My Vampire Wife

Literotic asexstories – My Vampire Wife by ABigCat,ABigCat
This is my entry for the Halloween Story Contest 2023, the first I’ve ever entered. It’s just over a half-hour read.

There’s an apparent rape scene but it’s not what it seems. Still, avoid if you might be triggered.

Everyone is older than 18—One is even a hundred times older.

I’m in the process of illustrating it, and those of you who read my last illustrated story “The Experiment” will know why this takes ages. If I waited to post the illustrated version I’d be even later to the competition so here’s the standalone version for now.

Enjoy!

BC

x

My Vampire Wife

It’s true the sky is darkest just before dawn. I’ve learned to wake to this darkness instead of sunrise because that’s when my wife, the Abhartach, the vampire, comes home. Siobhan works nights while I work the day shift and she’s gone by the time I’m back, so there’s a dreamlike period between my waking and her dead slumber where we get to live our married life. Two or three times if we can.

Not this morning though. It’s 31st October, Halloween, and the days before always get tetchy, so we argued before she left last night. I’ve not slept. I wonder if she’ll try to avoid me today and sure enough when she’s home she tiptoes about the bedroom. I watch her dim silhouette slip through the dark with the silent confidence of one born to it, shedding her clothes and padding into the shower before sliding under the sheets. That’s when she surprises me.

“Wakey wakey sleepyhead.” She spoons my back while squeezing my front scratchily, like a cat with a cushion. Her hips stir at my bottom. Her cheery horn muddles my sleepless self-righteousness. “Max…” she huffs hotly into my ear, her sibilance drawing my name out like a hiss. “Max…”

She’s radiantly warm, and her heart’s a rat-a-tat drum. She’s been hunting. She smells of baked earth and Chanel soap-not like sex and death at all.

I yawn and stretch and pretend she’s woken me from an untroubled sleep. “Successful night?”

Her sigh is husky-a delicate growl. I feel like I’m in bed with a happy panther. “Glorious,” she purrs.

We’ve been married for fifteen years and her post-hunt bliss still stings. I can’t help it, I’m only human. And a human cop, too. I want to hear all the gory details. Did she kill? Or, worse, did she orgasm?

“Eat me.” She kisses my neck and bites it playfully. “Darlink.”

The corny Dracula voice always makes me laugh, even when I’m angry. I guess she knows it too. I snake round in her arms to face her. Her needy hug is so tight my ribs crick. I wince and she relaxes her grip. I’m six-foot-six and built like a truck and my wife’s a kittenish five-four. Yet she could snap me in two. She coils a leg around me, squeezes my balls and whispers, “I’m going to suck you dry.”

I wonder how many would scream if a creature like Siobhan told them that.

I don’t scream. I marvel at how a grizzly fuck like me got to marry an actual angel: Sleek black bob, wraparound eyes and a mouth that could eat me whole. When I first set eyes on her, smirking from her doorstep, I staggered like I was shot. We met because a load of scumbag suspects-pimps, rapists, groomers-had dropped dead while we were still building cases against them, and she seemed to be the only connection. I called round to her billionaire’s apartment to interview her. And never left.

She writhes her naked front on mine, caressing me with her whole body, and my sudden erection undoes a brooding night of carefully constructed, fight-winning strategies. I kiss her, teasing her mouth with what she wants between her legs. She recognises my game and chuckles as we kiss. Her breath is autumn rain, not metallic blood, and her teeth are human and small. She kicks off our sheet because she’s too hot. By the next full moon she’ll be much, much colder. Then she’ll feed again.

I keep the blackout shutters open at night and Siobhan’s glassy penthouse is set on top of the city’s tallest tower. Only the fat moon can see us, and it silvers our bodies. Her stiff nipples graze my pecs while her vulva kisses my leg wetly. She swings her knees apart and gently pushes my shoulders downward.

I plant my cock between her thighs like an anchor.

“Fuck me later.” She slithers along my body. “Eat me.”

Siobhan’s clitoris is always ravenous but doubly so on a full moon. This is what opened a can of worms last night, how she always wants oral while I need to fuck. It’s not about licking versus shagging though. That’s a proxy argument for a scarier fight we started years ago: Ever since I said I wanted children, and she said she couldn’t conceive, she rarely fucks. Then there’s this business about the Turning.

She tries to get her hips to my face again and I grip her in place. “I want to come with you. I want to make love.”

She easily breaks free. “This is love. Kiss my cunt.” A wicked grin. “With tongues.” She climbs on top of me and starts rutting her way up my torso.

This is an old dance that was exciting when we were both in our twenties and I had an eight-pack hard enough to grind on. Now I’m forty and down to a soft six-pack while she’s not aged a day. She’s never complained-or commented-but I can’t help but compare her eternal youth to my increasing bagginess.

Still, I can’t resist her. I flip her onto her back. She squeals. She might be ten times stronger than me but she’s still half my weight and physics is physics.

I kiss her breasts in my own sweet time, even though it drives her nuts with horn, then spiral slowly down her belly. She bum-shuffles up to speed me to my target. By the time I’m in place between my angelic, demonic, wife’s thighs she’s gripped her legs behind the knee and splayed like a porn star.

Her black eyes glitter owlish in the half-dark, watching me admire her puffy folds. I open her cunt lips and juices trickle out. I kiss her inner thighs, lick wetness off my lips and make sure she can see that.

I’m salivating, but she’s ignoring the ultimatum I made last night. I need to put my foot down. Halloween only comes once a year.

“It’s Halloween tonight,” I venture. “And a full moon.”

“Hmm?” Like she can’t hear. Like she can’t read my fucking mind.

