selection.
Anna was cautious at first, having developed a mistrust os
largesse, but by lunchtime she was excited and enthusiastic.
Maya didn't go overboard, either. Several pairs of slacks
and matching blouses, additional jeans and pullovers, two
"nice" summer dresses, and one pair each of white pumps and
white Nikes. After lunch, she added a Philadelphia Phillies
baseball cap -- not that Anna knew or cared anything about
American baseball. She just liked the colors. We also
helped her select, without comment, a modest canvas duffel
bag with a shoulder strap. I guessed that was to be Anna's
escape hatch, at least psychologically.
Late in the afternoon, we walked all the way back to
the apartment since the weather was so pleasant, and
indulged in a two-hour siesta. Eventually, Anna crept into
our room and whispered something to Maya and the two of them
repaired to the other bedroom, from which I was temporarily
banned. And an hour after that, Maya emerged triumphantly
and urged me to sit in my rattan rocker in the middle of the
study so Anna could make a grand entrance.
I was amazed at her transformation (with Maya's
assistance) into a properly turned-out young teenager: White
dress and shiny white shoes, gleaming black hair pulled back
in a bobbing ponytail, and just a hint of lipstick and
blusher. Maya had lent her a necklace of thin gold
chain-links. She looked like she was on her way to evening
communion.
My pleasure at her revised appearance must have been
obvious because her face lit up like a beacon. She twirled,
showing off her new outfit and the cotton billowed and the
ponytail swung. I winked at Maya, who was justifiably a bit
smug; she'd also changed into a "going out to supper" dress,
which was a hint I couldn't ignore.
So I escorted my two lovely ladies out for an evening
on the town -- a first-class evening. First, a concert at
Campo Grande, with its magnificent lighting, followed by
supper at Le Saint Honore -- the best Continental cuisine in
South America and already in control of part of Maya's soul.
It was quite delightful to have a beautiful woman on each
arm; the maitre d' and the waiters, most of whom I knew,
seemed to think they must be my (previously unsuspected)
wife and daughter.
Anna smiled broadly at everyone who came within range
and utterly charmed the staff. Then, fortified by her
earlier nap, she asked hesitantly if we might go someplace
to dance afterward. I hadn't been out dancing in quite some
time, so we ended up around midnight at a place called
Hippopotamus -- crowded, noisy, and lots of fun. Anna
sipped at her Shirley Temple and ogled the crowd while Maya
and I massacred the samba. A boy of about sixteen asked her
to dance -- and she actually caught my eye to seek
permission before accepting the invitation. If I'd
developed slightly paternal feelings for Maya, I was going
to have to be *very* careful about Anna.
I had no idea what time it was when we left the club,
only that I was yawning as much my companions, both of whom
had finally run out of steam. We caught a cab home and Anna
was sound asleep with her head on my lap before we'd
traveled two blocks. Maya hung on my arm and purred and
whispered endearments and generally made me glad I'd lived
as long as I had, just to be able to meet her.
Over the next month or so, we settled into a
comfortable and familial routine. A casual inquiry about
Anna's progress in school at the time she'd left home
brought a polite but absolute refusal to consider
re-enrollment. Instead, she began to work her way
omnivorously through my extensive library (a feature of
living I regard as a necessity in every residence I've ever
owned).
I still walked the beaches around Bahia, but no longer
alone. Sometimes Maya would accompany me while Anna pursued
her self-guided studies or went off into the city on her own
unknown errands. She had a key to the penthouse now, and I
declined to ask what she did when she disappeared for an
entire morning. Or, Maya would be involved in something of
her own and Anna would come along for a stroll. And whether
she wore shorts on the beach or that devastating thong, she
often held my hand. It was a peaceful and fulfilling time
in my life.
Anna had discovered the enlarged photo of herself, of
course, and at times she could hardly keep her eyes off it.
Finally, she asked shyly if I would take more pictures of
her. I'd been sure she would ask eventually, and I had
already thought about poses and props.
