Dracula's Halloween Orgy, 2003

Just then a low flying harpy nicked Lorraina's shoulder with it's flapping wing. As it flew by, the contact with Lorraina knocked it out of it's smooth flight path just enough to dislodge one of the two gremlins that had become orally attached to its teats. Though the other still hung on, the harpy turned its head and gave Lorraina a nasty look, having lost one of her tit-sucking hitchhikers. She was not a happy harpy.

"Wow," Lorraina said, "I'd almost forgotten how wild these Halloween orgies of Dracula's can get."

"Yeah," Larry replied, "you have to really watch where you're going around here." Pulling her close to him, he grinned, "Maybe we should go off and be alone somewhere...like last year?" His eyes began to change, becoming lupine...a sure sign of his arousal.

"Jesus, Larry, we just fucked three times before we got here. I want to have more sex, too, but last year we missed the whole party. Let's just look around a little bit before we go private, shall we?" She tickled him under his chin and gave him a peck on the tip of his nose.

Larry growled his displeasure, but ultimately gave in. After all, his little run in with Hyde was certainly interesting, and they DID have all night.

When that same low flying harpy whizzed by again just to their right, Larry and Lorraina noticed with a smile that she'd regained her second nipple-hanging gremlin. Her happy grin was unmistakable. A lolling tongue always gives pleasure away. She was flying about dizzily again, caroming off walls and knocking over braziers. Neither she, nor her suckling titty-guests, noticed any of those incidental contacts. They were fused, glazed and deliriously oblivious, something that's quite common at Dracula's orgies.

That was when Larry saw two more of his old friends, Frankenstein and his "bad hair day" bride. When he pointed them out to Lorraina, however, they both realized that neither Franky nor his wife noticed them in the slightest. They were too busy in a strongly embraced sixty-nine, heads bobbing with happy conviction.

"Jeez....more blowjobs. Doesn't anyone fuck around here anymore?" Larry smirked, but Lorraina seemed intrigued, watching the two sewn-together lovers with their heads firmly entrenched between each others legs. They were squirming and moaning, oblivious to anything going on around them.

"Mmmm.....you know, wolf-boy, you don't eat me nearly enough. Maybe you should watch all the hungry mouths around here and get some pointers." She grinned up at Larry, again tickling him under the chin. "After all," she concluded, "a good tongue gets me so, sooooo hot." She walked away from him, wiggling her bottom enticingly, and meandered over to the Frankenstein couple writhing on the floor.

She sat on the floor beside the orally obsessed pair, watching them with rising passion. She seated herself at an angle so that she could watch Franky devour his wife. After all, she'd already seen a hummer being given tonight, now she wanted to see a man give some mouth action. And that's exactly what she saw.

Larry decided to sit at the other end of the licking duo, preferring to see yet another blow job. As they watched, Larry and his lady winked at each other, then hunkered down for some good old voyeuristic fun.

Lying on her back, Franky's big-haired bride had her legs spread wide, her thighs raised up with her calves interlocked behind Franky's back. Her square-headed hubby had his face buried deep in her gray streaked bush. His tongue belied his usual bulky, slow-moving pace. It was anything but lumbering. It flicked and slashed like a striking cobra, prying repeatedly into his bride's soft, wet folds and plundered deeply into her opening. In his maddened frenzy to lick her to orgasm, that energized tongue licked everything it could. Panting like a green-hued animal, he licked every inch of her dripping pussy and then some. Holding her upraised thighs tightly under his massive upper arms, he had exposed her entire crotch and rump to his oral ministrations. He licked pussy and ass alike. He stuck his tongue in here, then in there. He lapped moist pink petals of pussy flesh, then ran his tongue up and down her butt crack. It was all good to him. And Bride seemed to enjoy it equally as much. It was hard to tell if the flinching of her thighs was from sexual excitement, or from the tiny sparks leaping from Franky's energized neck bolts.

At the other end, Larry was watching yet another cock being expertly devoured. The sight of Franky's large, dangling scrotum was a bit rough for his sensibilities, but the masterful way that the Bride licked and sucked those dangling jewels was of utmost interest to him. It held his rapt attention. And the delightful sight of Franky's huge rod (the good doctor had certainly done him proud) slipping in and out of her hungry mouth was most arousing. Larry found himself glancing over at Lorraina repeatedly, hoping she'd see his interest and accommodate him as soon as possible. To his dismay, his woman was much too interested in the action between Bride's legs to catch his hopeful looks.

Larry certainly had to admire Frankie's style, though. Hovering his well-endowed scrotal area over his bride's face, he had some admirable hip action going. He was slamming his veined muscle into Bride's mouth with such energy that she could scarcely keep up with his movements. Her eyes seemed to adore that bloated sack that constantly slapped her face, and her mouth hungered for it almost as much as the throbbing shaft that drilled down her throat.

Occasionally, she indulged her hunger for ball-suckling. She'd gather her strength and push upward on Franky's hips with all her might, capturing his free swinging testicles in her mouth, savoring them, lapping them like one might lick spaghetti sauce off a meatball, then suck it before devouring it. She only left out the devouring part. She enjoyed those balls too much these days to lose them.