“What was our conversation before you left?” I cat lap her slippy thigh top.

“Can’t remember.” She nudges her sex toward my mouth. “Oh yes. You woke me halfway through an awesome threeway dream, and I told you about it and got you super hard, then-”

“Then I told you no more sex until… when?”

“Eat me.” She kicks her feet.

“I said I won’t lick you until you make me one of your kind. And it’s Halloween, the only time you can Turn me.”

“You don’t want to be like me.”

“What? You know I want to be immortal too. I’m forty, and look at you, still twenty-five. Fifteen Halloweens and you haven’t Turned me. If you do it this year we can still stay young forever.” Damn, listen to me, who’d want to spend eternity with this whiny sod? “You were the one who had Till death do us part removed from our fucking marriage vows.”

“Max.” She squeezes her mound then slaps it. Her plumped flesh wobbles mouthwateringly. “If I have to make myself come, then what use are you at all?” She says this through a laugh. Fucking avoidance. How can someone who lives so violently be so shit at confrontation?

She rubs her clit in front of my face, pushing out her jaw, as if to teach me a lesson. I swipe her hand away, and press a kiss to her cunt lips. She grunts. Her appetite is insane on hunt nights. Fucked-up insane. I kiss her again, slower. “I can make you come so hard you’ll squirt for me. Is that what you want?”

She groans.

“Let me taste you.” My lips brush her clit. “Turn me.”

She shivers. “P-please. I’m too horny. I saved myself for you all night. Eat me. Then we’ll talk.”

“So you don’t need to suck me after?”

“You know I do. A-after that. We’ll talk after that.”

“You need my cum.”

She jerks a nod, biting her lip. She does need it too. Me eating her is only an overture to her draining me—like slapping up a vein. On the streets, to my shame, I’ve used the same fix-denial tactic to get intel from junkies. I can make my wife do anything if I withhold my semen right now. Like I said, hunt nights are fucked-up.

I watch her slot drool, and give her a long moment to feel her withdrawal closing in, then shrug. “I’m off then.” I peck a kiss to her clit. “Bye.”

“OK!” Her hips push for more as I pull away, licking a string of juices off my lips. Her eyes slit. “OK, I’ll do it. You. I’ll Turn you.”

“Really?” I wait for the teasing laugh. It doesn’t come. “Cross your heart?”

She snorts at my bad vampire joke. “Mm-hmm.”

“When will you do it? Midnight?”

She spreads her lips. “Eat me!”

I lean close to her cunt, so she can feel my breath. “And what’s the magic word? Eat me…?”

“…Motherfucker.”

I scoff and flick a lick at her flushed bud. She whimpers. I run my tongue along her slimy slot, slick it all the way up, under her hood. She shudders, spreads wider. “Don’t stop.”

I can’t stop now. I live for my wife’s animal, oceanic taste. I take her entire vulva into me and feast and in moments she cries out, jerking at my mouth like she’s my prey. My cunt-drunk heart leaps for joy, not just from my wife’s arousal but from imagining I’m Turned and feeding.

Siobhan arches and blathers ancient, guttural, curses. She presses my head tight to her, squirming against my flickering tongue.

Siobhan doesn’t come like a preternatural apex predator. She doesn’t roar or thrash and I’m not left clawed and bitten. Siobhan comes like a young woman, squeaking and laughing and writhing. She comes vulnerably and gratefully, and when she’s twitched her last, and pumped the last of her little gushes, she’s smoochy and loving. She drags my head to her mouth to snog me, even as I swallow the last pulses of her orgasm. She tastes my tongue and plucks “thank you” kisses over my chin and cheeks, then my neck and my chest and belly…

And when her lips finally find my veiny club, she breathes, “Oh at fucking last.” And slides her mouth over my end.

You don’t know trust until you’ve let a vampire suck your cock. Especially if you’ve witnessed exactly how she kills.

The day I asked Siobhan to marry me, I thought I was pledging undying love to a diminutive, wicked-tongued, Irish girl. She said yes and she took the diamond ring I offered, but she didn’t put it on. She stared at it sadly, and said I needed to know the truth about her first. She sat me down and played me a video recorded in our bedroom the week before, when I was away. Apparently when it comes to explaining the impossible, it’s best to show, not tell.

The video showed her bringing a man home. A tall, wiry, glam-goth type. He dragged Siobhan into our bedroom by her dress. They were both laughing.

“It’s not always men,” she said to my bemusement, like that was the problem here, the gender of the person cuckolding me. “Sometimes I do girls, but I only feed on misogynists, abusers and rapists. So, y’know, that’s blokes most of the time.”

She winced as she watched me watch the video.

The guy kissed my wife like a head butt, grinding his designer-stubbled chin on her mouth. He tore her dress down and bit her nipples, then jammed her against a wall while he dropped his trousers. He scraped her panties aside and shoved his skinny dick inside her. “Baby you’re wet.” A weedy Essex accent. “You like it rough, eh?” He thrust a dozen times, called her a lucky cunt, then yanked her to her knees by her hair. She was still smiling-a rictus grin more defiant than joyful.

My hands clasped my mouth. To stop me turning inside out, I think. “Why are you making me watch this?”

“Shh.” She tapped the screen.

Her screen-self tucked her hair behind her ears and regarded the fucker’s glistening dick. So she really was wet… how? Her sweet little breasts had livid scratches across them. Or I thought they did, the welts seemed to dissolve as I watched. Her face was blank. Shark-eyed.

“This is what you want from me, is that it?” I bleated.

“Watch.”