So, while Maya roamed behind me, studying avidly
everything I did, I spread my young model across an antique
red velvet sofa in a rumpled white silk shirt that was far
too large for her; just the shirt and nothing else. Her
long, brown legs contrasted beautifully with the red and the
white and her thick, dark hair, spread across her face and
draped along her arm, made her seem mysterious. Anna
herself decided to remove the shirt and lean over the arm of
the sofa, hair curtaining her face, her small breast forming
a perfect, shallow curve. Another pose which was especially
successful featured her naked, lithe body in the open
doorway to a westward-facing balcony, silhouetted against a
rich brick-red sunset.
I developed all my work myself, of course, not allowing
either of the women to see the results until they were dry
and simply matted. When I unveiled the oversized prints,
Maya hugged me appreciatively. Anna simply stared at the
serene images of herself with her mouth open. When she
turned to me with an expression of disbelieving wonder, I
considered myself fully paid for my time and effort. But it
was easy, I knew, to make such a beautiful young woman
appear magical to the camera.
Maya and I continued our sexual explorations, of
course, and made no attempt to conceal them from our young
guest. Once, after a mid-afternoon romp in the sheets, we
emerged to find a grinning adolescent complaining that she
couldn't read with all the noise in the apartment. That
encounter degenerated into a tickling match in which I was
the general loser, being badly outnumbered. In fact, I
ended on my back with Anna sitting astride my waist and the
tickling evolved into warm, loving caresses and hugs. While
Maya was looking the other way, Anna reached back and tapped
my cock lightly through my trousers, as if to remind me she
was more than the innocent young girl she often appeared to
be. As if I'd ever forgotten it.
A few nights after that, I heard a whimpering sound
from down the hall and went to check. The poor girl had had
intermittent bad dreams ever since moving in, but they had
become much less frequent. I touched her shoulder and
whispered, "Wake up, my dear," and she sat straight up, eyes
wide and breathing labored. I put my arms around her and
she hung onto my neck as she got herself back under control.
But unlike earlier occasions when I'd offered her comfort,
this time she murmured in my ear, "May I come and sleep with
you and Maya?"
A worse than usual dream, I thought, so I scooped her
up and carried her back to our room. She slept in a
tee-shirt and panties and I was very aware, as before, of
the warmth of her ripening young body. I laid her on the
bed and she scooted sleepily over to the middle to give me
room. Maya awoke just enough to stroke her head a few times
and I fell asleep again with Anna's angular body snuggled up
against mine, her head resting lightly on my shoulder.
Early the next morning, I struggled to wakefulness
aware that I'd had some very sensual dreams ... and then I
discovered the reason for them. Anna's nose was nuzzling my
neck, she had flung one bare leg across me, and her long,
slender fingers were slowly stroking and petting my
semi-erect penis. I turned my head to try to focus on her
face and she whispered, "I love you, Graeme. You've been so
wonderful to me and I want to do something for you in
return."
I tried to protest but she put a finger to my lips. "I
know I don't have to. That's why I want to."
Her hand continued to work its magic, stroking and
squeezing until my cock was rigid and quivering. Her little
kitten tongue emerged and licked the underside of my chin,
giving me hot chills. She breathed into my ear: "Touch me,
Graeme. Touch me everywhere...." She wasn't in a position
to see my face so she was unaware of my drinking teeth
sliding in and out of their sheaths.
I clamped down hard on my unwanted visceral reaction,
not wanting to frighten her. Instead, I accepted her
explicit invitation and gave my desires free rein -- and I
began by hauling her tee-shirt off over her head. She
giggled at the hurry I was suddenly in and followed up by
stripping off her panties and then pushing my shorts down
below my knees so I could rid myself of them. I turned on
my side and Anna molded herself to me, front-to-front and
lips-to-knees. She pushed her hot little tongue into my
mouth with an urgency that raised my body temperature
another ten degrees. My cock was twitching against her
upper thigh and she recaptured it with one hand and began
rubbing the head against the moistness of her pussy. Her
other hand clutched the back of my neck possessively.
