If you are new to my stories then they are somewhat of an acquired taste. I suggest read “Betty” or “October River Walk” before you start this one since it is a little bit longer and requires a little more investment. This one is hard, strictly adult only and quite frankly pretty horrific;- enjoy.
1
I know it is supposed to be a joy-filled, happy, celebratory occasion but all I can remember is my stomach turning when Mark asked me to be his best man. Even though I love the guy dearly; we have known each other since kindergarten and his perfectly matched fiancée, Cath, since middle school, I simply detest public speaking, detailed planning and most of all bachelor parties.
I was obvious something was up last May when he invited a few of the old gang for a beer in the Port Street, a pretty upmarket pub in the middle of town. He sat us down with a round of pints and a couple of chasers to take the edge off. Then he dropped it.
“Lads, I've got some good news. Me and Cath's gonna get hitched”.
“What's the good news then?' leant in Dom to a round of chuckles.
“The good news, my little furry friend, is that we are going drinking, and that Chris is going to organise it”, finished Mark, looking up at me. “If you're up to it Chris then the job's yours”.
I grinned, shook his hand and we all knocked back the drinks, all the while my heart doing loops at the thought of performing in front of Cath's forever moaning mum and Mark's humourless, steel spectacled step-father.
Well, over the next two weeks, I took the bull by the horns, started canvassing the happy couple for any jobs they wanted to hand off (happily not many) and quizzing the lads for ideas for a stag-do destination. There were the usual London, Brighton, Scarborough lists as well as a few fantastical ones from a few of Mark's apparently pretty well-off Southern pals, Reykjavik, New York. The one that seemed to fit the best came from fuzzy little Dom.
He reminded me of a dirty little story from years back, whilst we had all still been living at home. We had found Mark's porn stash and then hidden it all around his mum's house. At the top of the pile had been a VHS of Gothic porn, all spider's webs, eye shadow and draped black veils. We hid the dirty books behind the cereal bowls for his mum to find. The video we kept back, preferring to both protect her from the banality of her teenage son but also to give Mark a few weeks to sweat and turn over the house looking for it. Dom's exact suggestion was that we should go to Transylvania to give Mark one last shot at 'Missis Dracula'.
It was sealed, I convened the local lads back to the Port Street exactly a fortnight after the last session and laid out the plans. There were direct flights from Manchester down to Sofia, Bulgaria which was about as close to Carpathia as the budget airlines flew. I had found a list of pubs, a guy who would take us out in a van to shoot Kalashnikovs in a field and even a pretty dirty looking gothic strip club for which I had printed out flyers. I presented it all to Mark over a pint, along with a quickly nailed together cross and a few bulbs of garlic. He took it all in excellent humour.
It came round pretty quickly, one weekend in mid-July, the five of us found ourselves sitting at the giant pub in departures, waiting for the late afternoon flight down to Romania. It seemed a funny affliction of early middle age that half way through the second pint, the Rough Guides and the printed out wikis of the Balkan nations popped out all round the table. I think all of us could feel the excitement creeping up inside, it had probably been 10 years for most of us since we'd been on a proper lads weekend away. A few of the guys, Steve and Karl had families now, Mark was clearly well on his way and it was only Dom & I left to really settle down.
The flight was happily uneventful, only a few hours in the end. We didn't meet the two guys coming in from London, their flight was to land much later. Apparently their respective work schedules too flattering to be able to provide a few hours off early on a Friday afternoon. It was not long and the five of us found the car I had booked pretty easily just outside arrivals. We all sat solemnly in the back of an ancient Mercedes as it pulled out of the suburban sprawl where the Sofia airport is and headed towards what was clearly a more down-town area where we had booked a hotel. The main streets were nothing like that which I had imagined of some ex-Soviet, 2nd-World war-torn city, instead the pubs and clubs looked full, new and inviting. Lots of neon signs and black polished counter tops. The people looked anything but poor, the guys seemingly wearing summer suits and pretty much every girl tottering around in heels and a little thigh length figure hugging black number. To be honest, it was a hell of a lot nicer than the place from which we had just come.
As we spilled out on to the cobbled street in front of our hotel, we were alive with chatter. None of us could wait to join what felt like a warm summer party evening in a young Mediterranean atmosphere. The hotel was 'quaint' in a nice way. It reminded me of an old Parisian bistro-hotel I had stayed in as a student. The reception desk was a rounded wooden counter squashed into a corner that divided one way into a narrow rickety wooden staircase and the other way into an open plan bar stacked full (I think of Absinthes, but I'm not sure). The portly barman/owner/hotelier who glanced at our passports, handed over the keys and ushered us up to our rooms seemed jolly enough although there was clearly not an awful lot of meaningful communication save a few thumbs-ups and big tit mimes as Dom went through.
Dom and I had planned to share a room, as had Karl and Steve. Mark had been allocated his own room out of the kitty as the man of honour and the two yet-to-arrive Londoners Todd and John had both elected to pay for a room for themselves. We ran up to dump our bags in what was a very basic room, one window, two beds and an ancient porcelain sink. There was a mild complaint from Dom as I explained that I would hold the only key on account of him being a liability but in the end he did take the point.
Ten minutes later we were back into our spiritual home. There was something called the Red Rock pub not 30 meters from our hotel and despite a massive array of vaporous spirits and cocktails we were seated at a friendly round wooden table with five pints and five cheap whisky chasers 'to take the edge off'. We all raised our glasses to Mark and so the night began.
Ten minutes later and we were well into the second rounds. Karl and Steve had leant off to a corner of the table to discuss the virtues of fatherhood, Mark and I were happy to have arrived and were leaning back enjoying the drink and the plans for both dinner and the next day and Dom, ..well Dom had already sidled back to the bar where he had spotted a couple of really pretty dark haired girls. The girls I guess were younger than us, mid twenties maybe, both dressed for a night out. Both had seemingly quite thin faces, very angular jaws and noses, both very pretty indeed. They wore short, tight cut, figure hugging lycra black dresses, long svelte legs ending in tall Staccato heels. How Dom does it, I don't know, he is a great guy to watch, happy to be known for and happy to play up to his reputation of being an utter liability.
Shortly he stumbled back over, girls in tow, one of them carrying a new tray of drinks. He pointed towards Mark and the first one sauntered over and sat on his thigh facing him, a delicate arm looping around his shoulders and brushing against my arm. I smiled a hello across at her. Her friend placed the drinks on the table, this time some clear shot, one each for everyone as well as either one for each of the girls or three for Mark. The second girl then took the other one of Mark's thighs, next to me, leaning with an arm on my shoulder. Her musky scent and cool soft skin washed over me as she sat down and leant back.
