Dark Alley
by Lisa Martin
But this place is pitch black. I have to crawl alongside the wall to find
the way out, can't see a thing. Silently I curse myself for getting into
this hole. I ducked into this alley when I noticed someone following me,
thinking the darkness would give me the cover I needed. It did, but now I
have to uncover and that's a lot harder to do. There are no streetlights
nearby, the ones that are there are broken. This is an abandoned part of
town, it used to be some kind of factory, but the vampires cleaned the
place out. Literally. Lately there have been rumors that a nest of
vampires is holding residence here, so I went to check the place out.
Stupid, I know, but there's no use in thinking about that now. The first
thing is to get out.
Man, it stinks. A smell of something rotting away, worse than the goriest
sewer. A shiver runs down my back as my mind comes up with the scariest
images. Dead bodies, dead, decaying bodies. Don't think about it, I urge
myself.
I am pressed against the wall, the dampness seeping through my clothes,
making the shivering worse. Well, at least I managed to escape my stalker.
The moment that thought crosses my mind, hands come on my shoulders. The
scream that wants to escape my throat is stopped by a hand over my mouth, a
very cold hand. Oh terrific, I came here to find vampires, instead some
psycho found me.
It's funny, but standing here, within an inch of losing my life, I'm not
scared. The feeling that it had to end this way is overriding anything
else. I stand and wait for my world to end.
For long moments nothing happens. Then there is something on my neck,
something soft. The idiot is nuzzling my neck! I want to ask it if it likes
my taste, but the hand is still on my mouth, so all that comes out is some
mumbling. I hear him/her grinning. It sounds amused, so I guess I'm
pleasing him or her.
Damn, I want to know if it's male or female. Or demon. Or vampire. All of a
sudden that becomes very important. If I am going to die, I want to know
who committed the crime. My arm is twisted roughly and I yelp in pain. Then
it is released and to my surprise a hand slowly rubs it. A touchy feely
psycho, this is getting better and better. Then my mind connects the dots
and the picture is not pretty. This one is going to have its fun with me
before slaughtering me.
I am turned around roughly and finally the hand leaves my mouth.
Immediately I scream, but it doesn't do me any good and neither does the
struggling. Its grip on me only tightens. I wish I could see the bastard!
"Hush," I hear. It's too soft to make out if it's a man or a woman. My
hands determine what my ears can't, it's a man. Okay, that's it. Stop right
now. Of course that doesn't happen, why should it? Nobody listens to
Xander. Or maybe I didn't say it.
Hands trail along my body, up and down. Another shiver runs down my spine,
a completely different one than the last time. My mind refuses to
cooperate, but my body has a mind of its own.
It's not that I'm squeamish about being with a man. Not that I ever was,
but I don't feel like throwing up thinking about it. To be honest, I've
been checking out guys for quite a while now, one in particular. And the
one currently plastered against my body isn't that one. But gods it feels
good. Imagine it's the guy who has been stalking your dreams for the last
month or so, my mind supplies. It's not much, but I can do that.
A cold hand beneath my T-shirt sends that image to high heaven. Or to low
hell, take your pick. His hands would never be that cold. They will be nice
and warm and gentle. Loving even. Oh hey, it works. My body responds the
way it always does when I'm thinking about him, like a rocket about to be
launched. Well, if I'm going to be dead soon, let's indulge in a fantasy.
Two hands beneath my shirt now, tracing lazy circles over my chest. Gentle
they are and definitely nice. My arms are pressed against his chest, so I
decide to copy the motion. I feel buttons and silently curse them. That
thing will take forever to take off. Yet, they also fuel my fantasy, this
is what he would wear. Lost in my imaginary world, I haven't noticed that
the hands have gone from my chest. They're now somewhat more south, busy
with unzipping my jeans. A slight panic attack hits me, but I shrug it off.
I'm dead anyway.
A chuckle as he goes down on his knees. What? Am I so ridiculous? Rational
thought decides to earn its pay-check and tells me he can't see a thing.
That may be so, but it still hurts.
My jeans are slid down, my boxers follow. He nuzzles my thigh, first the
left, than the right. Sparks are racing over my skin and I wouldn't be
surprised if I'm as bright as a light bulb. Flashlight!! His mouth engulfs
my member in one swallow and I'm a goner. He sucks on it, licks it, turning
me into a quivering mass of jello. I trust my hips forward; it's an
automatic motion, pure reflex. He doesn't seem to mind and sucks happily.
Who needs lights when there are a million stars shooting in front of your
eyes? It feels incredible, I never realized it could feel that way. The
stars dissolve in too many colours to count, it's like I'm flying amongst
them.
I whimper as his mouths leaves me, the urge to shout that it isn't fair is
overwhelming, but I press my lips together and wait. Yelling might not be a
good idea. My mouth doesn't stay closed for very long, as his lips descend
on me, a tongue prying my lips apart. Confused now. Kissing I didn't
expect, psychos don't kiss, do they? Certainly not this way, it's not harsh
and brutal, but almost tender. A slightly bitter taste fills my mouth,
something I identify as cigarette smoke, but there's another thing, a trace
of something coppery. Gods, he can kiss. It's a good thing I'm against the
wall; otherwise I would've been on the ground by now. My hands go to his
head. In a sudden moment of clear thinking I realize that in tracing his
features I can make out what he looks like. No such luck. My hands are
batted away and he breaks the kiss. Smart thinking Harris, now you've
pissed him off.
He turns me around once more and I brace myself for the moment my face will
hit the wall. He's angry, isn't he? Again he surprises me. An arm comes
around my waist and he pulls me against his body. Oh God! The feeling of
his hard cock against my ass is making all my senses burn, my heart rate is
through the roof, my breathing comes in shallow gasps. When his hand finds
my cock again, the world disappears around me. I am swept up in a wave of
pleasure, lifted so high in the air that I'm afraid to look down. The
pressure builds until it almost becomes unbearable. With a shout I come, a
second later I feel something wet against my back and hear a deep groan
coming from the man behind me.
Spent, we hang against each other, his face buried in my shoulder. I give
him a slight push. There's the sound of a grin close to my ear. He thinks
it's funny. Then another sound.
"I always knew you were fun."
You know the feeling of a thunderbolt hitting you? Imagine that tenfold. I
shove him away and run away as fast as I can, nearly tripping over my
jeans. With one hand I hoist it up and try to tuck everything in while I'm
on the run. Behind me I hear him laughing loudly.
"See you later, pet."
*************
The End
