It was probably a good thing, thought Miss Jocasta McStay, that the spare bedroom in the flat above the shop
faced north, and had fairly thick curtains, although having a vampire
sleep-over had not been a major consideration when choosing either shop or
curtains.
Now that the shop was shut, and Roxy had gone home, with
plans for them both to discuss ‘The Slayer Thing’ with her parents tomorrow,
Jocasta had decided to go and look in on her sleeping guest. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep
everything in life running smoothly, and according to the ‘Order of Things,’
she thought. The whole Slayer, Watcher,
Vampire relationship had become more and more – what? Chaotic? Unclear? Confused?
‘FLUID,’ she decided – ‘Fluid was probably the best way to think of
it.’ A fluid
relationship instead of a concrete one.
There had always been a strong relationship between Watcher,
Slayer and Vampire – or Watcher, Slayer and Prey as the Watchers Council
lecturers had sometimes put it.
Actually, Jocasta was aware that the bonds that held the three together
were so strong that ‘unusual’ relationships sometimes formed between Slayer and
Vampire, (hormonal teenage girls, and mysterious young men who had most
definitely been there and seen that!) but she hadn’t come across any record of
an ‘unusual’ relationship between a Watcher and a Vampire. Still, she was learning that there were a lot
of things that weren’t clear from the records, and since she was now the most
senior Watcher in the
She had wondered about coffee, and decided in favour of
taking him a cup – it would have to do until he could get something gloopier and redder.
She knew he was quite capable of eating and drinking ‘normal’ food -
he’d done so on most of their dates –it just wasn’t absorbed properly. Vampirism as a Non-Absorption Syndrome –
sounded like a good title for a learned paper, Jocasta thought. Thinking of her dates with Jack, she decided
that although at 28 she was definitely not a hormonal teenager, you had to
admit that Jack was a mysterious young (well 28 going on 420) man who had not
only been there and seen that – but by his wardrobe it looked as though he had,
at least since it was invented, always bought the T-shirt!
Jocasta knocked quietly on the bedroom door in case Jack was
awake - it only seemed fair to wait to be invited in, even if it was her house,
after all Jack ALWAYS had to wait to be invited. There was no sound from behind the door,
however, not even breathing. As Jocasta
didn’t have to wait to be invited, she opened the door gently, and went
in. Jack was still sleeping. She had never seen him asleep before – he had
never stayed the night, and even if he had done, he was fairly nocturnal. As she watched him she realised that he did
seem to breathe, almost imperceptibly, as if even after all these years his
bodily reflexes found it difficult to give up the habit.
He had thrown the duvet partly off in his sleep, and Jocasta
could see that the wound where his shoulder joined his neck was now healing at
almost proper vampire rate, since they had performed the surgical removal of
the soul eater earlier. Surgical removal
using Slayer Blood and a Dyson – probably not in the text books, but then
vampires didn’t usually require surgery, so there probably wasn’t a text book
for it not to be in, she mused. He had
still felt a bit off after the ‘operation’, which was why he’d spent the day in
Jocasta’s spare room, rather than going home before sunrise.
Funny the thing about the soul eater – until only a few
months ago Jocasta had believed that ‘Vampires Do Not Have Souls’ was one of
the Great Self Evident Truths, but this was another area where things had got a
bit fluid (Yes – good word!). There now
seemed to be at least four around who did, and at least a couple of ex-vampires
around who seemed to have kept theirs at least partly attached through years of
vampirism. (Ex-vampires? Just another sign of the
current fluid state of the universe!).
When she had tried to bring the subject of souls up in a not
prying sort of way with Jack (well with a soul-eater attack, and the prophecy
they had found in Peru, it had seemed necessary) he was totally unperturbed,
and said that if that was what it was, he’d had his back since the first
eclipse after he was turned – it had just healed itself like everything else,
but he hadn’t thought it important enough to mention it.
In a way this made Jocasta feel a whole lot better, not just
for Jack, but also for herself – being attracted (Well O.K., very attracted) to
a vampire was not quite so bad if he was not a totally demon-run thing, but a
real soul-owning person. Even if he was
a soul-owning 16th century Reiver, with
much the same moral code as he’d always had – which was why the soul was a bit
hard to spot, she thought! At
University, Jocasta had played quite a lot of Dungeons and Dragons, and she now
categorised Jack as Chaotic Neutral, which was quite acceptable, even if as a
Watcher she was meant to be Lawful Good.
She thought she probably had a slightly chaotic streak at times – like
the times when she found Jack extremely fanciable,
well as he said himself, he did scrub up quite well!
She stood for a minute, watching him, it was after all what
she did best, she thought. His skin was
pale, but not really the alabaster white of some paintings of his type, not an
albino white, more the pale fawn colour of someone who had been in bed ill for
weeks, and not seen the sun, or the colour of someone who spent all night
clubbing, and slept all day. That was a
better analogy, she thought. Peter Stringfellow would probably be this colour if no-one had
invented the sun-bed and fake tan. Could
vampires go on sun beds? Probably not. She
couldn’t really visualise a vampire getting a Saint Tropez fake tan either –
well perhaps female ones. On further
consideration she decided that Jack was probably a healthier colour than he
would be if he spent all of every night clubbing – the high protein diet was
probably better for the skin than the diet of the average clubber! Nice muscles.
