In the Forests of the Night

by Vanessa de Sade

  But, everyone agreed, if he’d actually gone so far as to put his name on the register with Eleanor with no pre-nup, that meant that Lionel was obviously rating her, so the downtown crowd rated her too.

  Kirby wasn’t so easily convinced, though, and stayed wary of her at first, like he did with most of his guardian’s girls, but Eleanor seemed harmless enough. Not all clingy and desperate to impress, but quite happy to talk amiably if he needed company. She was a large, curvy woman with thick black hair and very white skin which never seemed to tan, even though she spent a lot of her day swimming in the pool, her fulsome white body running with crystal droplets as she emerged from the blue water, her big nipples obvious under her bikini’s clingy top.

  Unlike most of Lionel’s previous women, though, she didn’t seem to care about money or shopping and never, ever, ventured downtown. In fact, most of the time she just liked to sit out by the water listening to her i-Pod, just wearing her swimsuit with a full-length muslin kaftan over it. But some days, much to Kirby’s delight, she poured her big butt into a pair of old cut down denims with a band t-shirt on top. These tees, she told him, were her most prized possessions and she showed them all to the boy one night up in her dressing room, a collection of every tour shirt for Marilyn Manson, Def Leppard and Guns & Roses, and all laid out in date order too.

  They’d talked quite a bit about music that evening and shared a couple of beers, even exchanged a CD or two, with Eleanor convinced that he’d like some sixties dudes called the Airplane. “My mom sang backing vocals for them back in the day,” Eleanor had urged, and Kirby had taken the disc to be polite, but later, in his room, listening to Grace Slick’s haunting contralto, he had to admit that this new bimbo really knew her music and almost felt guilty for what he was about to do.

  But not enough to stop himself.

  His cock already half-hard in anticipation, he crept out of his room and down the back staircase that led to the old mansion’s underground garage and kitchens, slipping noiselessly through the smooth Art Deco panel door on the half landing; the one that he’d found as an angry ten-year-old kid mourning the loss of his real parents by acting up and kicking at the fixtures in his guardian’s house. He’d gotten a real shock when the heavily crenulated woodwork caved in before him. But, curiosity getting the better of his rage, he’d discovered that the fallen panel was really a carefully concealed door that led to a very narrow passage between the walls of the house, eventually culminating in a small cupboard-sized room with an old chair like Old King Cole’s throne in it and a big glass panel.

  He could see Maria, their old maid, making up his guardian’s bed on the other side of the thick glass, and he’d jumped up and down and waved but she didn’t respond, and, eventually he’d retraced his steps and gone back up into the house proper and into Lionel’s room to find the window that he’d never seen before. Maria was still pottering with a duster when he burst in, and she looked at him strangely as he skidded to a halt in front of the large gold-framed floor-to-ceiling mirror that faced the marital bed of the old house’s master bedroom, realisation suddenly dawning upon him.

  And now, nine years later, the secret chamber behind the mirror was still his deepest secret, the place he tiptoed stealthily to in the small hours, watching Lionel’s big gnarly cock penetrating whichever of the blondes that was in situ that night, their skinny little waxed pussies anxious to please him as they straddled the man from the record label and faked orgasm after orgasm.

  He had never spied on Eleanor before tonight though, like seeing her would be a betrayal of their tenuous friendship or something, but his guardian was away and Kirby had been watching her big white body by the pool all day, following the movement of her heavy boobs as she walked from the water, all wet and glistening in the afternoon light, and he knew that he’d have to see more of her when the sun went down. Couldn’t help himself.

  He put his flashlight out well before he reached the secret room lest it betray him, and felt his way through the pitch black to the chair by memory alone, his by now fully stiff cock drawing him to her like a heat-seeking missile. The bedroom on the other side was only softly lit, the main overhead lights turned down and only the chiffon-covered lamps around the big turreted four-poster bed gleaming their warm peachy tones. There was no-one in the room at first, but the bathroom door swung noiselessly open as he watched, heart thumping, and Eleanor floated in, wet from the shower and wrapped in a big white towelling robe, her long black mane curled up into an elaborate bun.