Meanwhile, I was running my fingers over as much of her
smooth, highly-charged body as I could reach ... exploring
her jutting shoulder blades and the long, curving
indentation of her spine, measuring the girth of her small
waist, cupping her muscular little ass in my trembling hand.
It was enough to cause sensory overload in a mere mortal.
Her hair draped itself over my ear and her eyelashes tickled
my cheek each time she blinked.
Glancing over her brown shoulder, I saw that our
activity had awakened Maya, who was quickly figuring out
what was going on. My sweet companion moved closer and
kissed the back of Anna's neck and the girl jumped and
looked back. Maya smiled sleepily and said, "Good morning,
pretty one."
I felt Anna hesitate in confusion for a moment, but
then Maya spread her hands across both globes of that
exciting little bottom and the girl squirmed and moaned
softly, accepting the attention as it was meant.
I needed both hands free for this work, so I wrapped my
arms around her strong, young body and rolled onto my back
with Anna stretched out on top of me. Maya immediately
moved closer and began scattering additional kisses across
the backs of her thighs and behind her knees. I hooked my
hands under her arms and easily drew her upward above me so
I could get my mouth on her delectable breasts. As I sucked
on a rigidifying nipple, Anna wound her restless fingers in
my hair and moaned again; it required considerable mental
discipline not to sink my teeth into that dark, turgid bud.
Anna reached back between her legs, fumbling for my
cock and mumbling in a low voice thick with arousal, "Put it
in, please put it in." I moved her back within range and
Maya unexpectedly assisted us by guiding my cock into Anna's
youthful cunt. The girl sat back on my organ, eyes shut
tight and knees outspread, trying to cram as much of me as
possible into herself.
Though she was hardly a virgin, her passage
nevertheless was snug and narrow. The head of my cock
pushed against her cervix and she shuddered delicately and
began moving herself slowly up and down. Maya had been
attracted to my testicles since our first night in bed
together; now she reached below Anna's thrusting ass and
squeezed my balls. At the same time, her other hand was
busily rubbing and manipulating her own clit.
The nerve-endings in my cock were sending joyous
signals back to my groin and throughout my body and I
couldn't suppress a gasp of undiluted pleasure. The dark
pupils of my young lover's eyes expanded until she resembled
a bird of prey crouched over me. I got a grip on her hips
and picked up the pace, lifting her almost completely free
of my and slamming her back down -- but I was careful to
keep my strength under control, even while jarring the
breath from her.
Maya crept up beside me and began softly chewing my
earlobe. "Want some breakfast?" she asked throatily. And
without waiting for a reply to her excessively rhetorical
question, she quickly rose onto her knees and settled
herself astride my face. I changed my grip from Anna's hips
to Maya's and drew her aromatic cunt down within reach of my
tongue. She squirmed and quivered even more than Anna had
as I sucked at her juicy labia and stirred my tongue around
in her depths. And she jerked and squeaked when I nipped at
her erect clit with my incisors.
Within a few moments, I was sucking and slurping with
abandon, Anna was crashing down on my cock like a
pile-driver, and I became aware that the women's hands were
busily fondling each other's breasts. Perhaps because she
was the least experienced, Anna was the first to reach
climax. I could almost visualize the psychic tidal wave
rising in her mind and I tapped its thundering energy to
propel myself into an explosive orgasm, filling her cunt so
full of semen that it began to leak out past that tight grip
and ooze down my crotch. Maya must have been tuned in to
the same wavelength because her knees clamped against my
ears and rush of moist warmth flowed down from between her
legs.
I finally urged Maya off me before I either drowned or
suffocated and she toppled gracefully onto the bed, climbed
immediately back to her knees, and held out her arms to the
girl. Anna stayed where she was, skewered like a hare,
while the two of them embraced and kissed passionately.
A little while later, Maya and I lay stretched out on
top of the covers while Anna was in the bathroom. "She's
quite marvelous," Maya commented thoughtfully. "I think I'm
finally beginning to understand what love is...."
I nodded silently; I'd been having similar thoughts
about both women. Maya was of my own kind and Anna was not.
Could my growing feelings for the two of them really be the
same?