Vampires are strong, and he’d been a strong lad before being
turned. As he lay on his side she could
make out the muscles of his arm, his back and his shoulder. She’d run her hands over them under his shirt
a few times now, but this was the first time she could just stand and admire.
She put the coffee down, turned on the bed-side light, then
gently touched him on the shoulder – best not wake a vampire roughly she
thought, they might vamp out and attack without thinking about it. She had not seen Jack in full vamp face, and
wasn’t sure she wanted to – and definitely not at this moment. His skin was cool, as she knew from
experience, but it was no cooler than you’d expect when someone had slept bare chested in a north facing
bedroom in
Within seconds of that light touch he was awake. The dark brown eyes were wide open, looking
up into her face, and he was as alert as a cat about to spring. ‘Evenin’, Cass,’ he
said. ‘Cass’, she liked ‘Cass’. No-one had ever called her ‘Cass’. She actually quite liked Jocasta – even
though, coupled with McStay it did sound like a Terry Pratchett
witch. Maybe even the name of a
historical, burnt-at-the-stake type of witch – did they still burn witches when
Jack was a lad? Probably. Anyway, Jocasta was an old family name, and McStays had been on the Watchers Council for many
generations, so a name to be proud of.
But no-one had ever called her ‘Cass’ before. Her family sometimes called her ‘Jo’, and a
boyfriend at university had always called her ‘Joker’ like a character from
Batman, but Cass was just Jack’s name for her, although she had noticed that in
company he always called her Jocasta.
‘How’s the shoulder now?’ Jocasta asked. ‘Getting better, but--’ was the reply. ‘But what?’ ‘Well I know Slayer Blood is usually the most
powerful healing agent for a vampire, but, well, I mean I’ve been around a
while, and like, er, I think this needs a little
something else as well,’ he said, looking a little tired and pained. ‘What?’ asked Jocasta, concerned. His head fell, in a way which Jocasta
supposed books meant by ‘wanly,’ onto his pillow and he gazed sadly up. ‘I think it needs kissing better by a
Watcher!’ he said.
Those big brown eyes were now decidedly full of fun, and
maybe a few other things, including lust.
‘Well if you’ll just wait a few minutes, I could go and ring for James,’
answered Jocasta, sounding very serious.
‘No, no, I divn’t think I’ll last that long,’
gasped Jack, clutching dramatically at his shoulder, and trying to look ill and
pathetic. ‘Well, in that case I suppose
I’d better do it myself,’ she said, and bent down until her lips were touching
the cool flesh, where it was still possible to see where the Bringer’s knife
had wounded him.
Jack’s skin tasted and smelt as she had known it would, from
previous kisses. Faintly earthy, with a
hint of aftershave, definitely more alive than dead she thought. Then wondered – how did she know the taste
was more alive than dead? All previous
males that she’d got close enough to taste were 100% alive, and each a bit
different to the other, was the Jack difference the ‘dead’ bit, and was it
bigger than the similarities – the ‘live’ bit, and why did people in books
always describe how anyone tasted if they were going into interpersonal details
anyway? What was there about being in
close proximity to Jack in a state of undress, in her spare bed, with her face
in his neck (better than the other way around!) that made her possibly think
‘interpersonal’ type stuff anyway?
Probably the fact that the ‘Watcher’s Kiss’ remedy seemed to
have worked remarkably quickly, and he was moving around to pull her down onto
the bed with him, and transferring the kiss from neck to mouth! Apart from the lying on the bed bit, it
wasn’t anything they hadn’t done a few times in the last couple of months, and
the duvet was still in between from hip down, so not THAT interpersonal she
reasoned – well not yet anyway, as her hands moved to his back.
In reciprocation one of Jack’s hands slid up her back to
press her a bit closer, but not too close to allow the other hand to slide up
the front of her rib-cage at the same time.
She rather thought that the ‘correct’ clothing for someone who kept a
shop selling crystals, potions and similar things was a floaty
dress with lots of lace and jingling things, but it wasn’t really her style,
and not very practical – so Jack’s hands only had to cope with a T-shirt (with
‘mythical’ pattern), before finding her bra.
‘Bugger’, thought Jocasta, ‘if I’d thought about this instead of
pondering about coffee, I’d have taken off the boring ‘T-shirt bra’, and put on
something a bit more visually appealing!’ Jocasta had not had the sort of
breasts you were supposed to be able to go bra-less with under a T-shirt since
she was about fourteen – if you put a pencil under one of hers and let go of
it, it would happily stay there, even if she jogged up and down a bit, so no
going bra-less for her.
Jack’s ability to undo a bra with one hand was, as she’d
commented to him one evening, very impressive, but there again, as he said, he’d
been practicing ever since the blessed garment was invented. (She’d wondered at the time whether he meant
blessed literally, or as a derogatory term, but had been too flustered to ask.) As it came undone she could feel her breasts
drop a bit under their own weight, and Jack let out a happy little grunting
sound as he felt the weight of one with his hand. His thumb brushed her nipple, and she could
feel it stiffening in welcome – he seemed to know exactly the right amount of
pressure to get the effect most quickly.
Like rubbing it with an ice-cube, which Jocasta had read was how they
got people’s nipples to stand up for photo shoots – um – cold, maybe THAT was
why the vampire touch worked so well!
Jack had started to pull up the T-shirt, and Jocasta
squirmed. This was a bit further than previous close encounters with Jack;
she’d always kept her top on until now. His tongue, which had been rubbing her
teeth, stopped, and he moved his mouth just far enough away to talk. ‘Ee, Cass, divn’t be mean – ah’m topless,’
he muttered, but she kept wriggling – until his hand moved to the other nipple,
and it also stiffened under his touch.
