by Wynn Wagner
And with that, we were off. Hamlet got above the rain clouds in record time. On my way through the cloud, I felt a tingle. It was a thunderstorm. One lightning bolt actually chased Hamlet.
“Woooo,” he shrieked. I don’t think I ever saw a vampire hightailing it any faster than Hamlet on his way to the clear skies above the rain.
The wind dried our hair, but I’m sure Hamlet was stressing over the possibility of having frizzies. We made it to the queen’s fortress with a minute to spare. Considering that we had fed and I got a mouth full of cum, that was fairly good timing. As we walked to the building, I saw Hamlet checking his hair. He saw something that he didn’t like, but there wasn’t anything to be done.
A MAN who looked like he could have been an accountant or FBI agent met us in the lobby. He asked us to follow him, and he took us to a foyer kind of room that had two lifts (elevators). Instead of pushing the regular lift button, he went to a small numeric keyboard mounted on the wall and typed in a code. I couldn’t see what he typed because the keypad was under a metal shield. As soon as the code was in, he bent down and let a red light scan his eye. The scanner apparently liked the man’s eyeball, because one set of doors opened with a ding.
It looked like a lift door, but it wasn’t. Maybe the other door was a regular lift, but the one that opened was not ordinary. The casual observer in the lobby would see nothing unusual, but that was only for appearances. It would fool any humans who were in the lobby when the fake doors opened. As soon as we stepped into the lift and the doors closed, the roof of the “cabin” opened to reveal a shaft. It was nicely tiled with modern-looking shapes of different colored tiles, not the industrial concrete you would find in most actual shafts.
“Please follow,” he said when the ceiling opened. He flew up the shaft and waited for us about two-thirds of the way up. We floated up to the man’s level.
We were at a regular door, made of metal. To the right of the door was another box of electronics. The man typed a code, and then he put his eye close to the box. It was some kind of biometric security device. You had to know a code, and your retina had to be on the computer’s list of vampires approved for entrance.
I looked up and down the shaft. It seems like every other floor had one of these doors. The other floors had regular doors, but I couldn’t tell if they opened or were just for show. Each lift door was numbered: one, two, three, etc. The metal doors were lettered. Our door was marked “K.”
Very clever. The queen’s fortress was hidden in plain sight. Half the floors were served by the other lift, but half were accessible only if you were a vampire who could float. I have no idea what you’d do if you were one of the vampires who couldn’t float. Maybe you just stayed home or something.
When we stepped into the room, it was full of computer monitors on one side and what looked like a lounge area on the other. On the far wall were heavy-looking doors, each with its own biometric security box. They took security seriously here. Everyone I saw was vampire. I didn’t sense any humans on the floor, and my senses would have known. The room was full of vampires.
Our guide (chaperone? docent?) walked across the floor to one of the large metal doors on the far wall. He typed in his code and let the biometric box look at his retina. A buzzer sounded, and the door unlocked. The man pushed the door open and motioned for us to follow. I could tell that the door was heavy, like it was solid metal. This time, the man stayed outside the room.
It was a large conference room. The décor was understated. It didn’t scream wealth, and it wasn’t overly fancy or frilly. Windows took up one long wall, and they gave a terrific view of the city of Bern. I can only assume that there were also steel plates hidden in the windowsill or the ceiling to turn the conference room into a fortress or to block out the sun during the day. A large conference table took up most of the room. It was far too large to have been brought into the room in one piece. It had to have been built in place, and it looked like solid wood instead of particleboard or laminate. It was ringed by about twenty leather chairs. At the head and foot were chairs that matched the others but had added arms. I had no idea how they could even get the pieces of this table into the room using the shaft. The regular lift didn’t have doors on this floor. Some vampires can lift a hippopotamus and a humpback whale at the same time, but the top of the table was bulky and showed no signs of scratches. It seemed too large to fit in the shaft. Getting it up to the floor in one piece must have been a challenge. Whoever the building’s manager was had a really tough job. Maybe they removed the windows and used a crane.