But Maya's train of thought seemed to be paralleling
mine. "There's going to be a problem, you know, Graeme: How
long will she stay?"
"As long as she cares to; you heard me say that and I
meant it."
"Yes, of course -- but how long will that be, do you
think?"
I considered. "Perhaps a year. Maybe two, but I doubt
it. As soon as she feels secure again on her own, she'll be
gone. And I shall miss her."
Maya stroked my arm. "I think you're wrong, Graeme.
Even though neither of us has tampered with her mind or her
will, I believe she will decide to stay with us
indefinitely. Or she may not make a conscious decision at
all ... but that will be the outcome."
This conversation puzzled me. "You may be right, my
dear; your experience with adolescent female psychology is
more recent than my own. But wouldn't it please you if she
did choose to stay? Think of the traveling we--"
She shook my arm impatiently. "Think about it, Graeme!
In fifteen years, assuming she didn't marry and move on in
the meantime, that girl will be nearly thirty years old --
and I will appear to be no older than she is! People will
mistake us for sisters! And then what will she think?"
Damn. The blindness of old habits. How could that not
have occurred to me? "Well... we'll just have to tell her
what we are, then. Slowly and carefully, of course, to
allow her to get used to the idea."
"From what I've discovered of Brazil in the past few
months -- from what you've taught me, Graeme -- her mental
furniture is most likely a mix of Catholic dogma and black
and Indian superstition. Do you really think she could deal
with such a revelation? For that matter, you told me
yourself that you had *never* revealed your true nature to
any of the short-lived. You said it was a cautionary
instinct among our people. Well... *your* ancestors,
anyway, since we don't know yet how I came about...."
I chewed on that for several minutes. Everything Maya
said was more or less true. I tried to picture myself
sitting down with Anna and explaining calmly that the two
adults to whom she was closest were vampires. Either she
would believe me or she wouldn't, and neither possibility
was very palatable. I could easily plant an assertive
suggestion in her mind, urging her to leave her newfound
home after, say, four or five years -- but to do so would
not only break the promise I'd made to myself not to tamper
with this girl psychically, it would also leave her highly
vulnerable to further suggestions from any of my relations
she might run into. And I could think of no other options;
the result of too many centuries being who I was.
I sighed in frustration. "All right, my dear. You
seem to have given this matter some thought. Do you have a
suggestion?"
"I think I do -- but you're not going to like it.
Graeme... consider what Anna is." She hesitated. "I don't
say this lightly -- didn't I just say I'm already in love
with her? -- but *I* haven't forgotten that she's *not* one
of us. Have you?"
"No, of course not."
"Then why should we regard that sweet child as being
essentially different from any other human? They're
'cattle', aren't they? Your words, Graeme. I think our
only possible course is obvious."
I turned my head sharply and stared at her, unable to
believe for a moment what she was saying. "You think we
should *feed* on the poor girl, Maya?! On someone who--"
"Why 'poor girl'?" she interrupted. "You've felt
passion and affection before for human women who have been
your companions for a time, haven't you?"
"Well, yes, of course, but--"
"And you've fed on human children, too."
"Yes... occasionally. When it was necessary. But
Anna--"
"Anna's no different from all the others -- not really.
Graeme: You and I will still be here in two hundred years.
Perhaps together, perhaps not, but we'll be walking around
and breathing. Where will Anna be?"
Anna would be thin dust in some forgotten grave in two
centuries and I was foolish to forget that. And, in that
light, would it be fair to Anna-- or us -- to allow her to
stay indefinitely? Maya and I were essentially unchangeable
in appearance and personality. Anna was not. And that was
that.
"Your point is taken, Maya." I sighed heavily and
squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. "I'm not sure just
yet what we should do now, but I promise you I'll think
about it." And I climbed out of bed, feeling every one of
my many years.
Our comfortable existence continued as it had... with
the exception of much addition physical contact among the
three of us. Anna enjoyed having her own bed in her own
room and she seldom went to sleep with us, but Maya and I --
who never slept apart, now -- often awoke to find her
snuggled between us. She also occasionally joined me in the
shower, or Maya in the bath.