‘That’s better, it would look silly with one hard one and one soft one,’
thought Jocasta, and changed the direction of squirm, so that she was now
wriggling out of both T-shirt and bra.
Instead of going back to her mouth, Jack’s tongue began to
slowly move down, chin, the soft spot in her neck (he stopped there briefly,
avoided the silver and crystal cross, glanced up at her eyes and winked), her
upper chest, then the upper curve of her left breast, around outside the
areola, the under-curve of the breast, and finally, as she made small moaning
sounds and tangled her hands in his hair, the nipple. As he nibbled and licked it she could feel it
hardening even more, becoming positively erect.
Jocasta couldn’t remember any previous man having anywhere near this
effect, and just as the thought crossed her mind that she had once read the
phrase ‘nipples like chapel hat pegs’, and had finally achieved at least one,
Jack lifted his head, drooling slightly, said ‘Ee
pet, I could hang my hat on that’, before moving to the right breast. Jocasta found it was possible to both moan
and giggle at the same time, and the resulting effect seemed to please Jack, as
he moved from one breast to the other with a smile that was bordering on a
smirk!
As Jack’s face moved back towards hers, and his mouth again
found her mouth, Jocasta could feel his hands gently probing around the
waistband of her jeans. She started to
run her own hands down his chest, through the fine patch of hair, with her
nails just skimming the surface, down towards his hips, meaning to run them
down over the outside of his jeans.
Jeans – what jeans? She was well
down to the hip level, and there was still only cool skin under her fingers and
the beginnings of the next patch of hair!
Jocasta let out a rather surprised squeak – speech was
difficult as she currently had two tongues in her mouth. Jack’s head pulled back from hers, and he
looked questioningly at her. ‘You’ve
nothing on,’ said Jocasta rather accusingly.
‘Ah’m not a total
peasant you know’, he answered, ‘Well not these days. Me jeans would‘ve got all crumpled, and I
often go commando unless it’s below freezing.
Ah’m surprised you’ve never noticed the lack
of ‘panty-line’ when you’ve had your hands on me bum!’ He grinned – then added
‘Which makes you a bit over-dressed still!’ and he made a purposeful dive for
Jocasta’s jeans again.
She really didn’t want to resist, the tingle in her nipples
had been running down to her pussy, and she just wanted more, so she lifted her
hips, rather than trying to stop him undoing anything. Meeting no resistance it didn’t take Jack
long to remove both Jocasta’s jeans and panties (white, but at least fairly
new, and not at all baggy, had they been anything else there might have been
resistance!), and she was glad that she’d kicked off shoes and socks after
coming up from the shop, naked people with their footwear on just looked silly.
Untangling himself from the duvet, Jack knelt beside her on
the bed. Naked side by side, she noticed
that really they had almost the same skin tone; the main contrast was her
blonde hair, and his dark. He had an
impressively hard and upstanding cock already; come to think of it he probably
woke up with it, which is why the whole thing started, Jocasta thought. She had felt it before, through his jeans,
and decided that it was at least as big as she’d thought – this ‘cock of the
north’ was certainly a lot more than a ‘cock sparrow’, she thought, and reached a hand out towards
it. Even though Jack could see what she
was doing, he suddenly moved his hips, and moved himself away from her hand,
bringing his mouth down on a nipple again, licking it briefly, and then blowing
gently on it, before trailing his tongue down her body.
He stopped for a while at her navel, and ran his tongue
around it, cushioning his head on her tummy with another small contented
sound. It was a gently rounded tummy –
not enough to ‘overhang’ when she stood, but not a flat taut, fashionable
stomach, in fact Miss Jocasta McStay, at 5’6” was a fairly standard size 16 (or
14 in American – which always sounded more flattering). However, the two previous men to get this
close had found it a very acceptable body, and Jack had told her in fairly
basic terms a couple of times over the last couple of months that one of his
main ambitions in life (un-life?) since he’d first set eyes on her was to get
his hands, and other things, on as much of it as possible, therefore Jocasta
had no thoughts at all about holding bits in, or trying to hide bits, she just
lay back and revelled in sensation.
With his tongue in her navel, and his head still resting on
her tummy, Jack’s hand reached down, and cupped her whole pubic mound, covering
about as much as a thong, Jocasta thought inconsequentially. He gently squeezed so that the fleshy outer
labia and the mons were applying pressure to
everything they covered, and Jocasta squirmed, and moaned. She reached down towards Jack with both
hands, but could only really reach his head and shoulders. With one hand she grasped his shoulder,
(remembering even now to go for the uninjured one, she didn’t want to interrupt
the flow!), and her other hand tangled in his hair again.
Jack lifted his head, and looked into her eyes ‘Is that
nice, pet?’ he asked, continuing to apply the pressure to her outer pussy, and
moving the whole thing a little in a circular motion. ‘Mm, yes, yes,’ Jocasta said slightly
indistinctly, while she pushed upwards into his hand as hard as she could. Jack smiled, ‘I thought Yes, Yes, came
later,’ he said. ‘Mm – it might come
sooner than you think,’ Jocasta said, between teeth that were trying to clench
themselves. Jack lifted his eyebrows,
‘Oh no, not just yet,’ he said, easing the pressure, then releasing her pussy
altogether.