  Kirby’s already stiff cock took a leap and sprang up even harder, the hot angry head poking up out of the waistband of his PJs and he let it out, pulling his pants down to his knees and gripping his engorged shaft tightly. He normally sat in the old chair, quietly touching himself in the velvet blackness, watching to see how far the bimbos would go to please Lionel. But tonight he stayed on his feet and up by the trick mirror, his big cock only millimetres away from the cold of the glass as he tugged his foreskin roughly up and down.

  Eleanor stood by the bed for a moment, as though listening to his breathing, then turned her back to him and slipped her robe off, her big white body quite naked in the soft light of the bedroom, and Kirby almost came all over the glass at the sight of her. Her thick black hair fell out of the bun and cascaded down her back, stroking the creamy-white skin as it tumbled down her soft round shoulders and settled at her surprisingly narrow waist. She was all curves in her white nakedness, her long legs parted slightly, her big round butt like the July moon, warm and radiant, her whole body fecund and fuckable.

  Kirby’s hand was flying up and down his shaft at the speed of light and his orgasm hit him out of the blue like a storm that blows up over the lake in a matter of seconds, big globules of cum shooting out of him in thick, heavy bursts and smearing down the glass wall that divided him from the object of his desires. He let out a stifled gasp, biting at his free hand to stop himself from howling like a wild animal, and brought his juddering body to a halt, standing very still as Eleanor turned to face him, her head tilted to one side like a deer in the forest who senses a hunter’s presence.

  Kirby stood frozen for what seemed like an eternity, his cock still pulsing and oozing the thick white cum that was all over the glass, watching Eleanor as she looked curiously into the big mirror, and he wondered if she could somehow sense his presence. Even in his terror-struck position, though, he still couldn’t help being bowled over by her full frontal nakedness, and his big cock, not anywhere near soft, had come up like a truncheon all over again.

  Her long black mane fell attractively onto her creamy arms, hands resting provocatively on her large fecund hips. Her huge boobs, that had so entranced him in the pool, hung low and heavy without her top, the big and erect nipples like glossy black cherries topping large milky blancmanges. Kirby just wanted to cum all over again, and, tentatively squeezing his poker-stiff dick, he finally let his eyes run down her body and looked at her pussy, big and proud with its thick unashamed black bush, sitting neatly below her round white abdomen.

  Eleanor had relaxed and sat down on the bed, still facing him, and was rubbing lotion on her hands, her big creamy tits moving slowly like a lazy ebb tide with her rhythm. Kirby couldn’t get over how white she was in a city where everyone was bronzed, and he suddenly remembered the description of Snow White in one of his old children’s books, “hair dark as ebony, skin white as snow,” thinking that it described Eleanor to a T. God, she’s beautiful, he thought wistfully, and without making an effort, too. He sighed and took a long slow pull on his own engorged prick, suddenly finding himself wishing that it was Eleanor’s full lips that were on him, eating him up like a she-wolf, and this surprised him, because he had never ever wished for anything like this before.

  But there was no time for introspection, as Eleanor had moved down to her thighs by now and was oiling them with lotion, parting her legs tantalisingly as she methodically massaged her warm
butter-milk flesh, her pretty pussy now clearly visible as she stroked this way and that. And what a cunt it was, bush like finest mink, soft and warm as cat fur to the touch, a high proud Mound of Venus and big deep slit, dark and secretive but just open enough to reveal the first hints of the fleshy pink lips within.

  Kirby thought that he was going to cum all over again, his whole body shaking with longing as he watched this rotund Snow White behind the glass, and he wanted to bang on it and shout, “I’m here, I love you, fuck me, fuck me, please,” as Eleanor’s oily fingers began to run through the dense enchanted forest of her bush, quickly finding her welcoming pussy and disappearing into the secret recesses of her hot, deep slit.

