Vampire Stag Weekend - Sex Stories

Vampire Stag Weekend

Vampire Stag Weekend 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 ...