His hands moved to her hips, and the build up of sensation
in her pussy came down a level or two, giving a moment or two of
disappointment. Only a moment or two
though, as he dipped his head down and gently pulled on her pubic hair by
nibbling it. Jack paused for a moment,
looked up and said ‘Natural blonde, always my favourite flavour’, before moving
his lips and teeth even further down, and starting to nibble on the same outer
fleshy lips he had been applying pressure to moments earlier. (Such nice teeth, thought Jocasta – surely
they wouldn’t have been in such good condition pre-vamp. Did vampires have dentists, or did the
slightly sharp, white teeth even when not in full vamp face come with the
job? So many things the Watchers’
Council Lectures hadn’t covered! Was she
weird, she wondered, to be able to think about such things whilst her body was
desperately trying to rush towards orgasm?)
Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was probably only
about 10 minutes after the ‘Watcher’s Kiss’ cure, Jack’s tongue moved a little
deeper, into the satiny folds of her
inner labia. (Jocasta rather liked the
word labia, it rolled off the tongue so nicely, and so she tended to think
‘labia’ rather than any slang word – and rolling off the tongue, was definitely
what was happening to them right now!)
She tried to move her hips to push her clit into the path of Jack’s
tongue, only to realise why he had moved both hands to her hips, as he pushed
down on them and held her still. He
stopped licking. ‘Bastard!’ thought
Jocasta, slightly shocking herself.
‘Don’t rush so much Cass,’ said Jack, ‘Let me drive up this first slope
– you can drive later!’ ‘Mm, can’t help it’, she muttered. ‘Relax, like Frankie says,’ said Jack,
quoting a T-shirt he’d worn a few weeks earlier. He kept the firm pressure on her hips, and
lowered his head again.
This time he dipped his tongue right into her, at first she
felt it probing and entering her as if it was a pointed, hard little cock, then
it licked smoothly and softly forward, until finally it swept across the hood
of her clit, and drew a circle around it.
Such a mixture of sensations!
Hard, cool, (would the traditional vampiric description
of alabaster do here? Had anyone ever
made an alabaster dildo? Maybe the ancient Egyptians!) Soft, cool, (ice-cream? Snow? No, not that cold, perhaps more the sensation
you would get if you rubbed your fanny against a silk cushion!). Heat, sizzle (that was her
own nerve endings at the end of the stroke!).
The same pattern, hard, probe, soft, slick, circle, sizzle
continued in rhythm, until it had repeated ten or twelve times, then he added
an extra note to the riff. Hard, probe,
soft, slick, circle, sizzle - flick!
The flick of Jack’s tongue on the very head of her clit made Jocasta
feel as if her ears were going to explode.
She still had one hand in his hair, but the other one had been pressed
into the bed, and now she reached down to his hand on her hip, not to pull it
away (vampire strength and all that), but to pull it upwards, towards her
boobs.
As Jack reached the end of the next repeat, his eyes flicked
up towards her face. As a counterpoint to
her own gasps and moans Jocasta realised he was also making small satisfied
noises, a bit like a Pooh Hum (‘Isn’t it funny, how a vamp likes cunny’ maybe?). He
moved the hand she had hold of, in a move so quick as to be imperceptible, and
now it was on top of her hand – which was now on her hip. Just as ‘“Bugger” said Pooh’ was forming in
Jocasta’s mind, the brown eyes changed expression, and the other hand came up,
sliding over the slick of sweat that had already formed on her tummy, and
cupped a breast. This time the hand put
in the bass line – hard, probe (cup, squeeze),soft, slick (cup, squeeze),
circle, sizzle (circling finger around areola), flick (flick thumb on nipple).
Now at each flick, Jack’s eyes also flicked up towards
Jocasta’s face, and the soft ‘Pooh Hum’ got more satisfied sounding, until at
about the fourth or fifth ‘flick’ since he’d reached for her breast, the top of
Jocasta’s head exploded, her clit exploded, and everything in between did
something – possibly imploded. She came
not only with a bang, but a very loud yell, becoming a soft giggle, then a sort
of mewing sound. The part of Jocasta
that was always Watcher noted this reaction from a distance – probably about a
hundred miles away, and decided that it was probably the most spectacular
orgasm she’d ever had – yet.
As the giggling turned to mewing, so the tongue slowed to a
slow gentle circling of her clit, then a gentle lapping, like a cat. The hand on her hip moved down towards her
pussy and cupped it, squeezing more gently than before, and Jack’s head moved
back towards her tummy. ‘Nice, pet?’ asked Jack. ‘How feline it was’, drifted
across Jocasta’s Watcher mind, but coherent speech was still a bit difficult,
and although she thought that she must share that thought with him sometime, at
the moment all that came out was ‘Mm’.
Jack’s face, still damp around the mouth, broke into a
grin. ‘What Cass, lost for words? And that was only for starters, pet,’ said
Jack.
He started to move back up her body, still licking gently
all the way, leaving a cool trace where he replaced the sheen of sweat with a
slight trail of saliva, until he brought his head up the valley between her
breasts, back to her jaw bone, and then back to gently nibble at her lips. Jocasta noticed, even in her post-orgasm
daze, that the Jack smell was now slightly earthier, and laced with a softer
muskier aroma that she could also taste as her tongue gently touched his mouth
on hers, the smell and taste of her own juice.
The mixture was good.
