Girl Fun One

by Miranda Forbes

  “Not yet,” Elizabeth pleaded, “I’m not ready.”

  “I’m so wet, so hot!” Colleen couldn’t stop whatever Elizabeth’s wishes. Her body moved by itself, rubbing, pushing, gyrating, fucking. She clenched her bottom cheeks – hard – trying to hold off, trying to back away. It was no use. She wanted to be as close as possible, closer than they already were, to be inside Elizabeth somehow, to share what she felt with her, to know what Elizabeth felt as she pushed deeper. She pumped harder, forcing their burning flesh into angry collision, wanting to merge with her lover, wanting to siphon Elizabeth’s heat. Colleen looked up and the two locked eyes. Elizabeth’s expression had changed, she looked happy and worried at the same time, looked a little worried perhaps, Colleen thought, as if she were frightened of losing control. Elizabeth’s cheeks burned red, her eyes glazed for a moment, then they grew as wide as saucers and her whole body started to tremble. “Oh, fuck …”

  Colleen felt Elizabeth’s body jerk suddenly, just as her own began to spasm. She felt as if a fist had grabbed her between the legs, the softest, most gentle fist imaginable, Neptune’s fingers, grabbing her right there inside, shaking her, turning her inside out. She felt a strong throbbing between her legs like nothing she’d felt before. Colleen couldn’t think, or talk, couldn’t do anything except close her eyes, hold on until the tremors passed; her orgasm so intense it almost hurt when she finally let go.

  Gradually, breath seeped back into her lungs, her heart started to beat once more, though her blood continued to burn. Colleen tingled all over. She didn’t want to move, so she lay quiet, gently stroking Elizabeth’s leg, enjoying her heat, their sex still pressed together. She didn’t know exactly what had happened. She’d felt good before, but never quite like this. Slowly, she raised herself on to her elbows. Elizabeth sat up too. The older woman smiled but her eyes were wet, her flushed cheeks glistening with tears. Colleen wanted nothing more than to hold Elizabeth in her arms, to be held, to be kissed by those soft pink lips. She knew there would be time enough for romance. She had the whole summer, longer …

  Colleen lay back a little, feeling the glorious heat on her skin, listening to the waters gently lap against the hull of the yacht. She felt so alive. She began to caress her breasts with both hands, her fingers tracing circles on her oiled skin, moving inwards to her nipples, pulling them, rolling them between her fingers, releasing, then circling outwards again. After the passion of the last few minutes she enjoyed the teasing sensation. Soon one hand snaked over her stomach, circling, brushing through her short pubic hair, delving between her lips, between Elizabeth’s lips. For a long moment she teased herself, teased Elizabeth. Elizabeth moaned softly, brought her own hand to join Colleen’s. From then on they worked in tandem.

  Soon Elizabeth began to rock gently, panting, making small soft sounds. Colleen moved with her, edging closer, falling into rhythm, her passion rising once more. “Fuck me again,” Elizabeth pleaded. Colleen happily obliged. It seemed she had made a decision. Colleen wasn’t catching the charter flight home, wasn’t going anywhere soon. The Siren called to her and willingly Colleen threw herself onto the rocks.

  Blood And Bliss

  by DMW Carol

  The beat was pounding, thump, thump, thump: a primal call to get on your feet and surrender to the music. The room would have been dark save for a flickering strobe light that illuminated the artwork scrawled on the walls and threw the dancing bodies into sharp relief. Their abandoned movements were intoxicating and eerie in the half-light, almost hypnotic. The club was busy, the music was raw and it was hot.

  I wasn’t sure I’d find what I was after here. Hunting a Goth club was a fun cliché, but it wasn’t stocked with the sad lone waifs you might expect. The club was full of happy laughing crowds of lively people, a constantly moving sea of black lace and make-up. Everyone seemed to know everyone else and there were more squeals of laughter, people demanding hugs and people collapsing in giggles than enigmatic loners wafting tragically around like their one true love had just died of consumption or belladonna poisoning. Still, there was some serious eye candy to be admired and it wouldn’t hurt to watch for a while.

