The Vorare Virus

by Selena Spry

  Slowly, gradually, he drove himself in as deep as he could, using Aileen’s hips as leverage to pull in as far as possible.

  “Mmmmmm…” she let loose with a little high-pitched squeal that made him smile and told him there was little room for more than he was giving her.

  While Jaren’s upper body drove Aileen nuts, and his almost bodybuilder physique worked wonders to get her hot, it wasn’t necessarily Jaren’s physical characteristics that turned her on the most. In fact, it was the authority he held as a hotel security sergeant that got her wet so much faster. She loved the power he wielded, the manliness of the position, only if within the confines of the hotel. He had a master key that allowed him access to anywhere in the massive structure. During the day, he typically commanded a staff of ten or more. He could throw guests or trespassers out of the hotel or revoke their access to areas within the property. And he could obtain suites for them and their friends when the hotel was otherwise sold out during special events like the Fourth of July or New Years.

  Halfway through their romp, Jaren’s radio – still clipped to the side of his uniform pants now lying at his feet – squawked. “Jaren…come in. This is dispatch,” a voice echoed through the radio.

  “Shit!” Jaren hissed, pausing in his thrusts, momentarily unsure as how to proceed.

  Aileen’s shoulders slumped at the distraction. “Ugh…” she sighed. “Never fails.” She rolled over onto her back, extracting Jaren from inside her.

  “Sorry, babe,” he apologized dejectedly. “Duty calls,” he bent and detached his radio. “This is Jaren…go ahead,” he spoke as though he was in the middle of a coffee break.

  “Jaren, we’ve got an…incident in the lobby. Could you come down?”

  “Be right there,” Jaren said, already in the process of stepping back into his uniform pants. As he pulled the pants up around his waist, he noticed the wet mouth imprints still visible around the crotch. “Fuck!” he grimaced. “What am I going to do about this?” he frowned at Aileen.

  “Give them to me,” she rolled off the bed, still naked except for her shoes.

  30 seconds in front of the bathroom hair dryer had Jaren back in his pants and on his way downstairs.

  Aileen dressed slowly, dejectedly behind him.

  Chapter 6

  It was the end to another long week. Jen was stuck in traffic on the Eisenhower Expressway, which in itself was nothing out of the ordinary. The reason for the five lanes of slow-moving traffic snaking along in front of her, however, was.

  Apparently, according to the radio report she was listening to, some nut had been running around on the highway throwing stuff at vehicles and at times even throwing himself haphazardly onto the slower moving ones. Finally, the man had gained access to two vehicles, pulling the occupants from within and injuring several of them severely.

  Jen was stuck in the center lane, wedged between a mass of vehicles that had ground to a halt. She could see flashing red and blue lights ahead of her.

  She glanced at her watch. “Ten after six,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head disgustedly. She thought of Zach who was probably already home waiting for her. “Never fails. The one time I get off early, and this happens.

  * * *

  Zach sat staring out the window of a currently stationary westbound commuter train. Outside on the tracks, police and paramedics were working to collect the splattered remnants of an apparent suicide.

  Zach looked at his watch. “Ten after six,” he said softly to himself, shaking his head. “The one night Jen’s supposed to get off early, and this happens.”

  Suicides weren’t exactly an uncommon occurrence on the commuter rail lines around Chicago, but they never seemed to come at a convenient time.

  If people were going to off themselves, couldn’t they at least wait for a late-night freight train? Why’d they have to do it at rush hour?

  Zach was pondering these thoughts when he heard an odd noise behind him.

  Odd noises on the train weren’t exactly unusual either. People did all sorts of weird stuff that Zach would prefer not to hear and that he did his best to ignore. But this sound was different – it was a loud, sucking, crunching sort of noise that made Zach’s skin crawl.