They were now face to face, with Jack lying sideways beside
her at hip level, and over her at face level, one hand on her shoulder, one
still cupping a breast. His toes were
just touching her toes. They were almost
exactly the same height. Jack had once
commented that when he was a young man, 5’6” was a good height for a lad, and
he found it a bit disconcerting that so many men were taller than him now. Jocasta decided that actually there was
something rather nice about matching so perfectly side by side, it put more of
his body within easy reach. Now that her
body seemed to be more or less back under the control of her brain, with just
an overall tingle, and a few loud signals going from where Jack’s mouth and
hands touched her down to her boobs and pussy, she wanted to explore everything
within reach.
Jocasta slid one hand down from Jack’s shoulder along his
side, until it rested on his hip briefly, while her other hand went to his
chest, ruffling the hair, and her nails grazed first one nipple then the other.
His nipples were raised, and hardened gratifyingly under her touch, as he made
one of his small satisfied sounds again.
Slowly she trailed the hand from his hip bone down across his stomach
(firmer than hers, dusted with dark hair) until she just touched his cock,
still very much erect. (That was good -
he must have been genuinely turned on by the pleasure he had been giving
her.) She resisted the urge to grasp it
firmly, ‘Don’t rush so much, Cass,’ echoed inside somewhere, and she just
touched it gently with her fingertips, learning the exact feel of the skin
stretched over the oh so solid flesh.
Not really alabaster – almost as smooth as alabaster, maybe
alabaster with a smooth, silky, velvety cover.
Jack stilled, and his next small satisfied sound was more
gasp-like.
Jocasta moved her body slightly, until they were side by
side at face level as well as hip level, then with her fingertips now gently
moving up and down the length of Jack’s cock, she asked ‘Can I drive up this
next hill?’. Jack smiled, ran his tongue
over his lips, and said ‘Why aye, pet, gan on.’ The last syllable was followed by another one
of what Jocasta already thought of as Jack’s Pooh sounds, as her fingers on his
cock moved around to encircle it.
There was, thought Jocasta, something very satisfying about
the fact that her finger tips and thumb tip JUST met around Jack’s cock, no
overlap, no room for another millimetre before they would not be able to touch
– neat! Sort of made
to measure.
Her hand that was still on Jack’s chest pushed him gently,
so that he lay back onto the pillow.
Hardly moving the hand which was around his cock, just squeezing very
slightly in a slow rhythm, Jocasta applied one or two more little nibbles to
Jack’s mouth, as he had to hers, then running her tongue first over his lips to
savour the taste of both of them, she started to place little kisses along his
jawbone until she came to his earlobe, which she took gently between her teeth.
She swirled her tongue around the earlobe, then sucked
briefly on it, before moving on down Jack’s neck. Cool smooth skin now that she was below the
line of slight stubble (Do vampires get
Jack’s nipples, and the puckered circles around them, were
dark brown against his pale skin, and she touched first one then the other with
lips, then teeth, then tongue, then just as he had with one of hers, she blew
cool air across them. She was pleased to
see them stiffen more, only one previous boyfriend had had sensitive nipples,
and watching them react was good. Jack’s
eyes watched her, slightly defocused with pleasure, and he made one of his
small happy sounds as each nipple received her attentions, and her hand on his
cock started to move up and down a little with each squeeze.
As Jocasta’s mouth moved south down Jack’s body, she paused
for a moment at his navel, (shallow, neat, no fluff!) and the free hand
smoothed across his tummy, to his hip bone.
He laughed gently, and covered it with one of his own hands, he
stretched his other hand out towards Jocasta’s breast again, but she had slid
so far down the bed by now that it was out of reach. She looked up, grinned, and said ‘Lie back,
relax, and remember I’m driving now!’
Jack laughed again, his body shaking slightly under Jocasta’s hands, and
instead he tangled the hand in her hair, which he moved back slightly so that
he could watch her mouth on his skin.
Jocasta continued down, tracing the dark line of hair all the
way down from his navel to the point where his cock joined his body, hand
holding his cock gently out of the way, so that her mouth didn’t touch it
–yet. She traced a circle with her
tongue all the way around the base of his cock, just feathering across the
puckered skin of his balls, the touch so light that with anyone less sensitive
than a vampire, it might have gone un-noticed, but by the Pooh sounds and the
slight buck of the hips she knew that Jack had registered it.
She stopped. The hand
holding Jack’s cock maintained the slight pressure on it, but stopped
moving. Lifting her head, Jocasta looked
at Jack’s face, and realised that a vampire could look slightly flushed. She knew she probably looked fairly flushed
herself! ‘Do you think this could GET
any better if I kissed it?’ she asked, ‘and would biting
be O.K. now?’ Jack laughed again, and
her hand on his hip could feel him tensing his muscles trying not to push his
cock up and down in the containing hand.
‘Crack on, pet’, he said ‘I’m the happiest of passengers!’
Slowly, lasciviously, Jocasta put her tongue to the point
where balls and cock met, and making a long slow ‘Mmm’
sound deep in her throat she licked the length of Jack’s cock, until she
reached the totally smooth, slick, ooze covered head. Oh, she did love doing this, such a long time
since she’d had time for a man that she’d been comfortable with doing
this. So cool, she thought, like a
Magnum bar, a white chocolate Magnum bar, and as Jack the vampire watched, Miss
McStay the Watcher closed her eyes, and licked, and swirled her tongue around
the head of his cock, then took the head in her warm, wet mouth, and applied
just the slightest of pressure with her teeth.