  I walked over to the bar and selected the least objectionable sounding of the red wines. A 2004 Minervois, spicy and with a hint of fruit, definitely palatable although not my usual taste. While the barman was pouring it for me I selected one of the high stools which offered a good view of the dance floor.

  I crossed my legs and settled back to enjoy the view. To be honest, it was good to rest my feet, the boots looked fantastic but heels that high are never comfortable for long and I could feel the ache starting to gnaw. It was worth the discomfort, though, I knew that I looked fantastic. I’d taken special care getting ready and could hold my own against any of the pretty boys and girls in the club. The tight-laced purple silk corset accentuated every curve and cradled my breasts like the hand of a lover. Under that a short, flared, black skirt, with layers of ruffles, laced together over stiffened net petticoats edged with deepest purple, black suspender belt, seamed black fishnet stockings, and a riding jacket of black velvet lined in purple silk. My hair was hidden under a purple wig which swung to below-shoulder length and perfectly complemented the corset. I wore more jewellery than usual – all silver, of course. I’d spent ages perfecting my make-up, my eyes were dark and sultry, and for once I didn’t try to hide my porcelain-white skin; the final touch was a coating of lip gloss, rich, dark and inviting, like a succulent black cherry.

  I sipped my wine and scanned the crowd. You certainly couldn’t fault the view, pretty girls, short skirts, fancy boots, this place had it all in abundance. Some of the men were almost as pretty. The styles ranged from ruffles and lace to rubber and chrome, Victorian gothic to futuristic cyberpunk. It felt strangely welcoming. Even the music was good. I’d give it a while longer before I had to take care of business.

  Then I saw her. She’d only just arrived and was making her way towards the bar scanning the crowds as though hoping to spot a familiar face on her way through the club. She was petite, blonde and with deep blue eyes that reflected the flickering light like pools of clear water. Her skin was almost as pale as my own. She was dressed in a floor-length white dress that glowed in the UV lighting. Her slim waist was cinched with a red velvet waspie and beneath the handkerchief hem I caught the occasional glimpse of black patent-leather high-heeled boots. A thin red ribbon encircled her neck centred with a with a clear quartz point cocooned with a dragon. She looked angelic. She had a kind of frailty about her that made her look vulnerable and incredibly desirable. She signalled to the barman and I smiled when she too ordered the Minervois. Our eyes made contact, there was a spark there, she seemed to instinctively know that I wanted her and she held my gaze for about ten seconds. I raised my glass in salute and saw her pale cheeks colour slightly before she smiled faintly and looked down at her wine.

  I stood up and walked around to where she stood. In my heels I was a good few inches taller than her and she looked up at me and dared a tentative smile.

  “May I join you?” I asked, sitting down next to her. “I’m Serena, I’ve not seen you here before …”

  “I’m Aimee,” she replied, with a tremor to her voice. “Please do join me, I don’t really know anyone here and it would be good to have someone to talk to.”

  I looked at her carefully. Despite her slender figure she had beautiful full breasts that were barely contained by the sweetheart neckline of her dress. Her eyes were even more startling close up and they hardly needed the smoky smudge of kohl that surrounded them. Her lipstick was vivid scarlet and I swear I had never seen anything more kissable in all my years.

  “To darkness and light,” I said clinking our wine glasses together. “Your light and my darkness.”

  She smiled at that. “A perfect contrast,” she agreed with me.

  We drank our wine and I ordered a bottle so we wouldn’t be distracted by needing refills. I asked Aimee about herself. S
he was an artist, not long out of university and struggling to get established. She lived alone and didn’t really socialise that much. She had come to the club tonight because she felt drawn to the Goth scene, inspired by the poetry and romance, and was hoping to make a few friends. I probed deeper, asking if she had boyfriends.

  “No.” She shook her head. “No boyfriends.” She looked evasive and a faint blush bruised her cheeks.

  I smiled. “Girlfriends, then?”

  “Well,” she hesitated, then carried on, “not at the moment, but I’ve had one or two in the past. I just don’t seem to get on well with boyfriends, really.”

  I smiled at her. “I prefer women too. There’s something so soft and inviting about them, you just don’t get that with men.”

