Girls Who Bite

by Delilah Devlin

  “Please, Eleni, Please fuck me. Please make me come. I want you inside me. Please make the pain stop.”

  Unable to resist any longer, Eleni quickly took the rest of Jayne’s clothing off, and then felt her own desire treble at the sight of Jayne’s naked body glowing in the firelight. She watched as Maria knelt down next to Jayne and took a nipple in her mouth. Jayne’s body arched and one hand tangled in Maria’s hair while the other fisted in the rug. Eleni knelt on the other side and took the other nipple in her mouth, groaning when Jayne’s hand tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, forcing her mouth down harder.

  She slid her hand over Jayne’s stomach, and lacing her fingers through Maria’s, together they slid their fingers over Jayne’s drenched pussy. Jayne was held down only by their mouths continuing to suck and bite at her breasts.

  Eleni lead the way, pushing their entwined forefingers inside Jayne, where they set a rocking rhythm that made Jayne orgasm over and over again, her moans and pleas for more echoing through the room. They pressed a second set of fingers inside her and for a moment she was quiet as the pressure filled her.

  Maria pushed hard, driving their fingers inside Jayne and moaning along with her as the orgasm ripped through her body, starting low inside her and spinning throughout her soul.

  “Now.”

  Eleni moaned before sinking her teeth into Jayne’s breast, drinking blood infused with the aphrodisiac of orgasm, and felt her own orgasm start as she watched Maria do the same thing to Jayne’s other breast. They both pulled away at the same time as Jayne’s orgasm started to fade and their own orgasms subsided.

  Licking her lips and removing the small spatter of Jayne’s blood, Maria said, “I’m not done. I want to make use of that beautiful mouth. And I want to watch you fuck her. Make her come. I want to feel her screaming inside me.” She straddled Jayne’s face, spreading herself open over her mouth and grinding down when Jayne’s tongue slid inside her. “Fuck her, Eleni. Now.”

  Watching as Jayne eagerly licked the vampire’s wet center, Eleni moved between Jayne’s legs and licked her clit, sucking at it, biting it and then driving her tongue inside her in the same way she was driving her tongue into Maria. Adding three fingers she pushed hard inside Jayne, marveling that the feeling was better than anything she had imagined over the last two years. She was hot, tight, so wet, so deep.

  Maria ground down faster and harder on Jayne’s mouth, and suddenly she was coming, a deep howl flowing from her as she let go.

  Letting go as well, Eleni growled and twisted her fingers inside Jayne, pressing hard against her G-spot and sinking her teeth lightly into Jayne’s clit as she orgasmed.

  Jayne screamed against the pussy on her mouth, the pleasure nearly ripping her in half, the body over her pumping in the same rhythm as the hand pumping inside her.

  The body over her moved away, and as suddenly as it had hit her, the painful hunger that devoured her was gone, leaving her body aching, sated and sore. She gently placed her hand on Eleni’s head, where it was resting against her thigh.

  Maria lounged back on her elbows. “That was exactly as good as I thought it would be. If you wanted to stay, you would both be welcome in my home. I think we could have a lovely time of it.”

  “Thanks, but no. It’s time for us to move on. And the sun will be up soon. Perhaps it’s time for you to go?” Eleni said pointedly.

  “Ah, well. I tried. If you come back to Cartagena, do find me. I haven’t had this kind of fun in quite some time.” She laughed, and straightening her dress, left the room. The last Jayne saw of her, she had stepped off the deck of the yacht and was walking across the water toward shore.

  “Are you okay, love?” Eleni moved to lie next to her, gently caressing her stomach.

  “More than okay. That was intense, although I have to say I don’t ever want to feel that kind of pain again. I can get horny all on my own, thanks. But the way you touched me…god, Eleni. That was amazing. How was the take tonight?”

  Eleni laughed, her crystal-blue eyes lighting up. “Yes, you can get horny on your own. You’ve been on edge for ages now. Why didn’t you come to me? Why go for that silly little human tonight when it’s me you want? My touch you need? And the take was truly plentiful tonight. Why?”