The noise that Jack was making caused Jocasta to open her
eyes, and look up towards his face. It
was a sound somewhere between a moan, a grunt, and a laugh, and eventually he
actually took a deep breath, straightened his face, and said ‘I don’t think
loppin’ off that head works, pet, at least I hope
not!’ Jocasta smiled. An odd effect, smiling up
at someone whilst your teeth are fastened around the head of their cock. She increased the pressure of her teeth ever
so slightly, so that Jack’s cock was firmly held by the neck, moved her hand
slowly up and down the shaft, and continued to swirl her tongue across and
around, tasting, testing, savouring.
Jack made no more coherent sounds for a minute or two, just
more Pooh sounds. Jocasta could feel the
muscles beneath her hand on his hip tensing, and then relaxing, in time with
the rhythm of her other hand and her tongue.
Now she started to suck, gently at first, pulling a little more of his
length into her mouth, almost grazing it with her teeth, but not quite. Now she increased the pressure of the grip on
his shaft and her hand moved in a slightly faster rhythm. Hand, tongue, teeth, suction, forming one
bar, to the beat of her own heart (pity she couldn’t match it to Jack’s!). More sound from Jack, a very satisfied
version of the Pooh hum, but perhaps a little ragged – what Jack, losing
control? Jocasta’s mind formed the next
line of the Hum she had thought of earlier ‘Isn’t it funny how a vamp likes cunny? Suck, suck, suck, I wonder if we’ll fuck?’
Jack’s head on the pillow was tossing around, as he
continued to moan a little, and grunt a little, and his hand in her hair was moving in time to her hand on his cock,
trying, trying, not to take over the ‘driving’, not to impose his rhythm or
depth onto her. She could feel him
trying to hold his hips still, and now, at the point in the bar where her
circling hand was moving down to the root of his cock, and her mouth was
sucking up on the head of it, she removed her restraining hand from his
hip. (Jocasta knew full well that he could
have moved at any time he wanted; she admired a little restraint in a man.)
Recognising the ‘permission to move’ signal, Jack let out a
loud grunt of satisfaction (more Piglet than Pooh, maybe?), and he started to
thrust upwards into Jocasta’s mouth, at that same, stretching, point in the bar
where she had released his hip.
In time with each other, the rhythm increased, faster,
faster, encircling hand up shaft towards mouth and tongue swirling around glans, then hand down towards body, sucking mouth, hips
thrust. Jack moaned, Jocasta ‘Mm’d’ deep in her throat, aware of the taste and the
texture, and the increasing tautness of the Magnum cool cock in her mouth.
‘Now’, thought Jocasta, ‘Now is the time to drive this car
over the cliff!’ Without disrupting the
rhythm or pace, she moved her body weight a little, so that she could move the
hand that had been on Jack’s hip. She
glanced up, and her eyes met Jack’s, still open, although gazing at her in that
slightly out of focus way, and as the cock-mouth music reached the extension
point this time, she cupped his balls, and very softly squeezed.
This time he closed his eyes, and made a louder, gasping
sound with each stroke. Five or six more
bars and Jocasta could feel his balls tightening, lifting a little in her hand,
and knew that he was at the very edge of coming. Then, under her fingers on his cock, she
could feel the movement of the spunk, bubbling upwards, like champagne about to
blow the cork off the bottle, and just as it reached the top, she released his
cock from her mouth, and changed the pressure of hand on shaft slightly so that
the stroke was all pressure up towards the head, none down, and watched Jack
erupt like a tiny cool volcano.
Jack’s come, where it spilled down his shaft and her hand,
onto his belly, was clear - totally clear.
Jocasta watched it in fascination.
Somewhere from the deep recesses of memory she could hear the voice of a
lecturer explaining that as a vampire is not truly alive, it (!) cannot
breed. She’d never been totally sure
about this, as texts were always very clear about the dangers to young women of
the sexual propensities of vampires, but she hadn’t liked to ask, and it hadn’t
seemed likely to be personally important at the time. She had come to the conclusion that they just
didn’t have any ‘bodily fluid’ sign of orgasm at all – but this was obviously
wrong.
As Jack’s body
stopped moving, and his head lay quiet on the pillow, eyes still on her,
Jocasta slowly relaxed the grip on his cock, but kept it gently resting in her
hand, and then touched the clear fluid on his tummy with the tip of her other
index finger, and raised it slowly to her mouth. (She had read that the taste of a man’s spunk
depended on what he ate – was it true of vampires? Something else the lecturers hadn’t covered –
they really should revise the syllabus!)
The taste was not unpleasant, salty, rather like licking your finger if
you cut it, and it was just so beautiful, more viscous than champagne and
forming little rainbows where the light caught it. She caught some of it up between her fingers,
held it to the light, and felt that she could gaze at it for ever!
She realised that Jack was now watching her in a totally
focussed way, and she wondered if she looked rather silly, but he didn’t seem
to be laughing. He made another couple
of soft contented sounds, and smiled at her, licking his lips. His cock, in her hand, twitched gently, and
stiffened again. ‘Cass, have you any
idea how sexy that looks?’ Jack asked. ‘Mm, sexy? It’s just
that it’s so beautiful,’ she answered, rather embarrassedly. ‘I mean, I’ve seen come before, but it didn’t
look quite like this!’ ‘I guessed that
you might have seen it once or twice before – after that performance,’ he said
laughingly, ‘are you sure you haven’t had a couple of hundred years of
practice?’ Jocasta blushed. ‘No, no, but the first time I tried it, I
decided that I liked it, and the boyfriend I had at the time seemed to like it
too, so I did it a few times before we broke up,’ she answered. ‘Aye, you looked like you were enjoying it!’