In hell, I forced myself to watch Siobhan wrap her lips around this wet prick. The bloke grimaced and shoved, holding her head, fucking it. All the while, her hands lay flat in her lap. My cheeks blazed, my fists clenched. I swung at the screen to smash it, like that might smash the toxic fucker to pieces too but Siobhan easily dodged and I swiped only air.

“Wait for it,” she said.

“I’m gonna spunk all over your pretty cunting face.” The glam-goth tried to pull out, but Siobhan reached one arm under, between his legs, and gripped his buttocks to hold him in place. She took him deeper into her, balls deep, and glared up at him.

He struggled, but even one-handed she had him clamped tight. He sneered. “You want my jizz, slut?” He tried to thrust at her again but she was already frantically ramming him into her throat. He wasn’t giving. She was taking. She shoved her middle finger knuckle-deep into his anus. He jolted and roared.

Then, still fixed to the shuddering fucker, and easily bearing his weight, my petite girlfriend stood. She hoisted him above her, tipped her head back and glugged from him like a bottle.

My world lurched, twisted, and set at a new, crazed angle.

As she stared at the engagement ring in her fidgeting fingers, Siobhan explained how real vampires, the ancient celtic Abhartach like her, didn’t drink blood. They had more refined tastes, tastes that were hard for our materialistic society to accept. “I drink souls,” she said. “And orgasms are your purest expression of lifeforce. Coming is when your soul rises briefly to the surface of your being, like the tip of an iceberg.” On screen, the fucker’s legs jerked as she drained not just his orgasm, but his entire ghost, right to the dregs. His life passed invisibly from his lazily twitching form into this small, powerful creature, his peculiar cries of ecstatic horror drowned by her cock-muffled cackling.

She cast him aside like an empty wrapper, then dropped to her haunches and fingered herself frantically over his spent, lifeless body.

“Still want to marry me?” Siobhan thumbed off her screen. “The monster?”

What could I say? What I’d thought were my girl’s quirks now added up to something dark. Yes she was nocturnal, and feline, and yes, she could bedazzle with a flick of her eye, and read intentions just as quick. And yes she never worried about anything, not even money, which she had in apparently limitless supply despite not having a job. All fine, endearing even. But now this? My girlfriend hunts down assholes, and blisses them to death?

Fuck it. Whatever. I’m a London cop-I’d seen worse.

“You’re no monster.” I kissed her as gently as I could, to be the opposite of that fucker, but also out of awe. I took my ring from her. “You’re an avenging angel.”

I slid the diamond ring onto her finger.

Fifteen years later that diamond twinkles bright as ever while Siobhan holds my cock to her mouth and happily nods, slipping her tender mouth up and down my shaft. Her tongue swirls out with each stroke and she hums like I’m delicious. I recall the goth’s ghastly, enraptured spasms as she devoured him.

I stroke her cheek. “I love you.”

She rolls her eyes, as if to say, “Of course you love me, I’ve got your cock in my mouth.” But then she curls over my hips, sighs and sucks me more insistently, rubbing me into her. I can’t help it, every time she does this I wonder, is this it? Is this the time she judges me not worthy and sucks me to death? Because that’s her role after all, to remove the shits from the gene pool one shit at a time. Have I been good this week? Or have behaved badly, given way to unconscious bias, talked over a woman, or down to her, or walked past someone needing my help?

Siobhan works me hard and fast. My orgasm, my soul, rises, unstoppably drawn out by my beautiful, impossible, Abhartach wife.

“I’m coming,” I blurt, but she knows this better than I.

“Mm-hmm!” she cheers anyway.

I come as if struck by lightning. It whiplashes me off the bed. Eyes aflame, Sioban holds her mouth open and rubs me into her, so I can watch my thick white ropes splatter her lips and curled-out tongue. She smiles benevolently while making this unholy mess, to prove she won’t drain me like her prey. Only after I’ve coated her tongue does she close her lips over me. With a slicked mouth, she sucks loosely, semen rolling down her chin, dripping from her thumb. She laps up my drips so they can dribble out again, over and over, proving and re-proving that she’s not killing me, she’s eking out my orgasm as long as she can. I twitch and curse and she takes a heart-stopping age until I’m spent and finally, by degrees, sucked and licked clean.

She withdraws to grin messily at me, suddenly almost shy. She kisses my softening cockhead and smacks her lips. But then, as ever, there’s a moment where it seems she needs to suck one last time. Her eyes flash feral. She takes me back into her and holds me in her warm, deadly mouth for a stuttering heartbeat.

Then she sighs, and lets me go.

She inspects her wrist, laps a splash from it. “More.”

“Nope.” I pull away. “Not until-”

“Alright, alright.” She blasts a yawn and flops onto her back. “Tonight,” she croaks. Then snores.

#

My wife was born a thousand years ago to a long line of milkmaids in Slaghtaverty, Ireland. When she was 25, one freakishly sticky Halloween night, she lay naked on the cool peat roof of her hut. In her words, “I made the mistake of pleasing myself three times under a full moon, and this attracted a beast who Turned me into an immortal Abhartach. The beast was my first love.”

And that’s all she’ll say about that. She won’t tell me anything about her lover or the Turning or what happened after. All she’ll tell me is that she’s had only two true loves in her thousand years, and I’m the second. She said she avoided relationships because human partners always died. “Grief is the price we pay for love,” she told me. “And the immortal pay over and over.” Either that or her lovers let her down. “People change so much over a human lifetime, why give them eternity to disappoint me?”

I consider this all day at work, as I record the details of another pimp found dead from unexplained heart failure. I investigate this with all the vigour the mystery deserves. He was a handsome, muscular chap so I guess his death was Siobhan’s handiwork. She’s drawn to the pretty ones. I wonder who punishes the ugly abusers. Then I remember that’s my job.