  “Arrogant, much?” Jayne grinned and moaned when Eleni tweaked her nipple in response. “You told me when you hired me that no one on this boat would touch me, that I was off limits. I figured that meant approaching you was out of the question.”

  “No, love. I said no one would touch you against your will, or force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. I wasn’t dictating your actions—I was dictating theirs.”

  “You mean I could have gotten laid at any time on this goddamned trip?”

  “Yes. But only by me, since the rest of the crew know that I have claimed you. And it’s what you want, isn’t it? To belong to me, and only me? To have me make love to you whenever you want me?”

  “Yes,” Jayne whispered as Eleni’s hand stroked her slowly. “But that means no more women in your bed, except to feed. Unless I’m invited too. And I asked about the take because I don’t want to go to port for a few days. I want you all to myself.”

  Eleni laughed again, delighted. Jayne was hers, her human companion, and one she would never let go, no matter what port they sailed to, no matter what desires she needed filled. Bending close to Jayne’s ear, she slid a finger deep inside her and whispered, “You, and only you, love. That’s all I need, forever.”

  IMPUNDULU

  Regina Jamison

  It was summer. I remember because I’d had the top down on the car. It was night and very dark in the woods. I wasn’t driving. I’d sat in the car with the stars laid out above me. The vastness of the dark sky along with the twinkling abundance soothed me. I’d felt connected, somehow, to that deep void filled with gaseous matter that encircled planets creating fictitious halos and black holes that captured and sucked in one’s soul. I felt as if my soul were an asteroid; floating, drifting in the darkness, searching for some force to bring it into the light. I wanted a celestial hand to caress me while spreading moon dust like salve upon my heart.

  These were my thoughts when a bolt of lightning blazed in the field to the right of me. There was no sound, only a light so bright the air continued to glow after it had dissipated. I left my car and walked toward it. Before me there was what appeared to be millions of fireflies swarming a wide swath of land. Or maybe it was pieces of burnt paper that resembled butterflies fluttering about on the wind: one half blackened and cold like a dead star, the other half a bright, warm, beautiful ember. I stood there watching and grew warmer. Sweat bubbled up on my brow. The tips of my hair glowed and rushed about my face. There was so much movement and heat. The fireflies swirled and swirled then settled, forming an oval shape like a flame above a wick.

  The egg-like shape sparkled and popped with anger. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I glanced at the space around me and when I looked back the egg was still there. I walked its circumference wanting to touch it. I felt as if something were calling me, wanting me to burn in its iridescence. But I shoved my hands into my pants pockets and stepped back, then back again. I found the safety of darkness. My knees trembled. My legs shook as the ground gave way around me. I bent over slightly for balance but my legs collapsed, pitching me forward into the high grass. The rumbling continued as the ground shook and buckled around me.

  With dirt on my chin, I stood. I looked up, whipped around and looked behind me. Nothing! No light. No fireflies. No glowing egg. I walked to where the egg had been and found a great hole. A path of crumbled dirt, like something had burrowed underground, stretched out from it and made its way toward the lake. I could have followed, but I ran back to my car, turned the key, and jettisoned myself into that black hole called night.

  I couldn’t sleep so I paced. I grew tired so I sat. I became weary of sitting, so I painted. Large, looming eggs filled the canvases like disembodied p
upils probing; fiery eyes whose centers burned. I had to get it down. I closed my eyes and it was before me again—the egg from the field. It shimmered and pulsated to a beat whose rhythm spoke my name—Li-lith, Li-lith. I heard it moan in a deep and terrible bass that rattled my bones.

  Quickly, I opened my eyes. This means something, I thought. I didn’t know what, but I had to get it down. The egg was more than an egg; it was a life. I had felt it, could still feel it burrowing inside of me. I had to get it down, get it right. I could feel it growing; it wanted something. More paint. I needed more paint!