Jack said, ‘and I sure as hell was!’ he added grinning.
He reached a hand down, and pulled her back up his
body. The spunk on her fingers continued
to catch the light, and she found herself still looking at it, even as he took
the fingers into his own mouth and licked them slowly. Jocasta felt a shiver running down her spine,
ending in her pussy again. Jack stopped
licking, looked her in the eye, and said ‘Didn’t they
teach you that a vampire fires blanks, pet?’
‘They didn’t put it quite that succinctly’, said Jocasta,
‘but to be fair, I don’t think “they” would have expected me to be quite in
this position, where it became relevant.’
‘Oh, and which do you think would be the official preferred position for
you to be in?’ asked Jack, trying to look solemn, ‘is there a ‘Watcher’
position like there’s a ‘Missionary’ one then, pet? Can you teach me it, I divn’t
think I’ve ever come across it before!
Mind, come to think of it I divn’t think I’ve
ever come across a Watcher at all before!’ Jocasta laughed, so that her breasts joggled
against Jack’s chest, and sent a tingle down to her pussy again. ‘I think the official position would be with
at least half a mile between us – or a stake!’ she said. ‘Well, I’ve got SOMETHING hard, solid, and
fairly pointy ended that you could hold between us!’ said Jack.
Before Jocasta could answer, Jack’s mouth again covered
hers, so that she was giggling and kissing at the same time, but her eyes, as
Jack looked into them, twinkled with laughter, and her hand reached down, just
as he had suggested. Jack really could
move quickly – vampiric speed, reflexes and the rest
were just as covered in lectures – his hand was on her pussy before her hand
was within a couple of inches of his cock!
Jocasta knew that she was as wet as he was hard, (or was he
as hard as she knew she was wet?) and as his fingers slid in between her folds,
this time he smoothed straight around her clit, which was so swollen that it
seemed to be trying to escape from her pussy and reach right out towards
him. Her grip on his cock was not the
gentle touch she had started with before, but already a firm caress, sliding
easily from root to tip, lubricated with his own fluid.
Jack’s fingers moved around in her pussy, and now he eased
two, then three fingers right inside her, whilst his thumb continued the
slithery circling of her clit. She tried
to gasp, but her mouth was full of mouth, then Jack’s face pulled back a little
from hers, he moved his body weight, and put his other hand over hers on his
cock. He looked into her eyes, smiled,
and said ‘Can I come in? You know that I
never go into anywhere uninvited!’
The Watcher inside Jocasta McStay, said ‘I’m not sure this
invitation is quite necessary,’ but nothing said ‘Don’t issue it!’, and as the
phrase ‘Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb’ floated into her mind, so
too did her earlier thought that she was the most senior Watcher around
– who could DO the hanging? So she
nodded, and putting her cock-free hand onto his shoulder, rolled so that she
was on her back, knees slightly bent, and Jack was easing himself on top of
her.
Jack’s hand held her hand which held his cock, and so it was
that the act of penetration, the entry of cool cock (alabaster, Magnum bar,)
deep into the warm, wet depths of pussy,(watered silk, melting chocolate), was
a very mutual act, Watcher and Vampire acting in total harmony.
For a few seconds they lay still, joined by this most
intimate of connections, and Jocasta thought ‘Nice. Such a long time since the
last time. Good fit – full,
absolutely full: stretched, nicely stretched, but not too much – neat!’ Just as this last thought drifted through her
mind, Jack’s voice, right by her ear, said ‘Good, Cass? Is that good?
I’ve woken up thinking of this for ages.’ In answer, Jocasta did three things – she
said ‘Mmmm,’ she moved her head so that her mouth was
on Jack’s, and she gently rotated her hips.
Slowly they moved, mouth to mouth, nipple to nipple, belly
on belly, but hips moving in counterpoint, gently at first, then in a
quickening rhythm, cock all in, cock almost out, all in, almost out. Now that they were sure of the beat, their
hands began to move, Jack’s in Jocasta’s hair, or cupping her breasts, still
teasing her nipples, hers on his back, or gripping him firmly by the muscles of
his bum.
It stopped being gentle, and began to be harder, deeper,
faster (‘Isn’t that the motto of the Olympics?’ thought Jocasta). This was shagging, this was screwing, this
was fucking – this was fucking good!
Jocasta could feel herself getting hotter, her skin felt flushed, and
wet with sweat, and just above her Jack also began to look decidedly flushed,
and even the cock deep inside no-longer felt so much cooler than the flesh that
gloved it (lecturer’s voice – a vampire can experience some raising of body
temperature in conditions of exertion – this must be a condition of exertion!).
Jack slowed the rhythm again, and Jocasta tried to slow down
with him, she’d let him drive for now.
He eased himself up from her, without pulling out, and moved both
himself and Jocasta, until he was kneeling between her legs, her knees bent up
beside his hips, her feet flat on the bed.
Jack let out another small grunt of satisfaction, and reached one hand out
to Jocasta’s breasts, whilst he slid the other one back into her pussy, between
the sleekly swollen labia, and gently teased her clit.