  He took a quick glance back over his shoulder. At that exact same moment, a piercing scream from another passenger behind him almost caused him to drop the newspaper he was holding. He swiveled in his seat to see a man and a woman struggling in the seat a row back. The man’s head was turned to the side, and he had his face buried near the woman’s neck. They were entwined in embrace…at least that’s what Zach thought at first. But as his neck, face, and chest were splashed with a warm substance that he realized almost instantly was blood, he knew that this was no sort of embrace. The woman’s eyes had rolled into the back of her head and blood was steaming down from around where the man’s face was attached to her like a leach.

  Zach half stood from his seat, terrified, unsure of whether to call on his cell phone for help or attempt to pull the crazed man from the woman. Any number of thoughts tore through his mind – injury to himself, further injury to the woman, lawsuits against him if he ended up doing more harm than good to one of these people – but he decided he should act. Seeing the woman and the amount of blood coming from her, he had to act.

  At the same time that he made his decision, one of the train’s conductors and several other passengers came to the same conclusion. Between the four of them – and it took all four – they managed to pull the man off the woman. It was as if the guy had some sort of superhuman strength. And all the while, he was trying to bite the others. He got one man on the hand and another on the ankle while they were holding him down, and he got Zach in the right forearm. Thankfully, Zach’s shirtsleeve stopped the guy’s teeth from breaking the skin. Still, it left a nasty bruise.

  The woman who had been attacked didn’t come out the other side of the incident quite so lucky. The attacker had pierced an artery, and she had bled to death as the men tried to help her.

  The rest of Zach’s evening was spent being questioned by police regarding the incident and his involvement in it. With the corroboration of witnesses and the others involved, and without serious injury to himself, he’d finally been allowed to board another train and continue his commute home.

  He and Jen arrived at their apartment that night at almost the same time – just after 10:30. After calming Jen regarding the blood on his clothing and assuring her that none of it was his, and after a cool shower in which she joined him, they settled down on the sofa for a few minutes of commiserating about their terrible trips home. They watched the late-night news, highlighted by the events in which they’d both been involved. Then they hit the sack, their Friday night – in which all they’d really wanted to do was order a pizza and watch a movie together – ruined.

  Chapter 7

  It was Wendy’s day off. As a restaurant server, she often had irregular and split off days. She didn’t have much planned other than some TV watching, a little light cleaning around the house, and a shower, which she’d just finished.

  As she stood in the bathroom, a towel bound up around her hair and another cinched around her body, she decided she might also paint her toenails Rob’s favorite color – a hot pink. It would be her surprise to him when he returned home from work that evening.

  As she rummaged through the bathroom vanity in search of the nail polish, there was a knock at the front door.

  Wendy frowned and shut the drawer she’d been searching. She walked into the hallway to stand at the top of the stairs, figuring it was probably just the postal person knocking to indicate the delivery of a package. By the time she got downstairs and opened the door, he’d already be gone.

  But the knock came again.

  Wendy re-tightened her towel and made her way downstairs.

  “Brian!” she said as she opened the door, surprised by the unexpected and unusual appearance of their reclusive voyeur neighbor. “Wh
at a pleasant surprise! How have you been?”

  “Okay,” he mumbled, nodding.

  Brian wasn’t a big talker, and Wendy knew it. But that was fine. He had always been pleasant and polite in their previous encounters; then a thought struck Wendy. The stars had finally aligned perfectly for a little idea that had been brewing for some time.

  Brian seemed caught off guard by the appearance of Wendy fresh from the shower. He stood, open-mouthed, ogling her warm, wet, towel-bound form like an adolescent teen stumbling on some fresh internet porn.

  “Would you like to come in?” Wendy stepped aside.

  “Uh…yeah, sure…okay,” Brian mumbled, stepping through the doorway.

  As Wendy closed the door behind him, there seemed to be something weird about the man…even weirder than usual. Brian didn’t seem himself, but he was an oddball sort anyway, so Wendy didn’t give it much thought.

  “Something to drink?” she offered.

  “Huh uh,” Brian shook his head slightly. “I mean, thanks…no,” he caught himself.