  “Oh fuck me, fuck me,” he mouthed desperately as he watched. He had seen some of Lionel’s harem masturbate before, of course, usually with vibrators, but these were quick desperate acts, the big plastic shafts humming disinterestedly in their skinny pussies, the bimbos cumming like dieters binging on chocolate, gulping it down without pleasure or sensuality. But with Eleanor it was different. White and homely she might have been, but there was so much love in the way that she explored her own pussy that Kirby felt tears running down his cheeks, feeling every squeeze of her plump pudenda, every caress of her silky bush, and particularly every purposeful stroke of her rock-hard clit that protruded up out of her blossoming sticky cunt like a pink fleshy almond.

  It was about then that a funny thing happened. Eleanor was well into her own self-satisfaction, but she suddenly looked up and met his eyes. Which, of course, she couldn’t do, because he was in the plush and silken darkness of the cupboard, cloaked in the warm raiment of invisibility that the magic mirror afforded. She couldn’t see him, just couldn’t, but yet she met his gaze and held it, her big thick fingers sliding in and out of her deep and slippery slit, circling and squeezing her beautiful big clit.

  “Oh fuck me, princess of the dark forest,” Kirby mouthed in the darkness. “I’m yours, please, please fuck me.” And Eleanor looked right back at him and her lips formed the words, “Yes, yes, yes. Come and fuck me, fuck me now, my little prince, hard, hard and slow, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me….”

  And then she came.

  Chapter Two

  ♦♦♦♦

  The old man sent a message to say that he was staying away for the rest of the week, leaving Kirby and Eleanor alone in the big mansion house together, which made things super-awkward. Kirby was already having to avoid the pool, as every time he saw Eleanor’s big white body in her bikini up he’d pop like a jack-in-a-box, so he locked himself in his room instead, listening to her old CD, playing ‘The White Rabbit’ over and over again, visualising himself lost in the labyrinth of her cunt and just getting hard all over again.

  With a groan he ripped off his t-shirt and boxers and faced himself naked in the wardrobe mirror, his cock sticking out in front of him like a barber’s pole, hot and sticky and ready to go, but no matter how hard he rubbed and yanked at it he just couldn’t cum at all.

  “Oh, what new torture is this?” he hissed, both hands encircling his monstrous erection and pulling up and down on it. “I’m obsessed with this woman and can’t cum till I get her!”

  “That’s about it, yes,” Eleanor’s voice said from behind him.

  He whirled round to face her, then quickly covered himself with his hands — or tried to, at any rate. But his cock was up well beyond huge and his neat guitarist’s hands could only do so much to conceal it, and Eleanor kept looking and seeing plenty.

  “So, I’ve put you under my spell then, have I?” she mused, a faint smile on her face as she gazed interestedly at his big stiff dick like a tourist examining ancient ruins. “I shall have to set you a task to release you, because I’d very much like to tussle with that tasty morsel!”

  “A task?” he asked, incredulous, letting his hands fall to his sides, granting her ring-side tickets to his aching hard-on.

  “Yes, a task,” she replied appraising him. “You saw me through the magic mirror and now you’re bewitched, so you must perform a task to set yourself free. So what can I ask of you that will give me pleasure but will also be beyond the power of your considerable riches, my very beautiful Prince Valiant? Hmm, let me think…”

  She looked up and down his long naked body, sun-kissed gold except for the narrow belt of his swimsuit area that was ivory white with a dark shock of brown hair and tusk-like cock the colour of old bone transmuting into ripe plum at the head.

  “I know,” she suddenly said, a wicked smile spreading across her features. “You spied on me pleasing my pussy in my chamber, so I want to watch you pleasing your cock on that big tacky bed….with another man!”

  Kirby opened his mouth to speak but no sound came. Insanely, he thought, She’s Jane Russell playing the Wicked Witch of the West and I’m in love with her, but Eleanor appeared to hear him.

  “And I love you too, little prince. But I’m powerless to release you until you complete the task. And I’m not such a wicked witch as you think, for I’ll sit in the dark and play with my beautiful cunt while you do it, stroking all the petals like a sticky tropical orchid, wishing all the time that I was fondling your handsome carved-ivory cock, like this…”

  She reached out to him and ran a hand softly through his long brown hair and down the toned slope of his thin, muscular body, culminating at his cock which she gripped between two fingers and squeezed, making him feel that he’d died and gone to heaven.