Now Jocasta began to move her hips, the rhythm now more hers
than his, bucking upwards towards the
hand in her pussy, moving up and down on his cock, so that she was
fucking him, she was
moving his cock into herself, then almost out, in deep, then almost out,
backwards and forwards. She tried to keep
her eyes open, to watch Jack, she guessed she had the same unfocussed look as
him, and between her own sounds of pleasure, and the wet noises of flesh on
flesh, she could hear Jack, making small contented noises.
She half expected Jack to slow her down again, or to take
away the hand that pressed and rubbed her swollen clit, but instead he now
moved with her, at her pace, increasing the depth of thrust until she felt that
he was pushing her womb up into her chest, making her breath come in short gulps. Deep, hard, clit singing,
nipples straining upwards, all joined by an invisible thread of lust and
sensation. ‘Now! Now!
Yes! Yes! Come in – come in –
come in –ME!’
He did. Jack’s cool
clear spunk flooded into her, just as Jocasta’s orgasm flooded over her, and
through her, and made her feel as if she was floating above the bed, or maybe
above the town.
Still they moved their bodies together, slower, and slower,
less and less deep, the aftershocks of coming still causing tiny shudders to
run through Jocasta, whilst she could see Jack’s muscles also twitching a
little in his own rhythm. Eventually
they were quiet, still locked together cock in pussy, her head back on the
pillow, Jack still kneeling between her legs, but his hands now on the bed at her
waist level.
Finally, Jack withdrew, and just as he had before, slowly
licked his way back up Jocasta’s body, until he was again laying half beside
and half on top of her. Jocasta’s inner Watcher
wondered whether sweat was a sort of blood substitute, and if so, did Jack
realise that? He was nibbling gently on
her ear, and still occasionally making small contented sounds. She was still on a post-orgasmic high, floaty, a little remote from her surroundings, slowly and
aimlessly running her fingers over Jack’s torso, when she realised that down by
her hip, Jack’s cock was again hard and in full working order.
Jocasta’s pussy was still swollen and tender feeling, nerve
endings still on alert, and just at the moment she thought it was probably a
bit too sensitive to keep going! ‘Good,
Cass?’ whispered Jack’s voice in her ear.
‘Mm, the best!’ she answered, ‘but, um,’ she touched his erection
lightly with her fingers, ‘I’m not sure, I mean you’re - -, um.’ Jack’s face came into full view. He was grinning. ‘Ah’ve done it –
Miss McStay is totally lost for words!
Oh, Cass, Cass, I would love to keep fucking all night, but I don’t have
to. The hard on - it’s a vampire
thing; it recovers automatically, like wounds and things. Keep me near you like this and it’ll keep on
recovering and recovering, until I move somewhere a bit less arousin’, pet!’
‘Bugger,’ thought Jocasta, ‘we really will have to
change the syllabus!’ Then ‘Probably a
good job I didn’t say bugger out loud under the circumstances – he might have
thought it was an instruction!’, and she giggled. ‘That must be the reason they warn us to keep
young ladies away from vampires,’ she said out loud, ‘they could die of fatigue
on the first night!’
‘I think it’s more the habit of “Fuck ’em,
and suck ’em!” Jack said, touching Jocasta’s neck
with a fingertip, thoughtfully, and then grinning again. ‘But I gave that up a long time ago –
virgin’s blood doesn’t taste much different to anyone else’s – at least it
didn’t after they’d lost the virginity, and it would have been a shame to just
suck without the fuck!’
There didn’t seem to be an answer to that, and whilst
Jocasta tried to decide whether she should be shocked by what he’d said, Jack
went on ‘I think it began to lose its appeal after the eclipse that healed me
soul. Anyway, the sex is much better
with someone who’s done it before – a diet of virgins is pretty boring! And whilst I know you’re a bit knackered at
the minute, I’d much rather fuck you again, oh, any day this week, than suck
you! At least in the
“Lunch” sense anyway!’
Jocasta laughed, then said more soberly, ‘The way things are
at the moment, Bringers, Djinn, explaining to Roxy’s
parents why we need to go to Africa, preferably the day after tomorrow, and
other minor things, you might be lucky to get the chance any day this
week.’ ‘You’ll get through, you’re a
good Watcher, and I’ll help – I’ll even come to Africa, and face the sun, if
that’s what it takes, but we ARE going to do this again, aren’t we?’ ‘Yes,’ said Jocasta, ‘sometime, as long as
it’s not in the next hour, we must definitely do this all again!’
‘Well, if you’re likely to be up for it again in an hour,’
Jack said, ‘I’d better think about breakfast – I think that coffee’s a bit cold
by now, and to be honest I think I could do with something a bit more – ,’ he
paused. ‘Red’, said Jocasta. ‘Right,’ he answered, sounding relieved. ‘Actually I’ve a couple of units of only
slightly out of date O pos. in the fridge at my place, but you could do with
company overnight – safety in numbers, troubled times, and all that – I’ll come
straight back!’ he
slid out of bed, put on his t- shirt, and squeezing his jeans over his slightly
deflating erection, headed for the bedroom door. ‘It’s cold out there’, thought Jocasta,
‘still, he’s a Geordie, and so no-one thinks it odd if he doesn’t seem to feel
the cold.’
So it was, that Miss Jocasta McStay, Watcher, lay on the bed
in her spare bedroom, in a somewhat dishevelled state, and mused that someone
might be a little surprised if she gave them an honest answer next time she was
asked ‘But what do you find to do in Whitby in the winter?’