  Wendy wasn’t dissuaded. “Please have a seat,” she guided him over to the living room sofa where they sat together.

  “I just got out of the shower,” Wendy explained sweetly. To anyone else, she wouldn’t have made such an obvious remark, but this was Brian. He might think she just walked around in towels all day. “Would you might if I ditched these wet towels and threw on something more comfortable?”

  “No,” Brian shook his head.

  Boy, what a talker, Wendy thought to herself, but continued unfazed.

  “Be right back,” she waved and gave him a little smirk as she stood from the sofa.

  This was her chance, and she had to make the most of it. Her mind was swimming with ideas. But she had to be careful and execute this in the right way. Wendy had been able to get Rob little stories in the past. Flirting with a guy at a bar or club. A co-worker kissing her one time in the restaurant’s walk-in freezer. But they never seemed to be enough for him. He wanted more, but Wendy never wanted to do anything that would get her into trouble. At work, such acts could get her fired. And much of the time when she went out for a good time, it was with friends, family or co-workers who wouldn’t exactly understand her hooking up with someone other than Rob. It’d make her look like a tramp even though Rob wanted her to do it. How could she explain his desires to them? Then they’d think that he was some sort of kinky sex freak.

  Cuckoldry wasn’t exactly Wendy’s thing, but she certainly didn’t mind sex with a good-looking dude in the privacy of her own home. And if it tweaked Rob’s libido, then so much the better. Rob knew he was number one, and he certainly didn’t lack confidence when it came to their relationship.

  Wendy ditched the towels, tossing them on the bedroom floor before bending to shake out her still-damp hair. Then she hurried to the closet and found a skimpy, red-silk robe. The robe ended well above the knee and it did little to conceal her ample breasts that threatened to explode from behind the thin fabric with the slightest bend, twist or turn. The red material blended well with her dark complexion. As she tightened the robe around her, she rapidly finalized the remainder of her plan.

  Moving over to Rob’s dresser, she fumbled in one of the drawers for a long moment before finding what she was looking for. She pulled from within a handheld video camera. She flipped it on and found that there was 42 minutes of battery life remaining.

  “Should be enough,” she whispered aloud to herself.

  Then she flipped open the viewfinder screen and positioned the camera atop the dresser, making sure that it was focused on the entirety of their king-size bed. Finally, she hit the “Play” button, flipped the viewfinder closed, and moved a wooden jewelry box and a small faux-potted plant in front of the camera, concealing it so that only the lens was exposed.

  Finished with her work, she hurried back to where Brian still sat waiting on the sofa. He looked pale, tired, almost sickly. Beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead.

  Poor guy, Wendy thought. Not used to being alone with a woman.

  She plopped casually back down on the sofa opposite Brian near where he sat. She swiveled, pulling her feet up under her so that she could face him.

  “So…” she said perkily, shoulders back so that her already sizeable breasts were shoved even farther out toward Brian, almost like the maiden figurehead of an 18th century sailing vessel, “…to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?”

  Suddenly Wendy was excited about the scenario unfolding before her. Maybe Rob was right with what she had formerly considered his slightly weird whims. This could be fun. And she decided to do her best to enjoy the act as much as Rob would enjoy not just hearing about it, but being able to see it on film!

  “Well…” Brian paused uncomfortably, “I need something.”

  “Yes…of course,” Wendy tried her best to sound sexy but wasn’t sure she was succeeding. There was nothing on Brian’s face that showed he’s was picking up on the signals she was sending. In fact, he looked absolutely clueless.

  “It’s advice,” he finally spit out, as though he didn’t like the sound of it. “I haven’t had any luck…met…meet…meeting women,” he stuttered. “I’m twy…trying to decide whedder…whether I should use this dating site I’ve seen on TV. I was wud…wudder…wondering, if you…as a woman…think it’d be a good idea.”

  Poor guy. No wonder he doesn’t talk much, Wendy thought to herself after hearing Brian try to formulate his thoughts aloud.