Mark flushed a little with embarrassment as the girls picked up their drinks in a salute. We all did likewise, one of them proposed a toast in heavily accented English.
“We wish you good wedding”. Everyone murmured agreement editing to good marriage. The she added “and good fuck always”, which drew a little cheer as she downed her drink with a little Slavic screech. I couldn't help but look up at her long aquiline neck as she tilted her head back and downed it in one gulp. It finished in her deep v-cut black dress which in turn just covered her beautifully rounded deep cleavage. She did have wonderful boobs, her nipples jutting upwards against the sheer fabric.
I lingered a little bit too long and she caught me staring at her chest as she put her glass down. I looked away but too slowly and she put out her hand to catch my chin in it. Strong wiry fingers gripped my cheeks, burning olive green eyes trapped mine. “You are bad man. You buy drink now”.
I laughed with relief as she let me off. I got up and went over to the bar and she followed me. The barman looked up and she shot something in quick guttural Bulgarian at him. Another seven drinks quickly appeared. She hopped up on the bar stool next to me. “Now you good man”, brushing my cheek with the soft back of her hand and leaning in close enough that I could feel her warm breath across my face tinged with her thick perfume.
Quickly and deliberately she drew my gaze down as her hands dropped to grip the front of her skirt. She pulled it up just for an instant. I got a flash of the rest of her gorgeous thighs leading up to a beautifully bald pussy between her legs, her inner lips just poking out and resting on the leather of the stool. Maybe some sort of piercing, tattoo or similar but it was a bit too quick to tell. I choked back a startled gasp. She pulled the hem of her skirt back down she rested the flat of her cool hand on my cheek again and said softly, “Now you bad man again”. With that she picked up the tray and strutted back over to the table, glancing back to make sure I was watching her deliberately swaying behind as she went.
The barman shouted over the hubbub at me some price, I didn't get it really so he wrote it on a beer mat. Thirty? ..that seemed quite a lot more than I had been expecting, but to be honest I hadn't really got the hang of the money yet and I wanted to follow back over to the table as quickly as possible so I just gave him the notes and whirled about.
As I got back over to the table, the rest were waiting for me, shots primed in front of each of them. Dom popped out a little bag from his pocket that I recognised straight away. He popped out little blue tablets and put them next to each of the drinks.
“Ah no way, you are a fucking idiot Dom”, I started. As I did, he picked up his pill and swallowed it, following with the shot.
“Seriously, come on”, I tried to continue as both Karl and Steve picked theirs up, “don't be daft, you guys are married”.
“To old times”, toasted Karl as he swallowed his down and finished the shot, “yeh, one last night”, Steve copied him.
I couldn't believe what was happening, as a group we used to do this sort of stuff but it had been more than ten years. As best man, it was pretty clear the whole thing was about to unravel so I leant over and flicked the little pills in front of Pete and I across the room.
“Ah fuck off”, shouted Dom as he scooted away on to hand and knees under the next table in pursuit. Pete tipped his shot glass as me and winked a thanks of having dug him out of it.
I saw out of the corner of my eye one of the girls pick up the last two little pills and stick them down her bra before toasting with the other one and drinking the shot. Smart girl, I assumed she would either sell it later or at the very least watch what was going to happen to us before she swallowed it.
What did happen to be honest wasn't very pretty. The shots turned into longer drinks for the next few rounds. The girls got up and left us, more interested by another fresh group of tourists who were in the process of getting conned into exorbitantly priced shots and we slowly watched Dom, Kyle and Steve depart this realm of consciousness. At some point, the barman refused to serve us any more which was probably reasonable because at least one of the others had been sick under the table.
We staggered out in to the cold night air, half carrying Kyle and Steve. Both opted for an early bed, Pete and I helping them to the hotel entrance way and depositing them on the step outside. As we did so, we lost sight of Dom who had wandered off. Supposedly to find a club. True to form, he had been a liability and given that he had derailed the night so succinctly, I decided that I couldn't be bothered to go and make sure he was ok.
So this is how it ended up then, with Pete and I looking at each other, shaking our heads and agreeing to get a last drink over a bar across the road, in which we had not yet shown our faces.
The next bar was a much more low-key one, a heavy velvet curtain ran behind the door as we pushed our way in, keeping the night air out. Inside it was pretty dark, a few little tables were occupied by couples chatting, a few were free. We opted to sit on a couple of stools at the bar, greeting the barman who looked up from his glass polishing and seemed happy to have the interaction. We got a couple of small beers, this time only paying a few Levs and settled propped down against the varnished wood.
We toasted each other again and agreed to revive the night. Pete's favourite suggestion was that we should go back to the first bar and try to pick up the two girls. It sounded as though he had had a similar experience to me with the one who had mostly sat on his knee. I was a little bit unsure about the two of them and so I countered with the idea of finding somewhere new with new girls.
It was then that I remembered the folded up flyer in my back pocket. I pulled it out and unfolded it in front of Pete.
“That's it! Vampire strip club young man”, I clapped him on the back. He laughed and re-read the Gothic text which dripped blood over a grave stone around which poked a slinky leg. Pete waved the barman over and asked what he thought of the place.
“Ah this is for tourists”, he laughed back. “You lose all money and you get nothing. I write down address good club for girls”.
“We want vampire girls”, I shouted over the bar as he wandered off to find a pen and a beer mat. He shot me an angry glance and shook his head.
When he came back, he poured two more beers for us and one for himself and then leant in close. He passed us a beer mat with the name of a club and I guess a street written on it and then he gestured me in closer with a beckoning finger and spoke in a hushed voice.
“In Sofia, vampire no joke”, he whispered. “Is real thing, but not what you think”. The two of us politely sipped at our beers and humoured him. “Where you think vampire legend come from? Piotre tell you”.
“It said that there peoples who live in Romanian mountains who drink blood to make strong.” “There no magic, it just tradition”. “You know how Romanian mountain girl like take blood?”
He looked up at us. I have to admit that by now we were creasing a little bit, trying to cover it so as not to offend him.
“Hungry girl best way to take blood, she take man, have love to him. She make hard him and then just as he most happy she bite.” “She have very sharp teeth, it like blood sausage”. At this point the two of us exploded with laughter, my stool fell out from underneath me and Pete was holding on to the bar.
“Ah stupid American”, chided Piotre as he picked up his towel and marched down the other end of the bar.
The two of us regained our places at the bar, steadied ourselves and clinked glasses again.
“Forgive him”, came a female voice from the very end of the bar. “There are many very old men in this part of the World who cling to old tales”.
We both turned to a woman that we had not previously noticed sitting just a few places away. To say she was stunning is an understatement. She had the full dark Mediterranean-green eyes of the local Romany, a dark tanned-olive complexion, with thick red painted lips. Her face was framed by glossy, slightly curly black hair that fell down over her bare shoulders and framed her ample bust.