Fifteen or so others sat around the table. Pierre was one of them. He was sitting at the head of the table in one of the armed chairs.
On the wall behind Pierre was an oil painting of Queen Cécile. It looked very old. The painting was something you would find in a museum, and the queen was wearing the kind of dress that hadn’t been seen since the 1600s. I’m sure it was the latest fashion when she posed for the painter.
“Come in, please,” Pierre said. “Sit.”
He was pleasant, not barking orders, but he made sure he motioned toward armless chairs on the side of the table, like he assumed I would head to the empty big chair at the foot of the table. Moi?
He didn’t use our names, and he didn’t introduce us to any of the others in the conference room. It was almost evenly divided by gender. Some of the women looked petite and vulnerable, but I would guess they could handle themselves in a fight. I didn’t think it would be safe to test their strength.
Hamlet and I took chairs on the closer side of the table. We had that wonderful view of Bern across the table.
“We have a situation,” Pierre said aloud in English. “Every few hundred years, all of the various vampire kings and queens get together for a short meeting, face to face. They communicate with each other all the time using mind-words, but they like to see each other too. Queen Cécile is hosting the next meeting, which will be in a few weeks.”
He paused, either to let us all take in what he had said or to formulate what he was about to say. His English was very good, but French was the language he preferred.
“When the royals are here, it leaves their homes unprotected. They have guards and warriors, but each king or queen is the oldest or toughest vampire of that area. It leaves their homes more… umm… it invites opposition. We don’t have to worry about that, but you need to know that all our royal visitors will be on edge. They have left their territory, and vampires can be overly protective of territory.”
He waited again.
“You are here because we have to keep our visitors safe. They are the best fighters in the world, of course, or they would never have become king or queen. I need everyone here to maintain a perimeter about a kilometer out from this building. Every one of you can fight, some more insanely than others.”
He looked at me and winked. I scrunched my eyes at him.
“If a rogue or unauthorized vampire tries to head to the building, we must stop it. If you spot several vampires, use your head to ask for help. Nobody should drop their guard or leave a position. We need you to stay in place to watch. If there is an attack—and I doubt there will be, but you never know—I don’t want to leave any holes in the perimeter. Don’t let anybody coax you away from your position. We have plenty of warriors who will be up instantly to help.”
“When is this?” asked a woman, in English but with a heavy Italian accent.
“I don’t know exactly,” Pierre said. “Soon, sometime, but everything is subject to change. They don’t like to give advance notice. I will find out the day it happens. When I find out, I will call you all back to Bern. Sorry to be so secretive, but that is how the royals work. Oh, and it isn’t just our royals who need protection. We need this gathering to happen without being noticed by any of the humans in the city. This is the queen’s home, and she wants to remain as invisible as she can.”
He paused to see if anybody had any questions or concerns.
“Weapons?”
another vampire asked.
“If you want, but your main job is to watch. Okay, thanks everyone. I will call you sometime within the next few weeks.”
WITH that, the meeting ended. We were back in Bavaria in a matter of seconds.
“What was the deal with wearing black?” Hamlet asked.
“Pierre probably figured you’d show up in drag,” I said.
“Butt-wipe.”
“I can hear you,” Pierre said in our heads.
“Yeah, well, good,” Hamlet protested.
“BACK so soon?” Menz asked as we walked into the library. “You were only gone for an hour.”
“Hiking,” I said.
“Right. Give Queen Cécile my regards when you see her next time.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Hamlet said in a kind of mocking, Scarlett O’Hara voice.
“We have a new blood donor,” Menz told me.
“We always have new blood donors.”
“We do, don’t we? But this one is from north Texas. I thought you’d want to know.”
Menz clapped his hands, and in walked a young man. Tall. Thin. Muscular but not pumped or ripped.
“Lonny,” Menz said, “this is Mårten.”
“Yummy,” Lonny said. “Nice to meet you, Mårten.” I love that Texas twang. It isn’t southern but more like what you might hear in Kentucky. It is a twang, not a drawl.