  “Oh,” Wendy said, someone surprised by the request. She was thinking along the lines of borrowing a stick of butter or a cup of sugar or something. But advice, especially on dating, wasn’t what she was expecting to dole out today.

  But in the request, she saw opportunity. “You poor thing,” she scooted closer on the couch so that one knee pressed against the side of his leg. “You must be so lonely over there in that big house all by yourself,” she put a hand on his knee. “But if I help you with this, will you help me with something,” she eyed him, doing her best to give him an innocent, yet sultry look.

  Brian glanced down at her hand on his knee and then back up at her. “Ahem,” he cleared his throat and then swallowed hard. “Uh, yeah…sh…su…sure,” he nodded slowly.

  Sheesh, what is wrong with this guy?” Wendy wondered. A half-naked women shooting you sure signs, and you look like you’re about to fall asleep.

  It’d been a while since she’d played the game of luring a man with her womanly wiles, but she was remembering quickly…like riding a bike…or riding something else for that matter.

  She stood up, and then bent over in front of him, ensuring that Brian got a nice view of her bare breasts as her robe hung open. She took his hand in hers, his eyes firmly affixed to the free peepshow she was giving him. Then she guided him up off the couch. “It’s upstairs in the bedroom,” she explained as they mounted the stairs.

  She could tell she had him now…the mouse scenting cheese. All she needed to do now was spring the trap.

  She led him up the stairs and into her bedroom…their bedroom, her and Rob’s.

  “I’m so embarrassed to admit,” she said, playing the helpless housewife as she pointed to a bedside lamp, “that I’ve never learned how to change a light bulb.”

  It was an outright lie, and a terrible one at that. Wendy could probably fix more things than Rob could ever dream needed fixing. But how in the hell was Brian supposed to know that?

  “Oh, I can fik…fix that,” Brian perked up, albeit slightly.

  “I have a bulb,” Wendy offered, picking one up off a nearby dresser and handing it to him. “When I was a child, I was shocked badly one time, and I’ve had a fear of messing with things that use electricity ever since.”

  It was another lie, but it seemed to be working.

  She followed Brian over to the lamp.

  Once there, he removed the lampshade and set it on the floor. Wendy was right behind him, almost on top of him, peeri
ng over his shoulder, her hands lightly on the back of his waist. He seemed to sense her inclination, and turned to face her, bulb still in hand.

  He stood still, facing her, their lips almost touching. Her hand went down to where his held the bulb, their eyes meeting. There seemed to be a strange look in Brian’s gaze, an almost otherworldly and intense combination of passion, anger, fear, and lust.

  Their lips brushed together, softly at first, almost imperceptibly, then harder and finally he lunged in and down, kissing her neck with passion. Wendy could detect Brian’s longing for a woman’s touch in his kiss and in his tension-stiffened body. It was as though he didn’t quite know what to do. Maybe he didn’t. She wasn’t sure what his prior experience was with women.

  As he kissed her neck, she took his hands in hers. Tossing the light bulb to the floor, she guided them up to find her firm bosoms. She left them there, outside the robe, hoping that instinct and intuition would tell this poor lost man what to do next.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  His hands slipped beneath the silkiness of her robe to find the equally silky skin of her breasts. He rubbed, tweaked, squeezed, and explored, his fingertips skirting her skin like a blind man reading braille. She could tell by his touch and the heaviness of his breathing that she had landed her catch. There was no going back now.

  The movement of Brian’s hands over and around her breasts had pushed her robe back to her shoulders. With a slight wiggle, she let it drop with a soft whisper to the floor, revealing her taut, shapely, and completely naked body in full.

  But Brian hardly noticed. He had bent to take a hardened nipple in his mouth, licking, lapping, slurping, suckling like a starved baby.

  Wendy’s shoulders arched, her head titling back in ecstasy, half from Brian’s hungry mouth against her ultra-sensitive nipple, and half from delight in the knowledge that she was doing something bad, something forbidden…yet allowed. She was doing it for her man.