  “Don’t delay, little prince, do it tonight,” she whispered in honeyed tone, then disappeared as smoothly as she had arrived, her laughter echoing in the dark corridors as she vanished, whistling ‘Some Day My Prince Will Come’.

  Chapter Three

  ♦♦♦♦

  In dreams Kirby could change his shape and become a loping black wolf, his cock always hard and ready, running fiery-eyed through the forests of the night, like a tiger, burning bright, seeking release from whoever he encountered. Sometimes the coarse lips of another man would suck him off, swallowing his salty cum with relish; other times lithe petite women would offer up their asses and let him mount them like the beast he was, their tight little anuses desperately gripping his bestial dick as he rutted them savagely and filled them up with his hot spendings.

  He would wake from these dreams hot and horny and bring himself off quickly and roughly, and had once, deep in lust, fantasised about doing it with his friend, DJ. So it was no surprise that when he needed another dude to break Eleanor’s spell, it was to DJ that he turned in his hour of need.

  The mansion went back to Tinseltown’s heyday and, though the old man had rebuilt the ground floor and turned everything into white fucking terrazzo and neon to show off his rows and rows of gold discs, upstairs it was still all Norma Desmond Art Deco opulence, decayed and untouched. Here the decor was pure Cocteau — in fact, rumour had it Cocteau had visited in the thirties and used the place as inspiration for his wildest sets — and the sagging, arm-shaped wall-lamps were dim and infrequent; the gold-encrusted ceilings low and crumbling; and the long dark corridors that wound like serpentine paths through a dark wood hung with cobwebby portraits of forgotten goddesses like Pola Negri and Anna May Wong, naked or in tiny costumes, their big kohl-black eyes following you as you passed their dilapidated shrines.

  “Man, this place is like something out of a movie,” DJ whistled, looking all around him. “How do you find your way back outta here?”

  By leaving a trail of crumbs, Kirby thought to himself, then said aloud, “Come on, this is Lionel’s room. His porn collection is to die for, man!”

  He led the way into the honeyed bed chamber, lush and sweet with promise like any self-respecting gingerbread house should be, and turned on the Blu-ray player while DJ settled himself on the big divan, helping himself unasked to a drink from the decanter.

  “What is this stuff?” DJ asked. “It’s sweet and kinda potent…”


  “Mead,” Kirby replied with a faint smile. “It’s made by German monks in the Black Forest. Lionel imports it.”

  “Nice,” DJ said, helping himself to another draught of the intoxicating amber liquor as the big screen hummed into life. “Is Lionel cool with us being in here?”

  “Don’t worry, he won’t find out,” Kirby replied, sitting down beside his friend. And I’ll make sure the help changes the sheets in the morning to eradicate all trace of us, he thought to himself.

  “Cool,” DJ said again, suddenly seeing the image that had appeared on the screen. “Holy fucking Jesus, man, you weren’t kidding about this stuff!”

  Kirby cast a sly glance at the mirror and felt his cock shoot up to full length, knowing instinctively that Eleanor was on the other side of the glass, and he surreptitiously moved a little closer to the already slightly-drunk DJ as the on-screen action got hotter.

  Lionel was what might be called a connoisseur of the porn film, and he had a massive collection of hundreds of rare silver-nitrate movies from different eras all neatly racked in their cans safely behind a fire-proof door, their fading images painstakingly restored and preserved on the rows of silver discs that lined his bedroom shelves in faux leather library cases, identified only by a tiny gold-embossed number on their spines.

  The film that Kirby had selected at random was from the nineteen seventies, a garishly-coloured cum-fest shot on the hoof in a dingy apartment in east Hollywood. A small suntanned girl with pleading eyes was taking three cocks simultaneously, mouth, pussy and ass, humping the faceless men like a rodeo rider, cumming with a desperate need as they all gushed into her simultaneously and filled her with their hot white liquid.