At sunset I head home to find, with a surge of irritation, that our penthouse is empty.

Typical. Siobhan lied. Again. And again I console myself with a bottle of Jamesons in the bath.

The black marble pool is large enough for a party and set before a glass wall offering a panoramic cityscape. In other words, custom-made to make you lonely. I’ve spent more of our marriage sunk in this hot gloom than in my hot wife.

I’ve got the bath’s temperature set on auto so it won’t go cold and opened the windows to puff steam into the night like the environment’s not fucked and we can all do what the fuck we like. Sirens pass below and pigeons flock above and the full moon doesn’t care if I live or die either. Likewise my phone, sat by the bathside, its screen black.

Siobhan and I would have so much time together if she Turned me. Not just because we’d be immortal, but because we’d finally be in sync, sleeping through the days and playing all night. I don’t know why she avoids it.

I wallow and swill and dwell on what it must be like having Siobhan’s power and grace and her animal senses and her speed. And how transparent people must be if you’ve lived so many lifetimes. She answers all my questions before I’ve even asked them, for example. Also, while barely moving her lips, she can make a whisper plant itself right between my eyes-a kind of line-of-sight telepathy. When I asked her if that was a trick she learned, or some lesser-known vampiric power she laughed. “No sweetie, that’s just your devotion, hanging on my every word.”

I belch the last of my whiskey, and consider opening a single malt I’d been saving for Turning day, when I hear the front door unlock and rattle open. It’s unusual for Siobhan to make so much noise and sure enough the sound’s followed by giggling shushes. Two female voices.

Seriously? After fifteen years of never inviting anyone round-not to meet me anyway-Siobhan chooses tonight, Halloween, the one night she promised to make me immortal. I don’t how that’s supposed to work other than what’s in all the stories, but doesn’t making me a vampire, Abhartach, whatever, involve her draining me then feeding me her own “blood”, her orgasmic lifeforce? That’s how it’s supposed to work, right? Nowhere does it say you need a giggly friend to help things along. Fucksake.

She’s playing games to avoid Turning me. If she doesn’t want me to be with her forever why doesn’t she just say? She enjoys having power over me, clearly, the same way I withhold my cum from her to get my way. No. I’m not letting her bullshit me today. Let her think I’m not in.

I grab my phone and text her: Got to pull a double, sorry love. See you tomorrow xx

I hear her phone ping with my message. She curses.

“Oh no, is that yer fella?” A deep female voice. Not Siobhan’s, but Irish though.

“Yep. He’s working an extra shift.”

“Fucken men.”

“Ah well. His loss. Come here you sexy cow.”

I’m out of the bath with vampiric speed. Dripping and goosefleshed, I open the bathroom door a crack. The way the apartment’s laid out, I can see from our ensuite up a short hallway into the main space. They’ve left the lights off. Siobhan, in her dressed-to-kill little-black-dress, is standing in a beam of moonlight, next to a willowy, red-haired girl in jeans and a crop top. They’re kicking off their sandals and stroking each other’s bare arms and necks, tittering.

My fucked-up first reaction is that she’s already fed this month. And anyway this woman looks too wide-eyed and girly to be an abuser, she seems unlikely to make Siobhan’s kill list. But if my wife’s seeing someone behind my back then why bring them here on a day we said we’d meet?

Unless… shit. We’ve shared a threesome fantasy for ages. Siobhan loves telling me the things she’d like to do with me and another person. So she’s brought a like-minded woman home to realise it. A peace offering, perhaps. That must be it, but why tonight? Perhaps it’s part of my Turning, some kind of vampire test. Siobhan jokes about my devotion to her, but she’s not wrong. I wonder if she needs to see if I can be turned on by another woman. Once I’m immortal I’ll need to feed too, and I guess that means giving some women crazy orgasms so I can feast on their soul. When we argued about Turning me she asked who I’d feed on to maintain my immortality. “Do you want to suck off abusive men like me? There’s millions of those in the world. Or slowly starve while you hang out for sexy, abusive women to drain?” I told her I met many abusive females in my line of work. She laughed. “Good luck getting it up for that lot.”

Back in our dim lounge, however, Siobhan shares nibbly kisses with an elfin beauty straight out of a fairy tale and for now at least I’m powerfully hard. Whatever Siobhan’s motivation, she’s found someone who wants sex with us. And I’ve pretended I’m working.

Cursing my boozy wits for making me send that text, I dry off and consider how I can join the girls without damaging my pride. They’re kissing deeply now, tongues and lips glistening in the moonlight, while their hands get greedy, squeezing breasts and bottoms.

Hypnotised, I’m drawn into the hallway where I lurk in the shadows, gawping. Siobhan unfastens the girl’s jeans and slides her hand down the front. The girl gasps in their kiss, and her hand shoots up Siobhan’s skirt. They moan. Then suddenly I’m in the room with them. Their eyes are shut, hips stirring on each other’s fingers.

I take a seat in an armchair in the room’s darkest shadow. The lounge lighting is programmed to come on if we snap our fingers twice. I could give them quite a shock. But I’m rapt as Siobhan drags the girl’s jeans down and she kicks them away without breaking their giggly kiss. Siobhan squeezes her friend’s plump gusset only to have her hand shoved down the girl’s panties instead. Our visitor then yanks Siobhan’s tight skirt up to her waist before sending cheeky fingers to work in my wife’s knickers.

“Damn, you’re wet,” the girl mutters.

“You too.” Siobhan takes her hand from under her friend and offers glossy fingers to their kiss. “Fuck.” Siobhan sucks her friend off her fingers. “You’re delicious.”