  I created picture after picture and with each I felt as if I were nourishing a life. Each stroke was a placental strand connecting me to it. My hands shook; my vision blurred; I was tired but I couldn’t stop. A hand, perhaps a foot was being formed within a shell. Now a leg. Now an arm. Its eyes opened, then its mouth. Again, it moaned my name and my throat filled with metallic bile.

  The urge to create had passed. I’d given it life; my job was complete. My brush dropped to the floor. I took a canvas from the stand and cradled it. Something that loved me was born.

  Once again the waters are upon me. My shell softens, collapses, then shrivels up like sugar in a warm glass. She has summoned me again—not with incantations and spells this time, but with her mind; dreaming me into existence so I can be with her. The colors she uses, they guide me. Each stroke is matched to the beat of her heart; the sound of a drum from long ago. Each stroke forms the path.

  I am growing rapidly; shedding the membrane that once encased me. I begin to feel warm as the down of my feathers envelops me like the blanket that it is. My claws harden and grow sharp, quickly securing me further upon this tree from which I hang.

  Finally, I open my eyes to the night. I can see crickets and cicadas running through the grass below me. I hear a faint rustle and spot a bird rushing late to his nest. I can smell the fish that swim in the lake from which I was born. I spread my wings, casting great shadows that darken the ground further. All becomes quiet for they know; they can feel my great strength.

  I am Impundulu; the one who remembers. I open my mouth and a sound like no other is set forth. Maybe she will hear it and this time she will recognize her name. But perhaps she has, again, taken another as her lover.

  Many days have passed since I first saw the egg, and as the week closes, I begin to wonder if I ever saw such a thing at all. Perhaps my longing for a difference in my life and a desire for change had overpowered me. Perhaps it was only a dream. Ingrid says dreams can creep into our reality, making our hearts race and our legs part. This I know, but still, what I felt was different.

  “You seem bored, perhaps a glass of wine to begin your fantasy?”

  I turned toward the voice and it turned into a vision of beauty. Lips full, as if pouting, filled a small yet strong angular face. Her brow ran straight across her almond-shaped eyes like a cliff above raging pools. Her hair had been shorn from her head leaving only a smooth reminder of it in its place. And while her eyes blazed like lightning, her skin gleamed as if polished and darkened to the deepest depths of blackness, and then smoothed and smoothed again until it was like the finest silky velvet clinging to the sharp bones of her face. She held a tall glass in her hand and her eyes to mine.

  I had no choice but to accept.

  “Thank you.” I looked around to see if Ingrid, my friend and host of the party, was anywhere about. I saw her across the room leaning into the arms of a woman I did not know. The woman whispered in Ingrid’s ear and she laughed.

  “What else may I do for you?”

  I smiled at Ingrid’s joy and at this woman’s insistence. “You’ve done too much already.”

  “Nonsense, my servitude has only begun. I am called Impundulu.” She bowed deeply at the waist then stood straight. She was very tall and lean.

  “Impundulu?”

  “That is correct.”

  “It’s an odd name, no?”

  “Quite, here in the states, but back home it is widely known.”

  “And home is?”

  “South Africa. Have you been?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “A pity, but the future is wide and full.”

  She smiled, and the fire in her eyes grew larger, forming tiny golden egg shapes like the giant one I had seen. I was captured by their glow.

  “They call you?”

  “Lilith.” I put out my hand for her to shake. She turned it and placed a small kiss on the pulse of my wrist leaving her imprint behind.

  I touched this brand upon my skin, traced the mark of those lips, and it felt hot. My wrist burned, but with a contained heat that knew its goal. It spread out from my hand to the fingers that caressed it, then made its way up to my heart. I was momentarily frightened when a new feeling overtook me—desire.

  “It is a pleasure…Lilith.” And I saw the same passion that had seized me take shape in her eyes, then dance about her face like so many little fires burning.

  When she said my name it was…it was as if I couldn’t breathe from being thrown into too much oxygen. There was abundance with deprivation crowding its corners. I couldn’t speak.

  “Tell me, Lilith, have you ever swum in the sea at night?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Have you ever plunged through a cloud while it wept?”