The two of us sat silent, slightly shocked as she held us in her gaze. She lifted a drink with a black straw jutting out of it to her black-red lips. We both sat spellbound as she received it in to her beautiful mouth, twisting her tongue around it as she did. She broke into a smile, sensing her temporary hold over us and then stoop up, clutching her drink and sauntered over. As she swayed towards us we were both mesmerised by a vision of seduction. Her long dark hair cascaded down over her tanned shoulders, bare save for thin straps holding up a deep maroon velvet dress. The bust was cut low and was tight enough that her smooth boobs seemed to lead as she came, hard nipples jutted, brushing the rim of her glass as she came. The dress split at her toned waist, and parted to allow her long legs to stride out in their high heels towards us.
The woman commanded such an air that the two of us stood up from our stools as she approached, almost involuntarily. I remember her heady perfume hitting me and being locked into her deep-green eyes as she stopped in front of us.
“Lonela”, she purred in an almost Italian accent, holding out her hand to Pete who took it without looking away from her face, as fixed as I was.
“Pete”, he stammered.
“Chris”, I volunteered.
She broke the tension, leaning her head back and emitting a silvery laugh as she let go of my hand. “You British are always so formal, relax, welcome to Sofia”.
She pulled up one of the stools and leant against it, asking us about why we had come here and congratulating Pete on his impending nuptials. A round or two of wine or beer followed and we relaxed in the company of Lonela, who despite a slight clip to her accent, had near perfect English and was the perfect hostess being extremely well travelled but also patient enough to explain local interests. As she talked, I think we both fell fell for her a little bit. I could not help but watch the way her full red lips moved, beautifully forming English words with foreign vowels, often pinning her straw in the corner of her mouth mid-sentence without interruption. I sensed she knew I was fixed, every now and then smiling slightly wider as she talked to Pete but flicking a glance to me out of the corner of her green eyes.
At last she put down an empty glass and then asked us if we were ready to go. We were both slightly caught aback, not knowing where she meant.
“Well to watch beautiful girls dance of course”, she purred.
We both stopped, caught and embarrassed like naughty school boys.
“I know a place that you will both very much enjoy”, she finished as she stroked Pete's cheek. We both watched her as she strode off to get her coat. A quick little hi-five passed between the two of us behind her back, we were indeed naughty school boys and this was going to be great.
As she disappeared round the corner, Piotre the barman who had been in a huff made a line for us down the bar, ushering us in close to him.
“I serious, Piotre tell you. Must not be love by beautiful womens tonight and if you do then you must to put dick in correct hole, it not have teeth.”
I held back a snort of laughter seeing that he looked deathly earnest as he spat it out, his hands shaking, eyes watering. Then he jumped back, Lonela had some how got her coat on and was behind us. She shouted something quick and guttural and Slavic at him, the hard edge of Russian banning any hint of the beautiful Mediterranean accent in her native tongue. Piotre winced and skipped back, retreating quickly down the bar.
Lonela led us out of the bar into the cold night air. She seemed to simply raise her hand on the side-walk and a long black limo pulled up almost instantly. A quick exchange with the driver made me think that it was in fact probably her own one. The three of us got into the back and sat facing each other in a circle on big comfy black leather seats. I pulled out Piotre's scribbled beer mat and proffered it to her as a suggested address as she chatted to the driver. She smiled back at me, the hardness having now gone again from her voice and returned the mat, telling me that she knew a place that we would like much better.
“In fact it is my place”.
Pete and I looked at each other, the creeping realisation that we had just jumped in a car we didn't know with a woman who had just picked us up.
“Your place? I thought we were going to a club?” I asked.
“Oh we are, I run a place down town, you are really going to like it. We will find a perfect girl for Peter's last night”, she responded, smiling at me and locking me again in her beautiful green eyes. It was the first time she had really smiled properly and there was something about her glimmering white teeth punctuating her red-black lips that caught me, a little bit like a startled prey animal. Maybe it was a trick of the flickering light in the back of the car but her teeth looked suddenly looked quite sharp and angular, maybe slightly serrated. I looked away quickly so as not to stare too long at our gracious hostess, assuming that probably the truth was somewhere between an optical illusion and the result of wayward Bulgarian dentistry. The limo ride was great, we both sat back, watching the city lights whizz past us, wondering how we had stumbled upon such immense good luck.
The car slowed and pulled to the curve in what looked like a pretty quiet black, old cobbled street. There were no bars in this district and only closed-up shop fronts. No people on the side-walks and no other traffic. The only thing that was clearly going on was a big dark, old rounded oak door with two burning tar torches mounted on either side of it. Lonela stepped in between Pete and I, hooking her arms inside ours and strode us up to the door. A little slat in an upper panel of the door slid back, spilling light out on to the street as an eye peered our at us. The slat snapped shut and the door opened. The three of us stepped through it and on to the top of a little three stepped marble entrance platform.
Lonela whispered that she hoped we would enjoy it, this was her place. The sight that greeted us reminded me more of a high class cocktail bar than a strip club. From the stairway upon which we stood, we looked out over a low-lit room, padded with velvet and leather sofas and chairs dotted around small tables. There was a bar in the corner, only really up-lit through the giant number of exotic garish coloured bottles behind it. There was a little raised dance stage in the middle of the room with a pole in the centre and was the only give away that this was anything but a normal bar. There were a few other customers but not many, I guessed it was getting late. A few groups of very smart looking business men in suits were sitting around tables with some absolutely gorgeous girls. One or two apparently engaging in some lively debate, others talking in more hushed tones. There were a few waitresses walking around with trays of drinks or standing open for orders and there were even a few women sitting just apparently enjoying long drinks.
Lonela led us over to the bar, finding ample space along it.
“Let me offer you both a drink”, she sat down and gestured to the bar man who brought over three glasses of red wine. We clinked glasses and again toasted Pete's wedding.
“Now, let me find you some entertainment Mr Groom”, she smiled over at Pete.
As she did so, she looked over at a young blonde girl who had been standing with a tray in the corner. The blonde put down her tray, a smile breaking out across her think pink lips in her porcelain white face as she strode over.
“This is Marija”, she introduced, taking the girl by the hand who laughed and did a little pirouette as she came in. Pete took her hand, proffering a hello. Marija clearly didn't really speak any English but waved a hello and extended her smile nonetheless. Pete was clearly impressed as Marija sidled into him. Her low-cut black tight black cocktail dress almost spilled out her ample creamy boobs, the edge of a nipple just poking above the v-line as she wrapped Pete's hand around her waist. She pulled the flat of Pete's hand down below the line of her skirt on to her beautifully rounded behind. As she pulled it back up, it lifted her skirt to flash a wonderfully black thonged bum and I looked away, making the girls laugh.
