Like The Stars (Trick Or Treat)
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Copyright ©2013 Jonathan Wright
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Vampires and voodoo. Denise thought Halloween parties in New Orleans were the best. Especially vampires. Fantasies of being taken consumed her.
Someone had rented an old house in the French Quarter, with creaking floors, peeling paint, lush atmosphere -- and valet parking. Two hundred bucks a head and they had to turn people away.
She went as a succubus. Dramatic brows, flaming red lipstick, and a long black dress cut down to here that fit her like spray paint, the better to show off her gym toned forty-five-year-old body. Nothing under it, either. Hoping for a twenty-something vampire wannabe to take her home and... take her.
Instead, she found Razul.
Tall and lean, dressed in black and silver, looking like a panther in a dog pound, he speared her with his gaze. With his eyes alone he stripped her and caressed her helpless body with casual confidence.
She shivered, her body tingling with anticipation.
"I am a vampire, and I will have you at my leisure," he said.
She would have laughed at his inane imitation of sinister arrogance if she had not been both terrified and aroused. He did something with one hand, a small gesture that she found fascinating... "Come."
She found herself compelled to follow... helpless...
Outside, he tipped the valet with a twenty and she got into an exotic black car.
Later, he parked at an old mansion, out on the bayou. Quiet and secluded.
She got out. Without being told, she undid her zipper and the dress slithered to the dew-damp grass. She stood before him, her quivering nude body his for the taking.
* * *
"Arch your body, sweet girl. Remember, you exist for my pleasure."
Hands clasped behind her head, Denise did as she had been ordered, arching her body off the big four poster bed, thrusting her tits at the ceiling -- not believing for a second that Razul thought of her as sweet. Understanding perfectly that anything -- everything -- she did was for his pleasure.
Because she had no choice.
Favorite fantasy ever. Now in real time.
As if to underline the point, without a trace of sweetness he relentlessly manipulated her clit with one finger, sending irresistible waves of pleasure through her. He leaned over and bit one distended nipple, making her gasp in pain even as he stroked her lean back and tight ass with his free hand. "Superb body, I must say, and mine to use. Yes, mine."
She tossed her head from side to side, moaning... the pleasure... the pleasure... Sunlight and a warm breeze streamed through the open sash window, bringing the scent of bougainvillea and jasmine. She thrust herself higher off the bed. "Please --" She writhed on satin sheets, under a silk canopy. The scent of old pine rose from the floor.
Razul's cock stood out thick and hard. Denise ached to have it in her. "Please -- your cock -- please..."
Razul chuckled. "Not yet. You haven't earned that privilege."
She moaned with helpless frustration, gyrating her body in response to his touch, and her raging hunger. "Give it to me! Please!" Knowing his response and dreading it, but not caring.
"So, you will do as I say, little slut?"
She'd lost track of time since the party. An hour? A day? She had resisted as long as she could. She'd lost count of the number of times he had fucked her. Instead of satisfying her, the hunger became worse, deeper, more compelling. The need to completely submit overwhelmed her.
She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered fiercely, "Yes! Anything! Yes!"