From: darryman@aol.com (Darryman)
Subject: bob and carol and jack and jill prt 2 erotic horror
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
part 2
Carol raised her head from his lap, licking cum off her lips, and for an
instant his vision
was blocked. When Carol sat back the woman was gone.
"What the fuck?" Hurridly stuffing his deflating prick back in his
jeans, Bob
opened the door and stepped out of the car, eyes straining to see into the
surrounding
dark. Nothing.
"Bob, what is it?" Carol was standing on the other side of the
car, one eyebrow
raised, a single strand of seman clinging to her right cheek. Absently she
brushed it with
her finger, brought it to her mouth.
"I saw a woman. Watching us. Wearing a cape." Saying it out loud
it suddenly
sounded ridiculous.
"Countess Dracula? So where is she?"
I'm really going to beat the shit out of you one day. "I don't
know, but she was
here."
Another Carol shrug. "So now what?"
Bob ignored her, searching around the car for some sign of their
visitor. A few feet
from the car he found a footprint in a patch of damp earth. A woman's
dress shoe. "What's
that?" Bob asked smugly.
Shrug. "I hope she enjoyed the show. But what is she doing hiking
around out here
in heels?"
"I don't..." Bob stopped, his attention caught by a single light
showing through a
line of trees about a hundred yards back from the road. In the direction
of the footprint.
Jill watched them approach from a darkened window off the main entrance
hall. They
were both in their mid-20s, more Americans by the look of them. She loved
Americans.
They had so much...energy. Like that dark haired girl-she had taken hours
to die.
Strychnine. Such a sensual poison; turning every nerve in the girl's body
into a receptor of
pain. Making every kiss, every caress, every touch an agony. She had died
of pain and
exhaustion, her brother's sundered organ buried deep in her cunt. Mmm...
The man was just under six feet, with brown hair, an attractive if
somewhat sullen
face, and (from the glimpse she had back at the motorcar) an impressive
cock. But if the
man was good looking, the woman was frankly stunning. Only a couple of
inches shorter
than her lover (somehow Jill knew they weren't married), her serene face
framed by golden
curls, wearing a short skirt that revealed long perfect legs, unzipped
leather jacket, and a
low cut blouse displaying ample cleavage, she moved with the graceful
self-assurance of
someone who knew she was beautiful.
We really must take out time with them-Jack is always so
impatient. Her brother
had always been in such a hurry, and not very discriminating. Those awful
butchered old
whores. It wasn't until Jill joined her brother in his games that he began
to appreciate the
art of the hunt-and the kill. What was the name of their first
collaboration? Oh, yes. Mary
Kelly. But that was a long time ago.
The house looked like it was owned by the Addams family. It was huge, old,
rundown.
Only the intact glass in the windows and the lighted room on the third
floor showed that it
wasn't deserted. That, and the locked front door. There was no bell, just
an old fashioned
knocker, which Bob had been using in increasing frustration for the last
five minutes.
"Maybe they can't hear it?" Carol suggested.
"Of course they can hear it. They can hear it in fucking London."
The door opened.
It was Bob's woman from the car, still dressed in a black cape and
a black gown,
very tight with a plunging decollete, revealing a voluptuous body. She was
of average
height, with very black hair, dark brown-almost black-eyes, thick red
lips, and creamy
white skin. Carol's first thought was she was dressed for a costume party.
She was
shocked by her second thought-what would Ms. Dracula look like out of her
costume?
"Yes? May I help you?" The voice was cultured, aristocratic, very
English. Then
the woman smiled shyly and said,"Oh, you two are from the car. I'm sorry,
I didn't mean
to spy. But this is a private road and we have few visitors. My name is
Jill, by the way."
"Bob. And this is Carol. Private road? I'm sorry, I knew we took a
wrong turn."
"Yes-you did." Jill's eyes seemed to flash a private amusement, as
if she had just
made a joke. Her gaze flicked downwards to Bob's crotch for a second, and
Carol knew
she was remembering the blowjob she'd witnessed. "To get back to the main
road, just
turn around and..."
"I'm sorry, but our car is broken down. We were hoping to use your
phone..."
"Sorry, we don't have a phone. But please, do come inside. I'm
sure we can
arrange something."
Christ, Carol thought, haven't we seen this in a horror movie? But
then Jill reached
out and gently took her arm, leading her inside, and she had another
unexpected thought: I
wonder what it's like to eat pussy?
Jill lived with her brother Jack, who was out, but would be back late.
There was a guest
bedroom on the second floor ("the third floor to you Americans"). They
really must stay
over, the car could be dealt with in the morning.
As Jill showed them around, apologizing for the lack of light
("electricity is such
an expense") Carol found herself getting more and more disoriented, as
images of Jill,
naked, gasping in pleasure, kept flashing through her mind.
What the fuck is this? she thought as Jill handed her a glass of
brandy and she
found her eyes wandering to Jill's half exposed globes. I never thought of
myself as bi
before. She downed the drnk quickly, then yawned.
"Sorry. Long day."
"No, no-I should apologize, prattling on like this. You two should
get to bed. You
can meet my brother in the morning. Let me show you to your room."
"We're sorry to be a bother," Bob said, leering down at their
host.
"No bother. We enjoy having attractive guests. " Jill smiled at
Bob, then turned to
Carol. Speaking softly, so that only Carol could hear, she added, "We are
going to enjoy
having you especially my dear."
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