Another girl appeared, a much taller tattooed dark haired, very white skinned lady with very high angular face. She linked arms with Marija while staring at Pete.
“This is Daniela”, introduced Lonela, while looping her own arm around my waist.
I have to admit that Daniela scared me a little. She leant in and grasped Marija's face and forced a deep kiss on the shorter girl. Pete who was almost caught between the two gasped and then laughed at himself.
“Now the entertainment”, Lonela announced and the two girls dragged Pete across the dance floor to some private area. Pete grinned, winked and gave me the thumbs up as he went.
Lonela and I left at the bar turned back to our wine glasses.
“Lonela, how much does this cost?” I started, happy that Pete was clearly about to have a great time but becoming a little concerned that we had not really agreed business terms.
“Oh do not worry, I am not here to take your money”, she responded picking up her glass and clinking it against mine.
“This is a place of pleasure only”.
She finished her wine in a single gulp and then turned back to face me, “come now it is time for some entertainment for you”.
She led me across the bar area and out into a passage off which branched a few rooms. As we passed a door she stopped to face me, motioning silence by touching her finger to her lips. She drew back a small picture covering a hole in the wall and motioned for me to look through into the room. I gasped as I saw Pete lying naked, out flat on what looked like a long leather bench. The shorter, blonde girl was straddling his head, rubbing her pussy in circles over his face. The tall, tattooed girl was just behind her and I saw her hitch up her dress, straddle the occupied Pete and ease herself down on to him. I saw him buck up a little as she did it , only to get a further face full of pussy.
I turned with a grin to Lonela who kissed me quickly and replaced the picture. “Did he look happy?” she whispered rhetorically as she turned to continue down the corridor. He certainly did I thought to myself.
As we continued down the passage, the lights dimmed and the mild hubbub of the bar softened away. As I walked behind her, I couldn't help but let my eyes drift down her body. Her deep red velvet dress was largely backless showing off a long tanned back that disappeared into fabric folds just above the jut of her beautifully rounded swaying bum. She glanced back and caught me looking, letting her tinkling glass like laugh escape as she pulled me through a doorway and into a room. She danced, spinning around behind me locking what looked like a big steel vaulted door.
“Now we are in private. There are no cameras and the door is locked from the inside, Bulgarian ways are different from your English ways.”
She span around me again, holding my eye contact, her head immobile with the turn like a ballet dancer. She pulled me deeper into the dark room which seemed to be thickly decorated with ornate hanging silks, so dense that they effectively curtained off any area more than a few feet in front of my face. I followed by the pull of her hand, but the leading girl now obscured from sight by the soft drapes.
Presently we found ourselves in something like an inner chamber. Lonela pushed me gently down on what seemed to be a low futon or giant seat shaped cushion. I sank backwards and stared up at her standing in the soft glow of some veiled bulb behind me. She was a vision to behold, running up from her patent high heeled shoes her long shapely brown legs disappearing into the split of her skirt. She bent down and smoothed my cheek before spinning out through a cloud of drapes out of sight.
A soft, low jazz number with a deep base started up in the background, perfectly matched to the decadent Arabian tent-like atmosphere of the room. I fancied that there was some sort of scented smoke started to be pumped in, what little clarity of vision starting to become enveloped in it and some heady sweet wooded scent filled my nostrils.
Unexpectedly, Lonela drifted silently out from one of the silks hanging behind me, grazing her hand across my shoulder and up, across my face as she did. She had changed from her dress into what looked like a very long red silk kimono and a floating silk cape that followed her. She span in front of me, silk skirts spiralling out as she did. As she span she writhed and twisted her body, often covered in silk but stopping with pauses through which she revealed her face or a bent over view down to her chest. Girl and silk at times span so fast that it was hard to know which way up she was. I laid back and enjoyed the show as she crept closer to me.
Lonela straddled my stretched out ankles, facing away from me and sat down on my thighs. I felt the full weight of her body lean and twist back into me, the smooth of her lips as they brushed my neck, arching herself over backwards. Then she leant forwards and quickly, undid and pulled me out of my shoes, socks and trousers. I started to protest but she span round to face me, a whirl of dark lipstick and silk and put her finger to my lips.
“Bulgarian ways are not English ways”, as she unbuttoned and removed my shirt.
The room was warm and inviting, it was comfortable sitting there in nothing but boxer shorts. The adrenaline pumped through my veins as this was not really something I had planned on. Back home lap dancing clubs at most mean that you sit awkwardly in your jeans while a naked dancer gyrates on you, never would you end up half naked yourself.
Lonela resumed her dance. Dark silks span out from her at all angles, little flashes of tanned flesh here and there but only for a moment. One moment she was a few feet away, the next she would be standing over me. Every now and then she would stop dead, ever so close to my face but entirely cloaked in silk. Facing away she bent over all the way to the floor allowing me to admire the full contour of her rounded bum in my face, the outline of her full pussy clinging to the slightly diaphanous silk chif. Slowly she progressed to touching me, little runs of her hands, boobs, soft cheeks up my legs, across my chest and my face. Always the silks obscuring quite what was going on. I could feel the adrenaline rising and the blood pumping around me with electric life. The desire for her to touch me more and more becoming almost unbearable.
I became rock hard and my cock strained to escape the confines of my boxers. At some point she passed over my body and I felt her warm tongue lick its way up my thigh and over my boxer fabric covered member. The pleasure and the desire immense, I could not see her do it but I fancied that I heard her sharp front teeth chop together as she nipped off the constraining button, her tongue gently lapping as my dick sprang forth through the fly and sending an electric shock through me. She let out a little giggle.
More the silks span, more her body was a whirling blur. I could not see whether she was standing on hands or feet, it was often all fours. More the hands gently caressed my body and more she lapped gently as she would pass my cock. Every now and then a pause and a hard pointed brown nipple would appear out of a fold of silk for the attention of my lips, only to be drawn over my face and disappear back into the robes. At some point in the half light, I saw just her deep red-black ruby lips appear out of a chink of silk and she stopped to kiss me full on the lips before licking deeply across my cheek. I don't know if she meant it but as she did, I saw again the full extent of how sharp her front few teeth were. The excitement and adrenaline a heady mix as she dipped down behind my ear and ran her tongue down my neck. I'm not sure if I imagined it but I thought I could hear her licking and churning her tongue against her teeth, purring slightly, like and animal about to feed.