The girl whimpers. “Loads more where that came from.”

They kiss deeply again, humming into each other, tugging waistbands. I lean forward in my seat. Fuck, yes.

The girls burst into laughter.

“Fucksake, Max.” Siobhan snaps her fingers and the room lights up. “What’re you doing? Are you drunk?”

I cross my legs as if that’ll hide my erection. The girl’s find this even funnier. They stand there arm-in-arm in the middle of our lounge, resplendent in their soggy knickers, and laugh at my hard-on.

Siobhan sparkles. “Max, this is Aoife. Aoife, Max. We just met tonight didn’t we, babe? Turns out she’s from Slaghtaverty, too, what’re the chances, eh?”

I nod. I want to quip something cool and urbane, but my head grinds its gears. My ears burst into flame.

“Oh sweetheart, don’t be cross.” Siobhan grazes Aoife’s belly with her fingernails. “We just hit it off, and it turns out this lovely lady has always shared the same fantasy as us, and-”

“And I love a man in uniform.” Aoife sniggers. “Or out of it.”

Siobhan kisses her cheek. “What do you think?”

I think my wife’s talking to me, but Aoife answers. “I think…” She twists a foot, and rests her dollish forehead against Sioban’s while running a hooded gaze up and down me. “Yes, please.”

Two sets of saucer eyes blink at me, one set black as night, the other blue as a summer’s day. I feel like the king of the jungle about to be mauled by a couple of hungry Bambis. I uncross my legs and brandish my rigid manhood as if it might protect me.

The girls blush, bite their lips and scrutinise it, stroking each other’s bottoms. Then on some telepathic cue, they hook their thumbs in their knickers and simultaneously bend over, sweeping their underwear to their ankles. The dark mirror of the glass behind them presents a vision I will take to my grave, if I ever have one, then they stand before me, hands on hips, naked from the waist down.

Siobhan’s enticingly podgy mound has been bald since the day she Turned-she lost all her body hair below the neck for some reason-but Aoife sports a vivid red triangle over bare, florid lips and I can’t take my eyes off her. A sting of guilt makes me hope my ogling hasn’t upset my wife.

But she’s as excited as I am. “Oh, how divine.” Siobhan fluffs at her new friend’s little copper tuft, then watches me as she tucks fingers under. Aoife’s breath hitches. She bites her lip, then reaches between my wife’s legs.

Fingers play. Eyelids droop.

I’m on my feet and standing over the girls in a heartbeat. They look up at me with identical expressions, open-faced yet relishing the effect of their cheeky display on me. I stroke their naked rears, and cup them one in each hand. My heart hammers so hard it wobbles my pec. I realise I’m actually salivating for these women. No, for their orgasms. That’s new.

“Babe, your man looks hungry.” Aoife drags her top off over her head and, wild-haired, tips her rosebud lips to me.

I kiss her and her tongue bolts into my mouth. Siobhan chuckles, writhes off her dress, and joins our kiss. Three tongues chase each other from mouth to mouth and the girls wriggle and whimper on each other’s fingers. On mine too, as I reach behind to fondle their marshmallowy folds.

Wet fingers trace my cock. Aoife stares at me in her light fist. “Fuck, your hubby has a beautiful penis. Can I suck it?”

“Of course.” Siobhan squirms on my fingers, watching my erection in another woman’s lascivious grip. “But fucking’s his thing, isn’t it sweetie?”

My throat clasps. Is that why Aoife’s here? Does Siobhan feel she’s not meeting my needs?

My wife nods, as ever, reading my mind. I’m sorry, she mouths silently, but it rings loud as a bell in my devoted skull. I’ve been selfish.

“Goody, I love a shag.” Aoife stoops to kiss and nuzzle my cock and I relish her adoration, even though I’m lumpen and veiny against her smooth cheeks. She covers me in more kisses anyway, growling, “I want to sit on you so bad, you beauty.”

Siobhan kneels to join her friend at my comically bouncy erection. Their kisses, plucked around my cock and balls, soon become tonguey sweeps and loose-lipped sucking that seem to be as much about snogging each other as my penis, trapped happily between. I’m harder than a motherfucker as they slide up and down my shaft and I stroke their busy heads, marvelling at how just minutes ago, I was wallowing in a bath of misery.

Aoife takes me into her mouth and she feels small compared to the huge gob I’m used to, but also excitingly new. Siobhan leans back and watches her new friend suck her husband. Her thousand-year-old gaze swells uncharacteristically wide-eyed, and she toys between her legs. Her expression swings between a “do you like it?” need for her friend’s approval and a pride in me that makes me feel like a god. Also a bitten-cheeked anxiety, too. I guess blowjobs are dangerous in Siobhan’s world and she seems instinctively ready to spring to my defence should this woman go all Abhartach and try to feed off me.

Siobhan catches my eye and flushes. She murmurs, “So hot,” and turns to the girl’s breasts, running slippery fingertips over her nipples before kissing them. Aoife groans and it thrums down my shaft and tickles my soul. I grasp my buttocks and hold on. I’ve always loved how sex is as much the vicarious thrill of what Siobhan feels as my own sensations but, for all our perving over threesome fantasies, I never anticipated how this excitement is dangerously doubled with two lovers. The desire of one woman was already bewitching, two was overwhelming. That and fifteen years of Siobhan’s cum-needy quickies mean I could easily explode already.

“F-fuck,” I rumble.

This is the first thing I’ve said all evening. It makes Aoife snort hotly over my balls, and swing a gaze up at me that’s both demure and wicked, before melting back over my dick. Then time melts too, drawn out by Aoife’s languid nod, exploring my fat cock with her little mouth. My hips rock at the woman’s coper-topped, crimson-cheeked head. She whimpers as she sucks.

