Dracula's Daughter - Sex Stories

Dracula's Daughter

... candlelight, and sometimes one of them was John's. Neither sleeping nor waking, he acted without thought or memory. The countess sprawled on red sheets, her sleek white body bridging the space between both other men, one of them behind her, flexing his hips, the creamy roundness of her bottom splayed in front of him while she buried her face in the lap of the other, moving her head up and down while his eyes rolled and he exhaled gasps and sighs. Both strangers looked vaguely familiar to John and he thought perhaps he had seen them some other time. But of course he had, he realized, he must have been there when they met the countess. Probably he had even introduced them. Half-remembered fragments of similar introductions crossed his mind and were instantly forgotten. The countess growled under her breath like an animal. Now John was with them, lying on his back, the countess straddling him on top, her head turned and mouth open to receive one of the other men while the second positioned himself behind her, all three of them on her and in her at the same time. She was a bright white flame in the dark, but when her lips parted he saw a deep, black void inside her that would never be filled. Naked flesh lolled against naked flesh as the smell of sweat saturated the room. John realized how sore he was--and how exhausted. The other two men looked spent as well, but none of them stopped. It wasn't until the countess seemed to tire that anything slowed, but rather than quit she ...

... turned and kissed one of the men on his neck--no, more than a kiss, John knew. The man gasped but could not cry out. He twisted in a half-hearted attempt to escape but soon his flailing became mere reflex, and in a minute he was empty, used up, discarded. The countess let him drop to the floor. John and the other stranger looked at him with glazed eyes that didn't really see. The countess seemed refreshed--she positively gleamed. Her body looked full and ripe as she fell onto John again, dragging the other man in the fray at the same time. Back and forth she went, kissing one then the other, touching one and then the other, drawing one into her embrace and writhing underneath him until he could take no more and then trading him away for the other. Her kiss tasted bitter but her body was sweet, in the same cloying, narcotic way it always was. He kissed her naked breasts and her sharp nails crisscrossed him. He knew that if she asked him to he would keep doing this until he died, but only as he sensed the approach of dawn did he notice that it was the other man who was dead, his unseeing eyes staring at them, just like those of his friend, as John and the countess continued making love through the remainder of the night, the countess' body more luscious than ever, his own expended. They lay together in the last hour and she stroked him tenderly, whispering. "Soon you'll kiss the sun goodbye and join me. We'll sleep side by side through the day and share glorious, unending nights, ...