Even when I desired her, though, I never initiated sex
with Anna, not wanting her to feel she was under pressure to
please her benefactor. But she seemed to have a sixth sense
about that. When I daydreamed about her, I would find her
climbing into my lap or draping her arms around my neck from
behind. She had a way of regarding me coyly through
half-lowered lashes, the measuring look of a woman ten years
older, that could (literally) get a rise out of me almost
any time.
Maya was not so reluctant. When the girl's languid
form was arranged bonelessly across the couch, Maya would
sit beside her and casually begin stroking and petting her,
and within minutes they would embrace and kiss and Anna
would ardently return her caresses. I simply could not
unbend that far, not even in my own penthouse, and I wasn't
sure why. Just another difference between "young" Maya and
I.
I was relaxing in the study late one evening, reading
Goethe, with my feet stretched out on an ottoman, when Anna
wandered in. She glanced around and came over to lean her
arms on the back of my easy chair. I was aware of her
peering closely over my shoulder, but the book was in German
and she sighed and began teasing the short hairs on the back
of my neck. So much for Goethe. I turned the book over on
my lap, leaned back, and closed my eyes. The girl's fingers
shifted to the top of my head and then to my temples, slowly
and sensually mussing up my hair. I felt her fingertips
moving lightly over my lips and I kissed them, and she
stroked my cheek affectionately.
Then there was a pause during which her hands
disappeared and there was the soft rustle of clothing; I
kept my eyes closed and let my muscles relax. Then the
chair arm shifted as little Anna, naked and silent, lifted
herself over it and slid slowly into my lap, knocking Goethe
unceremoniously to the floor. Her soft, warm hand touched
my lips again and her breath warmed the base of my throat.
I laid my cheek against the part in her hair and hugged her
close to me. She drew up her knees in order to snuggle
better.
I opened my eyes to find her examining my face with a
soft smile. "You're both so good to me, so sweet, you and
Maya," she said softly. "I want to stay with you forever.
Can you go to a judge and make it so I can be *your*
daughter? I don't think it would take very much money to
get a judge to do that, would it? Then I could really
belong here."
She looked so earnest. So hopeful. I thought again
about what Maya had said and wondered that she could have
predicted this child's thoughts so accurately. And I hugged
her tighter.
I let my hand wander up the outside of her brown thigh
and over the point of her hip. She sighed and spread her
legs, taking my hand in hers and urging it into her crotch.
I moved my palm across her pubic arch, dipping my thumb into
the increasing moisture of her cunt as it slid past, ending
with the first joint of my middle finger encircled by the
pulsing, muscular rim of her rectum and my thumb buried deep
within her. She caught her breath jerkily and clutched my
shirtfront in her small fist. And she kept staring deep
into my eyes as her pupils expanded.
Before I could see her, I became aware that lovely Maya
had slipped into the study as well and was standing to one
side, observing. Then she slowly slipped out of her own
clothing and glided around in front of me, kneeling beside
the ottoman. She cupped both hands around Anna's waist and
the girl jumped a little in startlement. Then Maya began
leaving a trail of wet kisses across her slender neck; Anna
hunched her shoulders with pleasure and let her own eyelids
droop, though she continued to twitch each time I moved my
buried fingers.
I was looking down at the child's profile from above,
wondering how anyone's eyelashes could be so long and
thick... so I never saw it coming.
When Anna stiffened in my arms, I thought she was
reacting again to my hand-play. Then I felt the numbness
spreading through her mind. I refocused abruptly and saw
Maya's open mouth spread wide across the base of Anna's
throat, where the big artery throbbed.
"Maya! No...." I moaned, even as I realized the
futility of it.
Maya raised her eyes and gave me a very steady and
unblinking stare as her drinking-teeth worked in deeper.
The woman's mind already had overpowered that of the girl.
Anna's eyes remained half-closed. The only movement she
made was involuntary: the lengthening and hardening of her
small, dark nipples.