But Siohban’s kissing goes southbound and Aoife soon unsuckers from me to bluster yesses. Then she rises, twisting her hips to face my wife while licking and biting her way up my abs, chest and neck. Siobhan buries her chin under, and I can tell the instant tongue meets cunt because Aoife sighs and lolls back against me.

I join my wife in spoiling our guest. While Aoife rocks her bottom against my cock and her mound at Siobhan’s mouth I stroke her breasts, stiffen her nipples, then open her lips to Siobhan’s swirling tongue. I use my own in her ear-hoping this drives her mad as it does my wife-and am rewarded by a quiver that has us holding her steady.

I tour her body, lip-nipping her nipples, before dropping down her spine to her bottom. Siobhan works from the front, and I watch from behind Aoife’s buttocks as my wife’s tongue eels between cunt lips, making them flap and wiggle until I can’t resist joining in. Between us we adore our new friend from clitoris to anus..

With her feet planted wide, Aoife claws our scalps and blathers in Gaelic. I can’t tell if it’s curses or prayers or spells, but it ends in her cackling and juddering between us. She squeaks and dances on tiptoe, then her knees unhook, and I instinctively grip her bum but Siobhan’s there already. I recall how the woman can heft a fully grown man like a coke bottle, and leave her to it, lapping while her friend begs her not to stop even though she’s come already.

I run my tongue up Aoife’s clefts all the way up the dip of her spine, until I’m standing behind her, kissing her offered lips, my cock lodged under her buttocks. Aoife slides along me like she’s riding a witch’s broom, clasping my hand to her breast. “I’m going to fuck you,” I whisper and Aoife shivers. But actually it’s not up to me. Down below a little demon loves us up at her leisure. She licks and sucks, and with a mischievous, “Yes…” rubs my dick on Aoife’s clit as if I’m some kind of sex toy.

In this position, the sensations of lips, tongue and vulva are so deliciously indefinable that I don’t realise I’m inside Aoife until she rocks back on me and moans right from her soul-literally if Siobhan is to be believed.

I fuck Aoife with my wife between our feet, flipping her tongue on her friend’s clit and occasionally lapping my balls like a reward to goad me on. When it gets too much for the girl, her legs shaking under the onslaught of cock and tongue, Siobhan guides us backwards onto our oversized sofa. Aoife straddles me and I hold her steady so I can pump up into her while my wife suckles on her clit. The sight of Aoife’s round bum wobbling as it slaps against my thrusts is as compelling as the sloppy plunge of my cock, but I’m caught by the window’s reflection behind Siobhan. While she’s knelt between our knees, licking and utterly attentive to our pleasure, her knees are spread and her fingers dig and flap at her own sex.

My heart melts for her, so I tip Aoife onto her side. The girls seem to read my mind and Aoife throws a leg back over me while reaching out for Siobhan’s hips. Sioban joins Aoife on the sofa in a sideways sixty-nine while I fuck our guest from behind. Delirious, and crimson from cheeks to breasts, Aoife nuzzles breathlessly between my wife’s thighs while we lick and fuck her. Siobhan glitters up at me while she slurps her fat tongue from my pumping balls to Aoife’s clitoris and ballward again. I’ve never loved my wife so much.

I know, she mouths between licks, as ever, reading me like a book and responding with her spooky whisper-bomb. Still want me to Turn you?

But what does she mean by that? Does she think if I get a shag I’ll finally give up on the childish notion of being like her? Like a good fuck was all this dumb bastard ever really needed. Like I don’t care if my wife remains forever young and virile while I get old and decrepit-our marriage worse than childless, actually leaking life away. No. I want to live forever. With her. If she can’t give life to children, I want her to give life to me.

She shuts her eyes as if my thought was too loud to bear and nods, swallowing as if gathering herself for something unpleasant. I pull her face to mine and kiss her and when I pull away she has a brave—or maybe worried-smile. I kiss her again and fuck her friend harder. Aoife moans between Siobhan’s thighs and slides a finger into her. Siobhan shivers in my kiss then pulls away to regard my wet meat pistoning. “So hot!” she says, this time loud enough for Aoife to hear. The girl hums agreement into my wife’s cunt, then Siobhan throws me a chilling look. Her face is blank. Her eyes black.

Kill her, she mouths.

The room loops-the-loop. I must recoil because I find myself standing over the girls, no longer fucking Aoife. I watch them lost in their sixty-nine. Aoife lies spread under Siobhan who already looks like she’s devouring the girl with mouths at both ends of her body. Aoife smiles blissfully as she licks, and squeezes Siobhan’s bum over her as if that gets more juice out. She’s no idea that my wife wants her dead.

Impossible. I must have misunderstood. I shake off the notion, throw a knee over Aoife’s licking head and slide my cock into Siobhan’s cunt. Perhaps I’m angry, but I want to fuck her whether she cares for it or not. I’m asserting my humanity. This is how we make human babies, remember? This is how humans make love and how we make children that we also love. Siobhan stiffens, then gasps, “Fuck yes!” and pushes back at me. Is she faking? Aoife licks my balls but then I build up speed plundering my wife, so she concentrates on her so-called-friend instead.

“Hmm,” Siobhan cries into Aoife’s cunt. “HMM!”

The combination of cock and tongue unlocks my wife almost instantly. Her hole flutters on my shaft. I haven’t felt that in years. She’s actually coming on me. She throws back her head and yelps, pumping her hips against my thrusts, making Aoife giggle madly beneath her as we thump our slobbery sexes together over the slick pad of her tongue.