Lonny walked over to me and kissed me on the lips as his hand rubbed the front of my pants.
“You here to give blood?” I asked.
“I’m here to give blood and whatever else you want, big guy. You and Oberon… both of y’all.”
I had already fed before going to Bern, but I could certainly use a snack. Flying does take some energy. Having Lonny in our bedroom would be a definite plus. His fingers were long, and we all know what that means. Like most of the other human blood donors, Lonny was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. He had gorgeous thighs and a nice bubble-butt.
“Oberon is waiting for you,” Menz said.
I guess the night’s entertainment was prearranged. Works for me.
Oberon was indeed waiting in our bedroom, the room we have shared as lovers for a hundred years. He can still make me stop dead when I see him nude. That long hair, naturally black. Most of the hair on the right side of his head was colored deep blue. The hair matched his blue eyes. Wow.
He glided up to me and started taking off my leather clothes. Lonny didn’t need a written invitation. He was out of his shorts and T-shirt in a few seconds and came to rub my inner thigh with both hands. One of his hands moved up to hold my crotch. I groaned because I got so hot with two men working on my body at the same time. Oberon’s hands went for my butt cheeks and crack because that was what he wanted to use. Lonny played with my thighs and crotch. Wow.
Oberon, still kissing me, lifted all three of us off the ground. He slowly levitated to the bed and turned in the air. When we landed, I was flat on my back on the bed, my husband was on top, and Lonny was by my right side.
Three in a bed isn’t necessary for me. I love sex, but I am happiest when it is just with Oberon. With others, it is just a fuck. No complaints, of course. Fucking is fun. I’ve enjoyed it for a hundred years, and I’m still not tired of it.
Lonny was built trim. He had a bit of chest hair but not so much that it was objectionable. I like Oberon’s smooth chest. He has a few strands of long, dark hair right around his nipples, but is smooth all the way to his pubes. Lonny sported a little more fuzz. His chest hair was as smooth and soft as you’d find on someone’s head.
He slid down and took Oberon’s dick into his mouth. Oberon let him. Most of the time, Oberon thinks mouths should only touch mouths. He likes the taste of cum, but he doesn’t really get off on blow jobs. Oberon is a fucking machine. He wants ass, and plenty of it. It is what he likes, and he is very skilled at it. He cuddles and kisses and fucks. You wouldn’t say my husband is versatile. That isn’t a complaint, because you just hit my three favorite things. I love to kiss and cuddle, and I really like Oberon to make love to me. And Oberon would spend all day making love to me. I think our record is eight times in a single night. Talk about raw. I could barely sit for days, and vampires heal really fast. He must have done some serious damage that night, and I loved every second of it.
Oberon was sitting on my legs and playing with my dick and balls while Lonny moved back and forth between Oberon’s dick and mine. It didn’t seem fair to Lonny, whose dick was getting no attention. I reached out and pulled on his leg. That was all the invitation he needed. He swung around to put his cock just over my mouth. It is hard for a vampire to give a blow job because of the fangs. You can do serious damage to a human without intending to. I had to be careful because my fangs are always out during sex.
Oh, okay. Lonny didn’t want a blow job. He wanted to fuck my face. Cool, I like that. Lonny was sucking my dick while he fucked my face. It was a kind of modified sixty-nine with me beneath two men and unable to move. Lonny’s hips did all the movement necessary. Lonny was your basic top/bottom/anal/oral/kisser who also liked to cuddle. It was great.
Oberon slid between my legs and parted them widely. I knew what he wanted, so I floated about a half a meter off the bed. Lonny wasn’t freaked out, but I don’t know for sure that he noticed. He was a little busy with my dick in his mouth and his in my mouth.
Oberon glided gently under me, and I felt his dick on the edge of my hole. He had spun around and had both hands on my shoulders. Oberon was on the bottom, and Lonny was on top. I was the sausage in the middle of the sandwich. Oberon usually starts making love slowly. This time he just wanted to fuck, so he impaled me with enough force that Lonny’s mouth was knocked off my dick. No lube; maybe some spit, but mainly just Oberon’s pre-cum. It is just the way I like it. An uncut cock doesn’t need much lube, and Oberon always had enough pre-cum ready to do the trick. He does know how to make an “entrance.”
