Vampire Stag Weekend - Sex Stories

Vampire Stag Weekend

... 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, ...