Again a blur of silk covered limbs and then I guess what was a handstand that ended in her legs wrapping around my neck, the silk disappearing back just enough for me to see her beautifully bald soft brown pussy, just parting in a line of moisture for me. I instinctively ran my tongue up its length, tasting and breathing in her deep musky aromas.
As soon as I had finished my taste, she was off and whirling again. Again she came back and the legs and soft brown lower lips came towards me once more out of a silk parting. I went to lick but they were not quite close enough so I brought a hand to run a finger down her. As I did so, I felt another warm wet set of lips and maybe a tongue just twist around the head of my cock. In ecstasy I peeled back a perfect lip with a finger while simultaneously enjoying the moist gyrations over my dick, just waiting to be sucked in. My finger as it peeled back a lip found a hard pointed row of teeth, just opening to let me in. An immediate bolt of adrenaline in confusion as the guess that she was the other way up to that which I had expected hit me. The teeth in front of me gently opened and closed in front of me, lightly trapping and then releasing my finger between their sharp points. Before I reacted, again she span off me in a whirl of silks leaving me confused but hard and desperate for her next contact.
It seemed crazy at the time but I couldn't put the barman's warning about getting your dick bitten off out of my head. At the same time, every sinew of my being wanted to taste her and to be inside her. As if reading my mind, she whirled in front of me one final time and dropped her veils. She stood resplendent, straddling over me in nothing but heels. Then she sat down quickly on my lap, taking my full length into her hot wet pussy in one go. The sensation was exquisite, my cock was alive inside as her lava hot inner walls gripped tightly round me and slipped freely down. Her beautiful big, brown, hard nipples poked deftly into my chest.
She giggled and in a breathy murmur asked, “do you remember your warning? Well now I am hungry for you.”
She leant back and ground herself down against me in what was evidently hormonal ecstasy, tilting her head back and letting out an what was somewhere between a shout and a growl. As she did, the half light caught her open mouth, seemingly now filled with deadly serrated teeth. An otherworldly moan continued to escape from between her beautiful lips but all the while my member finding ecstasy in her hot, tight pussy.
Something in me flipped and in a moment of self preservation, I threw her off, grabbed my trousers and ran for the door. I heard her yelp “hey” behind me as I disappeared through the hanging veils.
Thankfully the heavy door unlatched and opened easily. I sprinted through to the club bar area. Pete was back by the bar, still accompanied by the two girls he had been gifted earlier. He looked relaxed and a giant grin spread across his face as he saw his now half-naked shoeless best man running towards him.
“Pete come on, lets go”, I shouted. The rest of the clientèle watching bemused, not reacting.
Pete sensed the urgency, dropped his drink on the bar and followed me out into the cold night air as we skipped up the stairs.
“Fuck man, what's up”, he panted as we finally stopped our jog arriving at the corner at the end of the street. “I guess we are not paying then right?” he continued.
I laughed back, the idiocy of having just dropped the most beautiful girl I'd ever met mid-fuck because of having thought her one of the un-dead washing over me immediately. Skipping on the cheque was clearly a much better excuse.
“Yep, that's it man, they were going to rip us off”, I gave back.
We managed to hail a cab and get ourselves back to the hotel. As we got there, I realised that I'd dropped my wallet in my panicked exit from the club so Pete had to pay. I put it out of my mind, I was just happy to be back to the relative safety of the known hostel and had full intention of just sleeping off everything that had gone on.
The two of us bundled through the hotel doorway and made our way down the wooden hall. As we rounded the bottom of the stairs, we heard British voices from the bar. Pete overtook me to slap two crisp shirted Londoners on the back.
He turned to me and introduced them as the last two in the party who had just come in on the London flight. I don't remember much of the conversation. They had been delayed, and seemed determined to describe everything from the taxi ride, to the hotel to the dinner which they had just finished as 'ghastly'. It sounded as through they had tried to rouse the others who had clearly remained as out out of it as when we had left them. They pointed out that I looked a mess, which was true as I stood there in bare feet and only Pete's jacket around my shoulders. I remember getting jeered as a 'lightweight Northern monkey' as I made my excuses and left the three of them sitting there, Pete in full flow over the story of his interlude with the two girls.
2
My head felt like there was a building site in it when I woke up the next morning. Sun was streaming through the one little window and assaulting my senses. Dom had been sick on the floor between our beds but seemed to still be happily sleeping on.
I showered and stumbled out across what had become a fresh lively cobbled street in the clear crisp morning air. There was no sight of any of the rest of the gang so I sat and got a coffee in a pavement café across from our hotel. I had managed to steal just enough change from Dom's pukey night stand to cover it.
Recollections from the night before washed over me and I tried to shut them out. I had never felt like such an idiot;- having run away from the most beautiful girl I had ever met while in in mid session and having left my wallet and clothes behind on top of it. I started to call the card companies to cancel them all.
The coffee restored me to my usual self. With all the jollity of the penniless hobo that I had become, I staggered back in to the hotel to wake up the rest of the gang. As I passed the desk, the cheerful owner shouted to ask me if I was indeed Mr Miller (I am). I went back to him and he passed me a note which I summarily returned to him and asked him to translate to English.
“We have taken a phone message which say that someone have found your wallet and you may come to collect”. He showed me an address that was scribbled down. With a little bit of hand waving and a few more scribbled directions, I learnt that it was certainly not the address of the club we had been on last night and in fact it was somewhere out in the country. The hotelier stuck the address into a map on the reception computer and declared that I was to get to it by getting a bus to an out of town Tescos of all things.
As I passed the bar to leave again, I saw three things, one was the pair of Londoners, now tucking in to their breakfast, the second was Dom, now struggling downstairs, a little bit of sick still clinging to his shirt and the third was a massive Bulgarian guy with a Kalashnikov Tours t-shirt heading in to the hotel. Likely a pick up for the shooting event we had booked for the day.
Given the lack of Pete and my mild reluctance to get between the posh Londoners, the manky Manc and the big Slav with guns, I thought it would probably be easiest just to carry on out and find my wallet myself before anyone else was any the wiser. I made another little stop at Dom's night stand to grab the remainder of his spare change and the few loose notes he had in his wallet and then headed out to the central bus station. I joined quite a long queue of ancient old ladies on a pretty ancient old steel bus out towards Tescos.
It was a beautiful morning and it was not long before the bus had left the city proper and we were streaming through what looked like quite lush farmland. I spotted wheat, corn, barley and even a few hills with winding vineyards. It was certainly not the impoverished country I had in my mind before we had come. The sun was streaming in the window and I could not have felt more dumb about what had happened the night before. I was certainly considering whether I could convince the rest of the group to help me find the club again in the hope I might have another shot at the beautiful Lonela.