  I let the subject drop, but we carried on chatting. The talk flowed comfortably. Maybe it was the wine but something was working magic on Aimee, she became less nervous, more open and when I occasionally brushed against her she smiled at me with a good amount of interest. Her cheeks were colouring to a rosy pink, whether from the wine or from her rising passion, I couldn’t be sure, but I had my hopes.

  When I was as sure as I could be, I placed my hand over hers as it rested in her lap and held it tight.

  I knew I hadn’t read things wrong when she turned towards me, obviously expecting to be kissed. Her lips parted slightly and she leaned towards me, I dipped my lips to hers and savoured that first taste. We held like that for a perfect moment before her lips parted further and I slipped my tongue between them. I was delighted at how willingly she responded. We kissed for a minute or so, I could feel my nipples harden under the satin of my corset and the heat begin to build in my groin.

  She pulled away from me.

  “Oh Serena,” she whispered. “I want you so much.”

  I nodded and smiled at her. “I want you too. We could go to my place. It’s not far and then we could really get to know each other properly.”

  We left the club and were lucky enough to find a cab almost immediately, it wasn’t even a surprise when the driver knocked a couple of quid off the fare – he’d spent more time watching the two of us kissing and cuddling than watching the road. I figured he’d be talking about the two hot Goth chicks who made out in his cab for weeks. We put on a good enough show to fuel a whole host of fantasies but kept the reality just within the bounds of decency. I always perform better when there isn’t an audience to worry about.

  By the time we reached my apartment I could tell that our little show had got Aimee’s pulse racing as well as the taxi driver’s. As for me, well, my mind was running in overdrive choosing exactly what to do next in my mission to bring her to total ecstasy.

  I led her straight to the bedroom. This was no time for subtlety and I could see no reason to miss out on the comforts my opulent chamber could provide. It said everything I needed to hear when she stepped willingly into the room. I’m proud of my bedroom, the décor captures my nature perfectly. It’s a hedonistic palette of rich jewel tones and sumptuous fabrics. I think that the blood-red walls, velvet drapes and four-poster bed are the perfect scene for seduction.

  I pulled Aimee into a tight embrace and kissed her full on the mouth again, I felt her relax into the kiss. My hands roamed across her back, sweeping ever lower as she pressed into me. I ran a fingernail down her spine and felt her shiver. My hands dropped to her waist and continued lower, following the curve of her buttock and grasping it through the fabric of her skirt.

  She responded with a similar caress, only my skirt was shorter and her hands slipped naturally below it. I heard her sigh as she realised I was naked under the short skirt and parted my legs just enough for her to feel the heat from my eager pussy.

  I trailed kisses down her neck as I opened the bodice of her dress, letting her breasts spill out into my hands, they were full and round, perfectly white and crowned with perfect rosy pink nipples and areolae. I kissed each breast in turn, feeling her tremble with pleasure as I began to suckle. She really was delicious and I couldn’t wait to taste all that she had to offer.

  We dropped onto the bed, still dressed. Our limbs entwined as we resumed kissing and caressing. As we rolled together the skirt of Aimee’s dress crept higher and I was soon able to reach below to explore the tender skin exposed above her white lace stocking tops and to begin to explore the soft silk that clung to the cheeks of her bottom.

  I rolled her on to her back, with the dress bunched up around her waist and quickly slipped the white knickers down over her hold-ups. I pulled them clear and let them drop to the floor as I admired the precious treasure they had been hiding. She was exquisite in her nakedness, her smooth pubic mound was so enticing and her pink pussy lips were inviting my kiss.

  I knelt beside her and parted her lips with a fingertip, feeling the warm wetness inside. She moaned louder as my fingertips found her clit, I traced a lazy circle around the perfect bud and felt it swell under my touch. She moaned and I looked up, eager to see her enjoying the pleasure I was giving her. She looked utterly abandoned as she writhed to my touch. Her hands were circling her breasts, her eyes were shut and her mouth parted with a moan as I stepped up the stroking and teasing of her wet pussy. Her knees were raised and her legs parted wide as I began to probe deeper inside her. It was difficult to tear my eyes away from her surrender, but I dipped my head and began to lap at her clit, like a kitten licking cream from a fingertip.