I’m sure Lonny saw that we were hovering off the bed, but he barely missed a beat fucking my face, and his mouth was back over my own dick quickly. Oberon pounded my butt. It was hard and fast. He growled deeply, like he was a werewolf or something. He grabbed the sides of my hips to control the motion better. When we fuck floating, Newton’s laws about equal and opposite reactions become a factor. Oberon is powerful enough that he could have sent Lonny and me hurling to the ceiling. With every thrust, Oberon pulled down on my hips.
It didn’t take long. When Oberon gets into that “I need to fuck” mood, he takes care of business hard and fast. In just a couple of minutes I heard the groan that told me that he was about to shoot a load of cum into my ass.
I had to try to cum. Most of the time I have to hold back so I don’t shoot too soon. That wouldn’t be a problem now. A little after Oberon’s explosion, I sent a load of cum blasting into Lonny’s mouth. That set off a chain reaction. I soon tasted Lonny’s gusher. Sweet. Tasty. As he shot, I put my arms around his waist so he couldn’t move. Locked into place, I let my fangs sink into Lonny’s dick, holding him tight so I didn’t make any large gashes.
“God fucking damn!” Lonny screamed. I’m sure the whole house heard him. I held him while I took his blood. It was just a snack, so I only fed for about ten seconds. I sealed up the wounds on his dick and kept him motionless until I was sure the bleeding had stopped. When I release him, he didn’t move. Lonny wanted to stay right where he was, so I guess he liked it. I had to push him off to the side of the bed.
Oberon was already up. He wiped his dick with a towel and then wiped my butt with the other end of the towel.
“Oh, my God,” Lonny said. “That was amazing.”
I had done that sort of thing several hundred times over the past century. It isn’t a daily thing, but one of the blood donors will want me to feed from his dick once or twice a year. It was still amazing, even to me.
I’m not a huge fan of three-way sex, but I knew that we would see Lonny many times before he graduated from colleg
e. He was a good fit for Oberon and me, and the Texan was really adventuresome. He was probably willing to try anything.
Oberon was hard again. He’s always hard. This time he had his eyes on our visiting Texan, and Lonny must have known the look, because he scooted closer to the middle of the bed. Oberon lifted Lonny’s legs and drove his rod into Lonny’s hole. He wasn’t fast or rough, like he had been with me, but he already knew my limits. You find out quite a bit about somebody’s sexual abilities after a hundred years. Lonny’s ass was unknown territory, so Oberon took a moment to survey the equipment. When he was satisfied, he slowly built up the tempo. That’s the Oberon I’m used to. He starts so slow it almost makes you mad: “Get on with it, dude.” But just as you think he’s going to spend all night with his dick up your ass, he gets heavier and faster.
Lonny’s dick was only partially hard. He was a one shoot per day guy, like me. Oberon didn’t mind. He was happy to have his dick up somebody’s butt, and he was happy that Lonny seemed to be enjoying it. I like to watch Oberon fuck.
I love to watch Oberon. Period. Doing anything. I could tell from his grin and the sparkle in his eyes that he was really enjoying himself. I played with Lonny’s nipples and dick. There was a little pre-cum, which I wiped off and swallowed.
Rather than an explosive end, Oberon kept things in at the same speed. I knew when he came because of the expression on his face, but he didn’t explode into Lonny.
After savoring the moment, Oberon slid out and grabbed the towel. He gently wiped Lonny’s butt, and then he wiped his dick. Lonny just lay there with that freshly fucked look.
“They talk, you know,” Lonny finally said.
We must have looked puzzled.
“The other staff members, they talk about you two.”
“What do they say?” Oberon asked.
“Frisky,” Lonny admitted. “They say you two are good for a romp in the sack.”
“Romp?” Oberon asked.