After what must have been forty minutes or so of pleasant country driving, the big supermarket loomed out of nowhere, apparently just in the middle of a load of fields. The bus stopped and the old ladies and I got off. I followed the hastily drawn directions on my bit of paper from the hotel and found a path that ran round the back of the shop. From there I headed through the middle of a beautiful corn field. The last of the morning mist had burned off and the sun was now lazing through a few last whispy clouds. The ripe heads of corn swayed gently in a wholly pleasant breeze.
After a good half hour stride through the fields and up a slight hill, the supermarket was not much more than a big grey dot behind me and I was really pushing in to what seemed like endless farmland. The path was a good one however and there had been no dubious turn off choices so I was confident in my direction. Almost as quickly I found myself on a deserted dirt track that led me up to the end of a grandiose driveway. A pair of giant pillars and a wrought iron gate both blocked and ended my path. An old iron bike leant against the gate, it looked as though it had not been used in a long time and it made me wonder if the gates were more rusted than locked shut..
I double checked my scribbled bit of notepaper, knowing that there was no more information save the direction of the path. This was the only property in sight for miles around. There was a button on the gate post so I tried it. Happily it sounded like it was linked to a working buzzer. It was answered quickly with an impenetrable Bulgarian sentence. I stammered a hello and tried to convey my name. There was no response but the gate buzzed open.
The driveway was modern and gravelled, running through an immaculately manicured garden. The house itself was raised over a double garage and I had to climb up a small marbled staircase to get to the front door. Before I knocked, I turned to have a look at the view across the fields. It was beautiful, we were really in the middle of nowhere, the only blight on otherwise uninhabited farmland was the big supermarket a few miles away.
I clanged a big iron knocker on the door. After a few moments it opened and there stood Lonela. My heart did a little skip as the memory of the night before flooded back. Her long dark hair shone in the sunlight and she peered out at me with her green eyes from underneath it. She was dressed in a short summer blue dress. White piping cupped her gorgeous bust and threaded down to end just around her knees. It was a wholly different experience to last time I had seen her.
She smiled at me and said that she had wondered if she would see me again. “Come on in, you are just in time for lunch”, a pause and then, “if you are brave enough”. She wheeled away from me and laughed and led me in through the hall way.
I followed her though what was a shockingly spacious, modern, open plan house for a pole dancer although perhaps not for a night club owner. She sat me down on a stool at a breakfast bar in the kitchen and got out a couple of plates followed by some breads, meats and cheeses. Having not really eaten since we had arrived the day before, I was absolutely starving and so tucked in greedily. She opened a really nice bottle of cold white wine which wonderfully finished off the last of any hangover I had been carrying.
We chatted and she laughed and put me at ease. I apologised profusely for my behaviour the previous evening and she seemed to take it all in her stride. I admit that as she talked and ate, I was again transfixed to her deep red lips. I sense she knew I was watching her has she gently bit through little bits of meat. Her front teeth certainly had the appearance of being a little more sharp and angular than usual but certainly not the fangs I had imagined the night before. I mentally chastised myself for staring and so concentrated on my own lunch.
We finished and she dabbed her lips with a napkin and stood up. “Now, come with me, you may have your wallet back”, she smiled over at me. “But first you must finish what you started”, glancing over her shoulder at me. As she exited the kitchen, she dropped her dress on the floor in one go and stepped out of it. She was naked save a pair of slip on shoes which she dropped in the hall way. Her beautiful curved tan body was stunning in the sunlight streaming in through the hall windows.
She led me into a bedroom dominated by a large ornately carved wooden bed. She turned and softly pushed me back on to the soft covers. Tipping her hair to one side, she unbuttoned my shirt and undid and pulled off my trousers and shoes. I discarded what what left.
She slowly massaged my naked frame, pushing me back into the covers as she arched her back like a stretching cat. Her soft kisses traced up my stomach and teased up to the nape of my neck. I could feel her heavy chest and pointed nipples smoothing up over my hard cock and up over my midriff. She kissed me full on the lips, her tongue pushing into my mouth and running over my teeth. Mine probed similarly into her mouth and lapped gently over her sharp incisors.
She smoothed my arms away from me so that I was laid out flat on my back and gently pushed herself up so that she was sitting astride me, her warm wetness crushing on to the base of my member. Tugging from the pillow underneath me she pulled out another silken wrap and gently placed it over my eyes.
“Do you trust me now?”, she purred close enough to my face that I could feel her soft warm breath roll over my face. I laughed and told her that I did, I apologised again for the night before. In honestly, all I could really think about was getting inside her again. “Good”, she murmured in response, running her hands down my outstretched arms. Then there was a definite pair of metal 'clinks'. “Well we need to be sure”, she kissed me again. I instinctively tried to pull in my arms to wrap up around her but found that I couldn't. I shook the silk off my face and saw that she had enclosed my wrists in a pair of soft leather lined steel cuffs which were now holding me outstretched.
The adrenaline kicked back in but as I went to protest she pushed me back into the pillow with a finger on my lips and a kiss. “Shhhh, be calm”, she purred at me, pulling her big firm boobs on to my face. Her dark pointed nipples were rubbed across my cheek and one by one pushed through my lips. I could feel her hot wetness straddling my stomach and my cock just straining out of reach of her behind.
I felt her rub herself backwards and forwards on my lower abdomen, then she leant backwards, cupping my balls in the flat of her hand, the fold of her bum just brushing me. She rocked back just far enough that I felt the smooth sensation of the back of her wet pussy. I closed my eyes in languorous ecstasy, just willing her to drop back another few inches and let me slide all the way in to her.
She didn't, what she did instead was rotate herself 180-degrees so that she was still astride me but now facing away. She picked up my hard dick and gently caressed it against her soft abdomen. I was left with a vision of her beautiful hairless brown pussy just in front of my face. I strained to touch it with tongue of finger but my binds held be back on the bed. She giggled and asked if I would like a taste before slowly shuffling backwards and laying herself down against me so that her beautiful wetness enveloped my chin and mouth. I ran my tongue in one long stroke all the way from around her clit to deep inside her and back up. At the same time, I felt her insert the tip of my cock into her warm, soft mouth and loop her tongue around it. I could feel her murmur each time I flicked around her hard clit with the flat of my tongue. I felt her suck slowly down the entire length of my shaft and then just stop, her sharp teeth just resting on the base of my now rock hard dick. The softness of her mouth and the tiny pricks of her sharp teeth brought me almost to climax, the combination of sexual tension and danger combining perfectly in the softly held embrace.
She took me out of her mouth and whispered down to me, “are you scared now?”. “You know that I could just bite this thing off in one go. The beautiful blood would burst down my throat and it tastes even better because you are so excited”. She kissed the tip of my cock gently, and ran a soft tongue up it.