  My gaze had been on her face but now I really looked at her. Who was this woman? And what was she doing to me? “You play with me with your silly questions. Surely, no one has done the latter.”

  “Oh, but someone has.”

  “And I suppose that someone is you?”

  She smiled and reached for me. “Come, we are at a party and yet only occupy a corner. What will the host think? We should dance.” She linked her arm around mine as we turned toward the main room. Her long cape arched and swooshed just as the music began.

  It was a Brazilian piece with deep sobbing drums that pounded my heart into submission. I had never before been enamored by a woman, but she was more than a woman. Impundulu was an entity, a force. I don’t know how I knew this, but I did. I was so thoroughly mesmerized I fell into her arms and she held me. Her cape swaddled me, softening the blows from the rhythm.

  She held me around my waist as we seemingly floated around the room. Her chin rested near my ear, and the dampness of her neck amplified her scent. It was a smell I knew. A familiar yet disturbing scent that begged me to remember something more but I could not. A warm, metallic scent rose up like a wall before me then it spilled into my throat, and I recalled this same taste from the day I painted the egg with fury. Suddenly, I felt great hunger and great pain. I gulped it down, all of it.

  “You move with such ease,” I said.

  “It is you who moves me.” She spun me around, then plunged me toward the ground into a terrifying dip. I held on tight, clasping her hands as if they were a ledge and my salvation. But it was her eyes that saved me. They showed no fear, only promise and hope as she gazed down at me. It was this that I held on to.

  Like a whip I was snapped back up into her arms. She held me close, her lips next to mine—mocking me. Do I dare? Would she? She leaned in closer. I turned my head, pretending to glance about the room. From the corner of my eye I saw her smile.

  She pressed deeper into me. I felt her body aligned with mine and with great speed and dexterity she parted my legs with one of her own, lifted me, and rubbed me across the span of her thigh.

  A great heat began to build there that was so innate and self-directed I found my hips tracing that same path up and down, over and over on their own. When I realized what was happening, I lost control over myself once again. But by then my face was as hot as the rest of me. I turned my head the other way so Impundulu could not see my wantonness.

  She threw her head back and laughed as she lowered me down then twirled me away. “To dance with you is divine; exactly what I had imagined, but now we should take our leave. Tell me that you will accompany me.”

&nbs
p; “I’m not sure that I should. I…I don’t really know you.” I was still embarrassed by my former actions.

  “You know me, Lilith.”

  “I…I feel as if I do, but…”

  “You know me, Lilith.” She said this firmly, with much conviction and a hint of impatience.

  Before I could protest her lips were on mine, then our tongues did meet. I tried to pull away but she held me in a deep embrace, and the world around us began to spin. We twirled and twirled smashing through centuries. The outside world was a blur until finally it simply fell away. We had spun into another time, another world, a different party.

  I looked around me. Nothing was as it once was; the people were different, their clothing and hair different. The women were draped in gowns that pushed their breasts out on top and cinched their waists tightly. And their behinds seemed to billow out like those tremendous growths one sees upon a tree.

  “What…what have you done? Where am I?”

  “We are where we were.”

  “Impossible! Look at this place, this room, the music, the people. Oh, my god, where’s Ingrid? We were at her party.”

  “Do not fear, Lilith. We are where we were. We have only traveled back to a time where once you knew me; where, once, I was foremost in your mind. Do you remember, Lilith? Look around and try to remember.”

  I looked about the place. Chandeliers filled with candles hung low from the ceiling. On the tables, placed here and there, were candelabras. A small orchestra of violins, flutes and harps played on a small stage by a window, and the floor was filled with women—women dancing arm in arm and cheek to cheek to the music. There were women huddled in corners kissing the soft flesh of others that spilled out from the tops of low-cut dresses. Some women wore hats, pants and topcoats. They walked with the hard stride of a man but the softness of their faces marked them as women. There was a lady who looked like Ingrid, and she too was leaning into the arms of another woman while smiling.