Siobhan collapses and spasms on her friend, her cheek pressed to Aoife’s sex like a little pillow. She bursts a long sigh, and throws a glance back at me through cave-girl hair.

I never said I didn’t like fucking, she mouths. It just takes me too long to come that way. She smiles dreamily. Usually.

She rolls off us, gripping her post-orgasmic cunt like it might explode. Aoife licks me again as I withdraw from my wife. She popsicle-sucks the juices from me. It’s a gentle, supping gesture that seems to be for her more than me, but then works it her up so much she tilts back her head, grips my hips and pulls me right down her throat.

I feel Siobhan’s eyes on me. In fact, I feel her watching through my eyes even. Can she do that? Yes… Her silent whisper hisses in my head like I’ve got a serpent trapped in there. Choke her with your cock. Then strangle her.

My wife’s words turn my stomach. I try to pull out from Aoife but she waggles her head and digs me even deeper, squeezing my end in her tight little throat before gasping off me, laughing with abandon, then plunging me into her again.

I’ve never taken a life, let alone a life as bright as this. Why-

Oh stop with your primitive moralising. What do you think an Abhartach’s life is? Prove to me you’ve got the balls to live like a predator.

But why this woman?

You’re thinking with your suck-hungry cock. She has to die, trust me. She’s a deadly parasite.

Takes one to know one.

Bitchiness won’t help you.

I withdraw from Aoife’s mouth and prowl around the naked women. I should just leave while they’re still lost between each other’s legs. But my body’s taken over and kneels me before Siobhan’s face, at Aoife’s spread thighs and cunt. My body wants to explode in that cunt, and it wants the adoration of that woman, my wife. Forever. Siobhan glares up at me over her friend’s shining, engorged flesh, over the head of my rigid cock.

She laps up my length. I love you. Another lick. But don’t disappoint me.

She slides my dick back into her friend like a knife. I heft Aoife’s hips onto my kneeling lap and pull her against quick thrusts. Aoife cries out, arched across the sofa, tossed about too much to lick Siobhan properly, her mouth a silent “O.”

Siobhan stands astride our rutting to offer her clit to me instead. She opens her lips delicately with the fingers of one hand, and hooks the other behind my head.

“Eat me.” She pulls me to her cunt. Then kill her.

My mind reels as I lick and fuck. What’s happening?

Siobhan tips my face to her gaze and it’s like she’s searching inside my skull, but really she’s pouring her shit in there. If you want to live as a killer you have to learn to kill. Kill this woman. Prove you’re worthy of- “Oh!”

Aoife has sat up-still spread across my shoving lap, her knees at my shoulders-and pushed her face under Siobhan’s buttocks. Her tongue plays with mine at Siobhan’s slot while I lick my wife’s clit and Aoife her anus, reprising what we’d treated her to earlier. I feel like she’s trying to remind us who she is: “Don’t kill me, I’m the girl you doted on, remember?”

My wife is caught between our mouths, panting. She laughs at the sensation of being licked back and front, squirming between our tongues. Only now do I understand how cold a creature she really is. How can she take such pleasure from someone she wants to kill, especially when the girl’s done nothing wrong?

Aoife’s a leech. Siobhan rolls her ass against the girl’s happy lapping. She makes rich friends like me, then gets hopeful young models hooked on Xanax so she can pimp them at our wealthy parties.

Unfortunately I’d heard of this before, from the mother of a wretched girl who killed herself. The mother tried to press charges on a woman who groomed and trafficked her daughter, but it was impossible when the groomer had such wealthy and influential friends. And that groomer was not like Aoife. She was all lie, orange skinned, plastic-lipped and dull-eyed. Aoife’s natural as spring. You can’t fake that kind of honesty.

The girl wraps her arms around my neck, trapping Siobhan lovingly between us, her face buried in my wife’s arse and cunt, laughing and grunting while I fuck her. She seems so carefree and joyous. I’m no Abhartach but I have my own instincts, forged from a lifetime on the force… This girl could not do what my wife describes.

Siobhan plants a foot on my chest and kicks me onto my back, then hops across my face and squats, facing Aoife. She peers down between her legs before splodging her cunt onto my mouth. Trust me, not your cock, she mouths. When she next comes, kill her. Then I’ll feed and Turn you.

The girls ride me like a fairground ride. I lap tender flesh while grinding my cock into a slavering hole. My wife leans into Aoife, steadying each other as I lick and fuck them. They moan as they kiss. Like lovers.

I’m a cop. One of the kind ones. I don’t carry a gun. People chat to me on my beat. I can’t kill this girl. Not even if she’s evil. Not even for eternity with the love of my life. I can’t kill her.

Can I?

Aoife’s panting turns urgent and I don’t want her to come, and die, but my body is driving itself, thrusting up at her chewing hips. And my huntress wife is close to coming again too, wiping her clamouring cunt around my mouth and chin. She’s done this thousands of times, coming when she kills, she doesn’t know remorse anymore. The hunt just adds to her arousal.

“Fuck he’s good. So good.” Aoife blusters.

“Yes. Yes.” My wife’s face is buried in Aoife’s bouncing breasts.

And fuck my fucking ego all puffed up from the adoration of these women and fuck my fucking cock, because the women’s swelling orgasms have my balls clenching ready to come.

My hips falter, I groan into Siobhan.

“Don’t come,” she snaps at me.

Aoife blurts, “Fucken yes! Yes! Everyone come with me!” and rolls down hard on my thrusts. Then the woman locks and throws back her red mane and roars at the ceiling, like Siobhan, blabbering her ancient language. Or maybe that’s Siobhan. I can’t tell, mugged as I am by slobbering pussy and desperately holding back the surge of my orgasm-the rise of my immortal soul.