The conflict pierced me instantly, all at once I had the desire that she would kiss me just once more, suck my shaft down her divine milking throat just one more time but on the other hand I did not want to be torn apart and devoured. Self preservation won over pretty quickly and I struggled. I pleaded with her not to touch me and let me go but I couldn't pull myself out of the bind and her weight just held me down. She laughed a hard, cackling laugh and lifted herself off me, turning round to have a look at me, smiling down, her sharp teeth just poking our from behind her soft lips.
I begged her just to let us fuck. She laughed, “no I am enjoying this too much, you men are so simple”. Then she continued, “I have an idea for a little game so you get your fuck. If you make me come first then you get free fuck, if you come first then maybe you get little bite.” She clacked her teeth together close to my nose to make her point. Sharp angular enamel perfectly interlocking just in front of my face.
She resumed her 69 position and made a long soft suck down my cock, followed by another quick dent of her sharp teeth in the head as she drew up as if to ram the point home. I really didn't want her to sink those teeth into me. I licked hard, at her pussy, swirling hard around her clit. She laughed and shouted, I could feel her getting close, her legs splayed either side of my head, upper thighs now shaking hard. I could feel myself tightening up too as she sucked her soft lips up and down my shaft, electricity running through me each time she stopped to lick the tip, her tongue probing everywhere.
I redoubled my pressure on her beautiful dripping pussy. As I pushed back the folds with my tongue, I felt something slightly hard in there, somewhere deep in the folds between the sets of lips. Trying to keep the pace and rhythm, I teased it with my tongue. As she got closer and closer the hardness inside became more pronounced until I suddenly found myself running my tongue along what felt like a line of very sharp teeth. In time with my ministrations, they were un-sheathing themselves from her soft folds and then sliding back in. As she got closer and closer, I became aware of another opposing line, softly just closing on the first, every now and then catching my tongue gently. I gasped and pulled my tongue back, shouted and tried again to get her weight off me. She responded by cackling and then again rocketing her deep soft sucking mouth down my cock. Then she pulled off with a hard sucking twist over the head. She repeated in a hiss,“you come first, you get bite, this is price”, any semblance of her gentle well-spoken lilting accent now gone as she dove her rippling throat down my cock length again.
I felt that I was not far away so I rapidly returned to her clit which was grinding itself on my face. It was just out of the way of her entrance guarded by the now softly chomping teeth. Her hand was now flying up and down my shaft and her mouth was sucking and swirling in the most divine sensation I have ever felt. Then she screamed and jumped up off me, pirouetting and then landing back down on me the other way round. She fed my rock hard prick into her dripping slit and sat down hard, enveloping me in one go. I felt a soft scrape from the teeth deep in her pussy around the base of my cock.
She bore down on me, sweat running over her face and hissed again, “You come first, you get little bite.” Snapping her jaw in front of me, her green eyes staring through me. I could feel her sharp lower teeth come together, biting me hard but not enough to pierce the skin.
Then she stiffened up, arched her back and screamed. I could feel all of the little muscles inside her contracting, running up and down my length and trying to milk me into her. She screamed again and then rolled off me laughing, sweaty, exhausted.
“So you passed, lucky boy.” She looked up at me with her big green eyes as she leant her soft chin on my belly. She reached down and undid the cuffs at my wrists and swung her knees over on to the floor by the bed. I sat up, my body flooded with cathartic relief but my penis still hard and willing despite the teeth marks indented in a ring around the base. She pouted her lips, “come here, now it is your turn”, blowing a kiss over at me. She closed her eyes and opened her deep soft lips in a lewd o-guesture. I could feel my member willing me to glide it in so smoothly. As my head touched her lips, she opened her mouth slightly, I saw her run her tongue along that line of sharp upper teeth before fully opening wide in an invitation to me.
Something snapped inside, enough. I was off the bed and running through the house in an instant, pausing only to grab my trousers and t-shirt. I burst through the front door and ran naked down the drive to the end of the garden where I paused to put on the clothes I had. I glanced back to see her ram the door open in pursuit, black hair and a robe flying out behind her, her face contorted with rage. I grabbed the old bike by the gate and started peddling back down the track towards the field with the hill. Even though I was cycling as fast as I could, I could feel her gaining on me, I glanced back a few times and it was almost as if she was gliding behind me. I heard her cruel laugh float in the wind.
I cycled as hard as I possibly could, my lungs wanting to burst from my chest but as I went. I wondered if I could feel her hot breath on my neck, started to feel her smooth palms just caressing my face. I was too scared to look back and confirm what I knew;- that she was keeping pace right behind me. I felt her wrap her long arms around me and pull herself close to my back. Even though still pedalling hard, I could smell her musky scent and feel her soft hair fluttering around us. Closing my eyes, I tried to will her away but in return I felt her run her warm tongue up from my shoulder blade to behind my ear. Her smooth naked legs wrapped around my waist and she locked me in an embrace. Then a pregnant pause and I felt her kiss the nape of my neck, stopping and just resting her unnaturally sharp teeth in a soft kiss. Her arms tightened around me and she bit down, smoothly into me. The pain was mixed with a chemical euphoria as I felt the fangs slice through me and the blood flow quickly back into her. My eyelids fluttered and the last thing that happened was that I lost consciousness and fell off the bike onto the dirt path.
3/
I came to strapped back to the same bed. I had no idea how long I'd been out but it looked as thought there was no light coming in round the bedroom curtains any more. I could feel bruises all over the front of my body complaining from where I had hit the ground. My neck throbbed horribly, someone had applied a dressing to it that had butterfly tapes across from under my ear to my chin, it was a big one. I was laying under covers but naked, it felt like someone had cleaned me off, there was a funny sort of lemony smell everywhere.
I could hear chatter in the next room, at least a few women, all speaking Bulgarian I guess. Dulcet Slavic tones punctuated by shrill laughter every now and then, they were clearly having a good time.
I quietly tugged at the tight leather cuffs keeping me spread-eagled. Nothing gave and I could not retract my limbs in closely enough to give myself any real leverage. I lay still for a moment, trying to concentrate but adrenaline from the fear coursing through my veins.
I tried tugging and jerking harder at the cuffs, doing my best to slide them up my wrists in the hope that my thumb would fold under them and let me slip my hand through. They simply wouldn't give. What did give was the wooden headboard of the bed that clattered against the big stone wall behind my head. I lay deathly still, eyes closed but it was too late, the chatter in the other room had stopped dead.
I heard steps on the hard floor coming this way and then the door opened, spilling in light. Lonela poked her head around the door.
“Are you awake?”
She turned on the light and sauntered in towards the bed, stopping to put a wine glass down on the dresser.