  Slowly I increased the pressure, licking harder, my tongue pressing her swollen bud against my teeth, sucking it into my mouth and even nibbling gently at this tender fruit. Simultaneously my fingers thrust into her wet chasm, in and out, faster and harder with every stroke. She gripped my fingers tightly with her pussy muscles, gasping with the pleasure of my ministrations.

  I knew that she was close to orgasm, her breathing loud and ragged, her back arched as she pushed hard against me, her thrusts matching my own. When she came she cried out, gasping my name over and over again.

  My pussy was throbbing with excitement, my juices flowing and making my thighs wet and sticky. I withdrew my fingers and licked them clean of her juices, savouring their sweetness.

  As I relaxed back on to the bed, it was Aimee’s turn to take control. She knelt between my legs, her mouth on my pussy, her tongue probing inside me, penetrating me and withdrawing then circling around my opening and darting back inside. She had one hand holding my lips open while the fingers of her other hand rolled and pinched my clit.

  As she lapped at my juices her fingers began to drum against my clit. Her tongue danced over my pussy, darting inside with short little thrusts, flicking up to my clit and then back. I was lost in the moment, aware of nothing but the pleasure she was giving me.

  I knew I was going to come, the tension was incredible, I tried to hold on for as long as possible but I was powerless against the bliss. When it hit me I screamed out as waves of sensation erupted inside me and swept me into rapture. She kept up the rhythm, prolonging my orgasm for several seconds of unbearable sweetness as I trembled beneath her, carried out of this world by her mouth and her fingers and the perfection of our union.

  As the waves of orgasm began to subside, I grabbed Aimee’s hair and dragged her head up to my face, kissing her on the mouth so I could taste myself on her lips and tongue. Pulling her on to the bed I thrust my fingers inside her again, knowing that she would come very quickly as I began to kiss and bite her breasts and nipples.

  This time it was almost brutal, I drove her furiously towards orgasm, ramming my fingers deep inside, stretching her open, fucking her, fuelling our passion with a primal need for release. As her pussy gripped my fist I sank my sharp canine teeth deep into her flesh. The pain tipped the balance and I felt the tremors of orgasm rippling through her. I drank and she came. Her blood was sweetened as her body surrendered to my touch. She was even sweeter than I had dared hope. She relaxed into my embrace and I fed deeply from her, holding her against me, prolonging her pleasure beyond anything a
mere mortal could offer her. I drew her very essence into my veins, filling myself with her. I knew she wouldn’t even realise what was happening, her surrender was so willing, so total, all she would know was a moment of total peace. Blood is always better than an orgasm to me, but when it tastes of sex and lust and ecstasy there is nothing better. She was my fountain of life and I shared her pleasure.

  The hunger was all encompassing and I had no inhibitions about surrendering to my greed. Her sweet viscous lifeblood filled my mouth and ran unchecked over my jaw and onto her once white gown. When I was almost sated she became limp in my arms. I withdrew my hand from her pussy and slowed my feeding, savouring the last course of my meal. Her eyes were glazed and she had a look on her face that was almost transcendent. I had never seen anything more beautiful.

  Her pulse was fading and I knew that I had to choose. I could simply drain her or I could make her immortal, my daughter in blood. As soon as the thought crossed my mind I knew that she was far too special to waste and I had to save her.

  I sank my fangs into my own wrist, then held it above her mouth as the blood began to ooze from the wound. The blood dripped onto her lip and instinctively she licked it away. I felt her quicken in my arms as her body responded and her tongue snaked across her lips searching for more. Soon her mouth fastened onto my wrist and she fed from me. Again her eyes closed as though in bliss and she sucked as though in a dream, languid and peaceful as I cradled her against me.

  I’d have to hunt again after she’d fed. I didn’t have the energy for both of us, but it wouldn’t be like this. It would just be a meal. Maybe one of the homeless who’d willingly give their blood in return for a decent meal. Aimee would need to sleep after her embrace and I’d have an hour or two before the sun came up.

  I’d be back before she awakened, and then we would hunt together, sharing endless nights of blood and bliss.