I'm not an unfeeling man, and perhaps that was the
problem. Maya had taken the action I couldn't bring myself
to perform. But I was also a practical man. One must be
practical to survive comfortably for so long. And as I
watched regretfully as Maya pumped the lifegiving blood from
Anna to herself, my own second incisors slid out from their
hidden sheaths.
My redhaired lady was compassionate; it was quite easy
to maintain a host for months, if necessary, by feeding only
a little at a time and leaving the corpus unconscious and
immobilized, but alive, between visits. But Maya was
pumping blood from the girl rapidly, consuming far more than
she actually could metabolize quickly, so that Anna would
not suffer a lengthy quasi-existence before expiring.
I glanced to one side and raised my head. Maya got the
message and quietly backed off to allow me to arise with
Anna in my arms. I carried her down the hall to her own bed
and laid her out on it. Then I stripped off my slacks and
shirt and discarded my slippers while Maya waited patiently.
I bent over the insensate child, spreading her thighs and
bending her knees out of the way, and then lowering my mouth
to her engorged pussy. My needlelike teeth slid into the
delicate flesh and I began to suck the transported blood
from her small body.
Maya resumed her feeding then, still silent in
deference to the homage I was paying our little lover. We
both took our fill and more, until a pallor was visible even
under that lovely, sandalwood skin. Her body was small and
it didn't take long.
Afterward, the two of us retired to our own bed, where
I lay, satiated, while Maya sobbed quietly on my chest. She
made no apologies, nor were they necessary. I stroked her
and comforted her in our loss, but I knew what she had
initiated was unavoidable -- as she had told me it would be.
In the early hours of the morning, we both rose and
dressed, and went back to the bedroom that had been Maya's,
and then Anna's, and now was untenanted again. The girl
seemed asleep, except for the stillness of her lungs. I
thought I could make out a slight smile on her lips, but it
may only have been her natural expression in repose.
Maya had brought a blanket from the storage closet and
now we spread it on the bed and rolled Anna onto it. Maya
looked to me and raised her eyebrows; I looked away, giving
her permission to continue with what was necessary. She
crouched over the small body, her second incisors
re-entering the same punctures. I imagined the reverse flow
as the decomposition-aiding enzyme flowed into the girl's
vascular system.
After a few minutes, Maya straightened again and
carefully, gently, folded the blanket over the body. Then
she came into my arms and I held her closely as we waited.
Finally, we gathered up the now-smaller bundle and left the
apartment. I didn't often drive in the city, preferring
cabs and pedestrianism, but I kept a car in the building's
locked garage, and we went downstairs to it now and left.
It wasn't far to the beach where I'd first met Anna,
the beach from which we had rescued her that night. As I
parked off the road, I projected a signal of raw, blinding
terror toward the beach and for several hundred yards in
both directions through the bordering trees and undergrowth.
As we got out of the car, I dimly heard a few bodies
crashing desperately away. There was very little traffic
and the two figures who sprinted out onto the dark surface
nearby were in no real danger as they fled across the
parkway and blundered into some shrubbery.
Then I picked up the blanket and Maya and I walked down
to the surf. She was sensitive to my sadness -- I'm certain
she shared it -- and she stopped well back from the water's
edge. I stepped out of my sandals and waded out into the
foamy, receding tide. When I was thigh-deep, I flipped the
blanket open and let it settle on the dark water's surface.
A few remaining scraps of flesh and bone floated away on the
next outsurge and the blanket itself settled gradually until
the lower current pulled it away from where I stood.
This was where little Anna had been happiest before she
met me, dancing lightly in the waves, and this was where I
had to return her few remains, allowing the waves to win the
game at last.
I watched for some minutes longer, even after there was
nothing more to see. Then I turned and strode back to where
Maya waited. I stood looking down at her, unwilling to have
to think, and she somberly reached up and touched the
corners of my eyes. They might have been tears... but I
doubt it.
I took a deep breath and slipped my arm around Maya's
shoulders as we began the trek back to the car. "My dear,
what would you think of returning to France in a few days?"
She smiled warmly up at me. "I have quite a lovely, though
small, villa in Monte Carlo...."
END
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright 1994 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and posted
elsewhere for personal enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.
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