Fucksake, Max. Siobhan grips my cock hard, stemming my flow as if to stop Aoife’s vagina from sucking it from me.

I growl and Aoife judders out the last of her orgasm and leaps off my cock to replace cunt with mouth. She rubs me quickly into her.

Siobhan lets me go and my body quakes with the effort of holding back. My wife leaps behind Aoife who’s on all-fours and wanking me onto her curled-out tongue.

I’ll make her come again. Siobhan all but shouts in my skull. Do it now. She wriggles on her back between the girl’s knees to bury her mouth in Aoife’s cunt. She must perform some thousand-year-old oral trick because the girl immediately jolts. Her eyes roll and her tongue stiffens under my cockhead.

I’m on my feet, trying to pull away from these hungry, angry creatures, but Aoife’s latched to me, crouched on Siobhan’s mouth. She sinks over my length and takes me into her throat again. I hold her head, to push her away, but can’t, she feels too good. I want to come in her mouth. Suddenly the glam-goth rapist fills me, yanking my wife’s head onto his cock. And I’d rather do that, I’d rather fuck this girls throat and come in it, than kill her. Who thinks like this? Who the fuck am I?

Kill her. Siobhan orders, her eyes flaming from the dim between Aoife’s thighs. Now!

Fucked-up devotion has me clutching the girl’s neck.

“Hmm! Hmm!” Aoife seems to like it. What the fuck? She impales her head on me again until my entire cock is inside her and she’s licking my balls.

Choke her! Now!

I squeeze her neck. My cheeks are wet. Aoife gurgles.

No!

You want to be with me forever or not?

Not like this.

Aoife gasps off me to take one last breath. “I’m c-coming— oh my hmmff—” She gobbles me back in, moans on my cock, and her hips twitch on my wife’s supernatural mouth. Aoife squeals.

I burst.

Aoife locks to me, eyes triumphant, her forehead wrinkled under the throws of her own explosion.

Then Siobhan is kneeling beside her. A deathly seriousness descends. They slide slicked lips over my jetting head and kiss over my eruption, licking with intense, ritualistic care. I stagger. They hold me steady in an iron grip. Aoife places my cock in my wife’s mouth like a votive offering and she closes her lips around it, then closes her eyes and hums so deep it seems to come from underground.

Aoife drops to suck my balls while Siobhan draws on me and I’ve nothing left to give but still, somehow my orgasm blooms from my skin, larger than my body. Her eyes flick open. They are swelling black holes, eating my world. I cry out, and then I can’t breathe in again. My life flows from every corner and every moment, sucked into my wife, swallowed by that darkly radiant, feeding demon.

That’s it, then. I’ve disappointed her. Now I die.

The penthouse floor slams against my back. I’m empty but infinitely heavy.

QUICK!

Something soft and floral presses to my mouth. Labia? A hot nub rubs against my lifeless lips and it’s so familiar. I miss it already. Then a distant whimper, and a pulse of liquid, animal and oceanic. A woman’s cry. Ecstasy? Sobbing? Then a sloppy-sounding rub and more thick, primal liquid. So deliciously familiar. It tastes like… it tastes like life.

My tongue springs to action and laps and someone laughs, then more sloppy noises, and more elixir.

My world bursts into technicolor life. My wife is poised, splayed above me, with Aoife blurring two fingers inside her while I suckle my wife’s clit. She squeaks and comes again, drenching me, I laugh and cough.

The world is ten times brighter and ten times louder. It shimmers and clamours.

The women drop onto me, hug me, lick my lips.

“Wakey wakey sleepy head!” Siobhan strokes my cheek.

Aoife strokes my cock. “I’m so proud,” she says. “My first Turning has Turned her first. Took a thousand years but we got there didn’t we, hon?”

“Not my fault, Beast.” Siobhan shrugs. “I just never met a man I could trust till now.”

Beast?

They kiss me on each cheek. The kisses flash, shooting across my skin. Their bodies are warm in my arms, one on each side. I can feel every vein in their bodies wriggling like hot snakes against me. My wife is so tired she can hardly lift her eyelids. I suppose in some ways she’s given birth.

“Welcome to the real world.” Aoife- Beast- cuddles me.

Siobhan sniggers. “First love, meet Second love. Second love, First.” She cuddles me too. “Well done sweetheart. I needed to know you could be trusted before I Turned you. If you’d tried to take Beast’s life against your own instincts, just because of some bollocks I told you, just because you wanted immortality, I’d have killed you. Or she would’ve. But I knew you’d stay strong.” She kisses my neck. Flash. My cock bucks.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt stronger in fact. I guess I should be annoyed at being duped but life suddenly feels bright and simple. I mean, fuck, look at the size of my erection.

I stand up and gravity is puny. I take the girls with me, one in each arm. They sit on my forearms, purring.

I carry them to the bathroom.

Warning, Aoife says silently to my wife. The newly Turned are insatiably horny.

“Hmm?” Siobhan croaks, and nuzzles into me. Then she snores.

Don’t worry, Your Beast is here, lovely lady. Aoife pats my wife’s hip and winds her own hips on my side. Y’know, to help with the sleepless nights. She buries her face in my neck. Fuck. Kisses really are little pleasure bombs now, no wonder Siobhan loves oral so much.

Aoife sniggers. Just you wait. She pushes her sweet little mouth to mine. Our tongues dance.

Laughter bubbles from me. She calls you Beast?

Aye! Aoife laughs too and we can’t stop.

Our joy bounces off black marble, then out over London’s graveyard skyline. The bathwater’s still hot, and it’s steam glows. A Halloween moon has turned the world bright as day.