Today's snog is from my vampire ménage short story "Fourth World", available in my collection Body Electric. Just to warn you - it's not a nice story and definitely not a romance. It's hot, though!
When you get through here, head over to Victoria's Sunday Snog page for links to lots more kisses, some romantic, some naughty, some (most likely) downright filthy!
She keeps her body pressed against ours in the lift. To my surprise she hits the button for the car park. I’d assumed that we would take a cab. The trip down takes forever. I find it difficult to breathe. Surreptitiously, I check the mirror. Is my boner visible?
When you get through here, head over to Victoria's Sunday Snog page for links to lots more kisses, some romantic, some naughty, some (most likely) downright filthy!
She keeps her body pressed against ours in the lift. To my surprise she hits the button for the car park. I’d assumed that we would take a cab. The trip down takes forever. I find it difficult to breathe. Surreptitiously, I check the mirror. Is my boner visible?
Her eyes meet mine in the glass. Her
full lips curl into a knowing smile. There’s something odd about
her reflection. It wavers, flickering in and out of focus. I shake my
head and the effect disappears. I must be more drunk than I thought.
As we exit from the lift lobby, still
arm in arm in arm, a monstrous black Mercedes glides up to the curb.
The door swings open. “Get in, please,” she purrs. I slide across
the tooled leather, impressed despite myself. Mai, in the middle,
cuddles up to me. She pulls Jeremy closer. The automobile floats up
the helical ramp and out of the garage, nearly silent. There’s a
tinted glass barrier. I can’t see the driver. Mai flicks her tongue
over my earlobe, sending a bolt of lightning to my groin, then makes
a wet trail down the side of my neck.
I smell her perfume, jasmine edged with
something sharper, less sweet. My heart slams against my ribs. “Who
are you?” She must be someone’s daughter or wife, a general or a
politician. Or maybe the latest pop sensation, though her classic
style argues that she’s older than her body would suggest.
“I’m nobody. Just a woman looking
for a good time. Sanuk sabai. You understand?”
“Yes, but...”
“Hush, Harry. You talk too much. You
should be more like your friend. A man of action.”
I turn to see Jeremy’s hand wandering
up her silk-clad thigh. I’m surprised by his daring. Back at school
he was always the shy one in our crowd. I was the one who took the
initiative.
His eyes are closed, his lips parted.
His trousers rise up from his groin in an imposing peak. Mai cups his
bulk and squeezes. Jeremy groans. His hand slips under her skirt.
Jealousy sizzles through me. A red
mist clouds my vision. “Never mind,” says Mai, her hand on my
thigh, her lips fastening on mine.
Her kiss claims me. I try to take
control, to thrust my tongue between her ripe lips, but she playfully
forces me back, then plunders my mouth with her own. She tastes sweet
but strange, the fruity remnants of her wine not quite hiding a
metallic element. My cock surges, painful and eager, trapped in my
tight briefs.
Blinded by the fall of her hair around
my face, I grope for her breast. Her flesh is firm and elastic under
my fingers. Her nipple juts through flimsy barrier of her dress. I
circle it with my thumb and she moans into my mouth. I pinch the
delightful nub and she bites my lip, hard enough to draw blood. I
want to protest, to push her away, but she’s far stronger than I
expect. Her kiss becomes more heated, more desperate. My pierced lip
throbs. Something’s not right, I think, but then her hand settles
on my cock and all thought vanishes.
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