Coffee and Cream with Alyth

My friend Alyth sent me a text message this morning, just before dawn, saying simply, ‘I need you! Hurry!’ I noticed the message while I was having cereal, and tried to call her, home and mobile, but with no answer. By nine o’clock I still hadn’t heard from her, so I drove round to her flat just in case.

Mrs Greenwood on the first floor buzzed me in and we chatted in the stairwell for a few minutes. (Sweet lady, usually. Complained today that her two terriers had been restless all night, barking at shadows and keeping her awake.) Alyth lives above her on the second floor. I knocked, but there was no answer.

Just in case, I tried the door, and was alarmed to find it wasn’t locked. I entered the flat, closing the door behind me. ‘Alyth?’ I called out, and heard muffled shouting in response, and the squeaking of her wooden bed frame.

I found her spread-eagled on her bed, wrists and ankles handcuffed to the four corners. She was naked, and the layout of her room is such that her pussy, fully exposed, and framed in beautiful red curls, was the sight that arrested me on entering. Her inner thighs were bruised, and they and the bed beneath were stained with blood, with no obvious source, but it seemed to be dry. Similar bruises and stains adorned her neck and breasts, and overall she looked paler than the last time I saw her – it’s been quite sunny this past week.

A black dildo, of average size but quite formidable for all that, forced her jaw wide open and protruded lewdly from her mouth. It was fixed in place by a studded leather harness about her head and mouth, and was at once grotesque and profoundly erotic.

I don’t think I have ever become quite so hard quite so quickly. Alyth and I have never been more than just friends, but seeing her like that… The atmosphere in the room was almost suffocating with the musky, sweaty odour of sex, and I was feeling both aroused – and guilty for being aroused.

Alyth wasn’t aroused. She was pissed off, glaring at me with her large grey-blue eyes, and trying to talk – which had the distracting consequence of making the dildo in her mouth wave around as she moaned wordlessly behind it.

I walked round to the side of the bed and sat down to work on removing the harness, realising too late that the mattress was quite wet in places. A few mumbled complaints later, I was able to pull the thick black shaft from Alyth’s mouth, and she cried out with pain as she tried to close her jaw.

‘Those bitches!’ she rasped. ‘Fucking bitches!’

‘Apparently so.’

‘Oh shut up. I need water. Bring me water.’

‘Okay.’ I stood up.

‘And a blanket. I’m freezing.’

I laughed. ‘Is that why your nipples are sticking out like that?’

‘Does your dick have the same excuse?’ she snarled. ‘See if you can find the key to these fucking handcuffs.’

I searched the pile of sheets and blankets on the floor and found one that was cleanish, then hesitated. ‘Damn,’ I said. ‘Should have taken a photo.’

Her only response was to glare at me again. Smiling, I covered her with the blanket. On the way out of the room, I said, ‘It would have looked great on the blog…’

In the kitchen I poured a glass of water and hunted round for a straw, luckily finding a blue bendy one. There was a Post-it note on the fridge with the message ‘In Here’. Back in the bedroom, Alyth sipped thirstily at the water, but her attention was fixed firmly on the chilled wine glass in my other hand.

‘What is this?’ I asked with an air of innocence, sniffing delicately as if the clear liquid were a fine wine. It didn’t really smell of anything, although it would have been difficult to distinguish any scents in that bedroom just then.

‘You know what it is,’ she muttered, turning red. ‘Just pour it in the sink.’

‘It seems such a shame to waste it,’ I said, and lifted the glass to my lips.

‘Don’t even think about it!’ she growled. I think it’s funny that she was more embarrassed about this glass of – ambrosia? nectar? – than she had been about being discovered naked with a rubber cock thrusting out of her mouth.

I sighed mournfully, extracted the key from the bottom of the glass, and grabbed a sheet from the pile on the floor to dry off. I didn’t torture her any longer. I released her from the cuffs, and she curled into a ball, gasping from the fresh pain in her limbs.

‘So, what happened?’ I asked.

‘I’m not answering any questions until I’ve had a shower,’ she said. ‘Go make yourself coffee. I’ll join you in a few.’

‘Okay.’

I put the kettle on then popped down to my car to retrieve my iPad. For the past hour I’ve been sitting in her kitchen, sipping coffee, and writing about the morning’s entertainment – and have, even now, reached this very sentence…

*

I carefully timed a fresh pot of filter coffee for Alyth’s emergence into the kitchen. She was wearing the flowery green silk yukata that I love and that matches her fiery hair so well. She sat down opposite me and absorbed herself in the rich aroma. Grabbing the iPad suddenly, she read through the first half of this post. ‘You’re such a pervert,’ she said with a touch of her usual teasing humour.

I smiled back. ‘Uh huh. So, tell me about the “fucking bitches”.’

‘I was getting ready for bed last night,’ she began, ‘when there was a knock on the door. It was Tina.’

‘Tina! She’s back?’ Tina’s mysterious disappearance a few months ago has caused quite some concern.

‘Tina, yes, but I don’t know that she’s back, exactly. Anyway, I couldn’t get her into the flat fast enough. I was hugging her, crying, asking a hundred questions, but she wasn’t interested in talking, only in kissing me, caressing me, I couldn’t stop her, couldn’t even slow her down. My desire to do so gradually gave way to my hunger for her – her lips against my neck were like liquid fire, melting away my resistance. Not once in all the time we were together had I felt such naked need for her. And she suddenly seemed beautiful in a way I had never noticed before, an indefinable something that made me ache to touch her.

‘She pushed my thighs apart and knelt between my legs, and attacked my pussy with such passion, her tongue teasing me, her lips sucking harshly at my clit. She started finger-fucking me, and just as I came in her mouth, a pair of arms grabbed my breasts from behind, grabbing and squeezing my nipples painfully, and my eyes were covered suddenly by a cascade of blonde hair as Lily bent down to kiss my neck, biting gently with her sharp teeth. I lost all control at that point, caught between the pleasure of my body and the terror of my mind.’

Alyth paused for breath. I could see wild excitement simmering in her eyes as she thought about the past night’s activities.

‘So,’ I said. ‘Tina and Lily.’

‘Yes. As I lay on the sofa, recovering from my climax, I watched them kissing with the tenderness of lovers, and understood why Tina looked different. “You’re a vampire,” I said. Her hands and lips had been unusually cool, but foolishly I’d just assumed that it was colder outside than I’d thought.

‘“Yes,” she said, “and I have you to thank.” She grinned happily and grabbed Lily to kiss her quickly. “And that’s why we’re here tonight, Alyth. To thank you.”

‘At which point, Lily grabbed me by my hair and pulled me onto the floor. “On your knees, witch,” she ordered. Lily says “witch” like it’s a swear word. She says “witch” the way other people say “bitch”. And it was very clear that their idea of thanking me was to make me their bitch for the night.

‘And I can’t say I didn’t love every minute of it.’

About Frank

A Sci-Fi & Fantasy author and lyrical poet with a mild obsession for vampires, succubi, goddesses and Supergirl.
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