A Voyage into Night Ch. 01

bycoldcomfort©

From her vantage point Isobel saw Kira helplessly staring up into the night sky. She also noticed a change come over the woman, who seemed to hesitate, her mouth hovering less than an inch from the instructor's throat. Then, bending her head, her mouth gently brushed against Kira's neck and her tongue flickered out to taste the taut skin, a long, savouring lick that elicited a low, wordless moan from Kira.

With her free hand the woman began to explore the young woman's body, holding and massaging a breast through the fabric of the t-shirt. Isobel could see Kira's body shaking and she couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to be the subject of this woman's ... attention.

Again the woman appeared to hesitate, her mouth hovering over the neck of the instructor. For one rushing moment Isobel believed that a resolution was about to be reached but, instead, the woman pulled Kira away from the railing and, not ungently considering her hand still retained tight hold of the girl's hair, led her to the nearby table. Pushing her down onto it the woman quickly began work on Kira's trainers and jeans. Very soon these were heaped carelessly on the floor revealing the instructors long, smooth legs and dark red underwear.

The table was hard and uncomfortable and yet she squirmed as though luxuriating on a soft bed. With no instructions she peeled off her t-shirt over her head, dropping it to the deck. Her red bra matched her panties and isobel could see her erect nipples straining through the material. There was no denying that the young woman looked delicious stretched out like that under the night sky.

The dark woman took a moment to take in the view, her hands tracing patterns on Kira's bare legs, her thighs. Bending down she slowly kissed an ankle, before slowly moving her way up; her eyes, now seeming to glow red with hunger, never left those of Kira who watched, breathless and helpless as the woman parted her legs, and traced slow, gentle kisses, up the inside of her thigh. Her hands went to Kira's panties, there was a soft whisper of tearing fabric, and that too was floating down to join the other debris on the floor beneath the table. The woman's blond curls between her legs glistened wetly in the moonlight. The woman moved her hands over the young woman's body. The moans of the helpless girl increased when the woman, achingly slowly, finally settled down to taste between her legs. Kira arched her back, letting loose another deep groan as she felt the woman's tongue begin to make delicious circles of fire around her clit. The woman pressed her mouth harder, eagerly tasting the young woman's hot, wet sex.

Isobel had never been so turned on in her life: the eroticism of the image before her, mixed with the inherent danger she was sure the woman presented, made a potent cocktail. She could feel evidence of her own arousal between her legs.

For a while the deck was full of Kira's soft, gentle moans and the soft lapping sounds as the woman teased and tasted. Isobel could see the pace was quickening, Kira's gasps becoming more frantic. Then, suddenly, the woman moved her head to one side, Isobel had a brief, startling image of the woman's mouth opening wide revealing sharp, brilliantly white, teeth, before the woman pressed her mouth against the hollow of the girl's hip. The effect was immediate, and dramatic. Kira's body went rigid, as though plugged into a current, and her back arched violently. Her mouth opened, straining to make a scream that refused to come. When a sound did finally emerge, it was one Isobel had never heard before: a deep, wordless cry of release, of passion, pain and fear, all entwined as to be indistinguishable from each other.

The woman reached up with one arm and pushed Kira flat against the table, holding her there while she fed. Isobel saw dark liquid drops spill from the table onto the floor and, when the woman again looked up there was no denying it, her eyes were deep, burning red. one more explosive gasp and Kira relaxed back onto the table, her body still apart from a slight trembling.

Again time appeared to lose all meaning and Isobel had not idea how much time had past before the dark woman finally looked up from her task. Her mouth and chin were soaked in blood, the colour shocking against the paleness of her skin. Standing up she stretched and, for the first time, made a sound, a long, sensuous sigh of contentment. Kira stared at her in fascination, all fear gone now. The woman walked slowly around the table, her hand trailing along Kira's outstretched body, only her black fingernails touching the skin, leaving scratch marks that shone faintly in the dim light. From time to time the woman would bend to plant small kisses along the girl's body: her stomach, toned and muscled, her chest. Kira's ponytail had come undone and now the woman ran her hands through it before again taking hold. This time the kiss was deep and passionate, a reward. Kira responded enthusiastically, her tongue exploring the dark woman's mouth, cutting herself on the woman's sharp teeth. Kira reached up to embrace the woman, pulling her close. When, at last, the kiss broke, the two women held each other, blood smearing their mouths as they gazed into each other's eyes. Then, slowly, langorously, Kira let her head fall back, her hair spilling out like a waterfall. Her throat bared, offered.

The woman took her time. With one hand she traced the contours of the young woman neck, feeling the warmth, the pulse. Then, and only then, did she look up from Kira, straight into the eyes of the watching Isobel. The moment drove the breath from the doctor's lungs and she held onto the rails for support.

But she did not look away as the dark woman opened her mouth and, with her gaze still fixed on Isobel, slowly sank her teeth into Kira's outstretched throat. Again the young instructor stiffened, again she let out a deep cry of release. But this time, Isobel knew, the dark woman would not stop. Isobel watched a trickle of blood spill out and trace a path down the girl's neck where it was lost in the dark crimson of the her bra. Kira began to shudder, an orgasm rippling through her weakening body as her eyes slowly closed.

Still the woman fed; and still Isobel watched. It was only when the woman herself closed her eyes, lost in the pleasure of her feast, that the spell was broken. Reality finally came crashing back, as did the sound of the outside world: the engines, the sea. And under it all, barely noticeable, was the gentle moans of a woman being slowly drained of blood.

Isobel finally found the strength of her legs and, lurching to her feet, made her way along the deck. At anytime she expected to feel the grasp of the woman's touch, pulling her backwards from safety. However she made it to the stairs and pulled herself up them seeking company, seeking life. In the distance, far behind her, she was sure she heard a sudden splash of water followed, a short while later, by another.

When she finally made her cabin she jammed a chair against the door and huddled in the corner, too terrified to make a sound. There she sat, trembling in the darkness, as the hours of the night ticked away. At one point, in the deepest part of the night, there came the sound she had most dreaded; the sound of movement outside her cabin. She could see a shadow block out the light from beneath her door. There was a pause, and then three clear knocks echoed around the room. As terrifying as the sound was, what horrified her most was her own reaction to it; she found that she was half way across the room before she came to her senses. She froze, the full horror of what she had been about to do slowly sank in. To open the door would have been madness, literally suicide. Then why...?

She stood there in the dark of her cabin, aware of every noise she was inadvertently making: her breathing, her heart, even the creak of the floor whenever she shifted her weight. After only a few moments, the shadow moved on, but Isobel remained exactly where she was until she could be sure the night, the longest in her life, was over.

When she finally heard the murmur of awakening people she was able to summon up the courage to open the door and look outside. There, on the floor next to her cabin door, a book was propped up against the wall. With shaking hands she bent to pick it up: it was her own copy of the Fall of the House of Usher. And on its front cover someone had left a message. But it wasn't just from someone, Isobel knew that. It was from her. The front page was sticky to the touch. And there, on the corner of the front page: a kiss. Red and bloody and wet. Isobel touched it with trembling fingers and then, without fully realising what she was doing, she raised it to her mouth to taste.

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