“You look better, some colour has come back”.
“What's going on, let me go”, I started to protest but she put her finger to my lips to silence me and pouted her big red lips into a 'shhhh'.
“Daniela, Marija”, she called out and then something I didn't understand but I guess meant come in here. The tall dark deathly pale tattooed gothic woman and the short blonde girl from the club poked their heads round the door and then came on in.
I lay in silence just watching as the two came in. Both just padded on in, watching me intently, eyes fixed on me but saying nothing. The shorter blonde girl, I think Marija, sat on the stool by the dresser and looked across the room. Daniela, came on over to the bed and sat on the other side of me across from Lonela. Daniela still scared me, she had a hard angular face, black hair tapered back, dark brown, almost black eyes.
Lonela muttered something soft across to her and they both smiled an understanding look between themselves.
I felt the soft of the back of Lonela's hand run across my cheek.
“Get off me”, I protested but she just continued. Her hand stroked lower down my chest.
“Come, let us play with you. It is the dream of every man to have three beautiful girls no?”
I pushed and wriggled against the cuffs but to no avail.
Lonela's hand snaked further down my body and softly encircled my member. I willed it to stay asleep, trying to focus on anything but the ministrations of the beautiful woman sat beside me, trying to remember her fierce bite still throbbing in my neck. I saw her duck her head down towards my groin, her soft black curls brushing down my chest as she blew gently across me. I screwed my eyes up, trying to ignore her, trying to name the 1966 world cup team, anything to keep my mind off the beautiful lips now starting to brush against me.
I could hear Lonela murmuring soft nothings, trying to prise me into action. Daniela just stared down at me intently.
Lonela's whisperings were punctuated by a hard gutteral sentence from Daniela on the other side. She was clearly getting bored and was impatient. I really didn't like her, the tall white sinewy tattooed body just sitting hard on the bed. She felt dangerous.
Another hard guttural Slavic sentence and Daniela peeled her v-necked top down to expose her almost pneumatic breasts. Big hard nipples jutted out and she forced them down onto my face. She was not soft and gentle like Lonela but forceful and deft in her movements. She grabbed my hair and pulled my face hard into her chest, grinding herself against me.
I could feel that at the same time Lonela had gently sucked my cowering member into her warm mouth. I could feel her tongue lapping around me, just gently probing, no sign of the razor sharp teeth, now softly covered by the full lips. I could feel myself extending and hardening, there was nothing I could do to stop my treacherous appendage.
Daniela leaned back off me, allowing me to grab a welcome full breath of air. She stood up quickly over me, dropped her black dress to the ground and stepped forward out of it. There was no seductive waves as she did, it was just functional movement. Tall, white, naked save for a giant black dragon-bat creature that wound its way up her body. She clambered back onto the bed and straddled my chin. Jamming her bald, wet salty opening on to me, she ground down, shrieking a little as she wrenched my by my hair, levering my lips and nose up into her.
As Daniela ground herself down on me in small circular motions, I felt her strong fingers wrap around my hand, first forcing it up on to one of her breasts and roughly over a hard nipple and then into her mouth. She continued to grind hard on my face, forcing me to grab air only momentarily as her slick wetness released me. She muttered something and laughed a shrill evil cackle.
I heard Lonela gasp and release my now hard member from her mouth. She replied to Daniela and then warned me.
“She says if you do not make yourself ready to please her then she is just going to bite off your hands. She says she is very hungry”.
Daniela, as if to punctuate the point stopped briefly on the thumb she was sucking and bit down hard. I could feel another razor sharp set of teeth dig into the base of my hand, leaving no doubt as to her ability to just remove it in one go.
There was no need, the violent grinding pussy on my face and the soft lips of Lonela on my cock had got it as hard as it had even been. Lonela toyed with it, popped it out of her mouth and said something softly back to Daniela. Who grunted some sort of approval. She stopped for a moment and sat back on my chest. I saw her take my bleeding hand out of her mouth above me and kiss it gently as in some sort of acknowledgement. She lapped the blood gently, as she did, her pussy convulsing in in an involuntary spasm of pleasure in front of me.
Daniela jumped off me and swivelled around to join Lonela down by my rock hard cock. Thinking only of the warning of the barman, I was willing it to deflate but the thing was absolutely ignoring me thanks to little soft kisses from the two women.
Daniela ordered something across to the Marija who until now had just been sitting on the foot stool across the room watching. Eyes locked on my hard member, the short blonde stood up and padded across the room as she was told. Daniela looked up at me and in bad broken English told me that I must be 'good'. It was to be Marija's first time.
Marija approached my hard dick that was handed to her by Lonela. I felt her small, cold fingers wrap around it and her little pink lips kiss it on the head. Lonela and Daniela seemed to be whispering encouragement to her. I lay back and looked up at the ceiling, resigned as Marija softly sucked it in between her tight lips. She was not warm and soft and billowy like Lonela, or hard and vicious like Daniela but seemed timid and almost slightly shaking with anticipation as she sucked me in. I felt her small hard tongue wrap around and caress me.
Daniela and Lonela smoothed her hair and then stood up to come and join me at the top of the bed. As Daniela sat down next to me, she peeled back the bandage on my neck. She gasped and laughed a little, running a finger across the ragged bite. I saw her reach over the top and say something to Lonela, peeling her soft lips back to reveal the jagged teeth behind them. I guessed she was saying something like 'what big teeth you have' but I didn't understand a word.
Lonela said something back, took Daniela's hand and thrust it back below the folds of her dress, sighing as she did. She shot back a response to Daniela that I guessed went something like 'actually, the really big ones are here'. The two fell back laughing. I lay terrified but there was nothing I could to to deflate myself from between the now more confident lips of Marija down at the bottom of the bed.
I felt Daniela gently rest her chin on the bed, next to my neck and the exposed wound. She kissed it slightly and ran her tongue idly over it.
I could feel Marija moving more and more quickly up and down my length, her breathing growing ragged. I was rock solid in her mouth and I could feel my orgasm building.
Daniela took my hand and inserted a finger back into her jaws. I could feel her grip me there, I did not fight, the razor sharp teeth clearly sending the message to the prey that the fight was over.
The beautiful Lonela's face appeared over me, her hand smoothed again against my cheek as she bent down to kiss me deeply with her beautiful red lips. As she did so, I felt Marija redouble the suction around my cock and my orgasm started to erupt. Daniela bit down hard, I could feel tooth cut through to finger bone like a hot knife through butter and at the same time I felt the young teeth of Marija come together hard once, a loud chomp filling the room, audible even over my screams. I could feel myself fountaining into her mouth with mixed fluids.
It was not how I had ever dreamed that I would go. Happily, I never did have to give the best-man speech.