But always, Franky would hoist himself up, taking his jewels from her grasp, and reinsert his burning penis deep down her throat. Once safely back in her mouth, he'd again begin his rhythmic hip movements, humping her mouth as he slipped his tongue deep inside whichever part of her nether region was handy at the time.

Suddenly, Larry and Lorraina had their peeping ways interrupted. They were forced to move back, away form Franky and his sucking Bride, for the slurping duo began to quiver and writhe, like some great, undulating slug. Moans - loud and vulgar - emanated from both of them, along with gasps and cries of passion. While the cream filling Bride's mouth didn't burst from around her lips as they had from Hyde's joint-sucking maid, she did have to gulp quickly to avoid drowning in them. And the sloshing sounds of Franky's cock slamming home in her filling mouth were astonishingly clear. Likewise, the bubbling sound as Franky licked his bride's erupting opening was crystalline in its sharpness. As they rocked and slithered about the floor in their passion, they left a two-pronged trail of sexual fluids that foamed and streaked stickily on the cold stone floor, looking like the twin trails of two gigantic snails. When they'd finished their orgasmic display, having squirmed along the floor a good dozen feet from their original position, they slumped motionless, Franky's face glued to Bride's dribbling gash, and his own weakly drooling penis still occupying her mouth. Larry and Lorraina began the applause, followed immediately by the other partiers, who'd paused in their own carnal pursuits to see what two creatures sewn together from odds and ends of body parts and organs could accomplish in the sexual arena.

"Bravo! Bravo, my friends! That vas vonderful! Easily as entertaining as mummy's flatulent hummer last year! My compliments on an orgasm vell earned! A toast to our stitched together friends on a sixty-nine vell done!!! Everyvone...a toast to lust and sex...and to the sexy, lusty Frankensteins!" Dracula raised his glass of rich, thick blood in honor of his exhausted friends. Franky, his face still planted between Bride's legs, raised his hand weakly in recognition of the honor. His bride, now trying to remove Franky's shrinking - though still formidable - member from her mouth, likewise weakly raised a hand, then let it drop with a thud on his rock hard ass cheek. Thank the dark powers that be that dead people don't need to breathe, because they were both too exhausted to move, and would surely have suffocated with their faces so firmly attached to each other's drenched "happy places."

Larry was now hornier than ever. "Lorraina," he sighed in her ear after pouncing on her on the floor, "let's do it. Right here. Oh, hon, I'll fuck you sooooo good. I'm so hot for you, you little vixen. C'mon, let's give these monsters a REAL show!"

Coyly, Lorraina again tickled her wolf under his chin. "Now, Wolfie honey, not just yet. I want to watch some more. It'll get me soooooo hot. So hot, that when I'm finally ready to hump again, it'll be the hottest sex you've EVER had. It'll give you a stroke, it'll be so good. Just be patient, my hairy honey."

Larry nearly howled at the moon. His cock strained against his pants. He wanted Lorraina so badly. Her scent filled his flared nostrils. He could taste her on his tongue. He could feel her soft, pink pussy lips surrounding and squeezing his pounding erection, sucking it dry. He wanted to tear her clothes off and fuck her for the fourth time that night. It would make what happened in Dracula's coach seem like two teenagers getting only as far as first base.

So wrapped up in his carnal musings was he, that Larry lost track of the succulent Lorraina. She'd entered into the throng of sucking, groping, copulating bodies...and disappeared, swallowed up by the heaving mass. Again he growled his frustration...and began searching for her.

Bumped backward by two cautiously, gingerly humping zombies, Larry tripped over something. Arms flailing, he sprawled onto his back with a spine shattering thud. Gasping for air, his eyes searched skyward as he slowly caught his breath. Thus sprawled, his brain registered something different this year. Something was amiss...odd. Then it hit him. The daisy-chaining vampires he'd heard so much about the last several years. Usually they hovered just below the ornate, domed ceiling, entwined in a circle of lust, spurting and creaming until the floor-bound partiers had to gather up umbrellas for their own protection. But they were gone! However, the ceiling now vacated, other flighted party animals eagerly took the vampires' places.

Ghosts, wispy specters of every shape and form, fornicated eerily above the throng. Apparently, although humans can't touch ghosts, they can touch each other. Moaning white figures floated about the ceiling, coupling as energetically as their more solid counterparts below. Larry, still on his back, watched in amusement. Specters would soar briskly about until they saw a likely candidate for their carnal desires, and then swoop upon them - either from the front or rear, neither seeming to be a unanimous preference - and attach their various ghostly organs to their receptive target. It was an orgy of the ephemeral...a dance of spirits. And when the see through guests achieved orgasm, spurts of denser fluid were visible surging from one to the other. One tiny drawback, however...depending on your point of view. It seems ghost cum, though able to be contained in their gossamer genitals, is too dense to be contained by any other parts of them. Hence, once spook spunk rushes from its holding tank, it will sail right through the recipient like water through air. The end result....same as last year. Sexual fluids, though admittedly much thinner and slower to drop to the ground, again rained down on the frolicking guests. This time, however, it was more like a fine mist, with the occasional thicker droplet or two.

As Larry lay there, bemused, he watched the "ghost cum mist" float slowly downward. It was only when he felt its cool, slightly greasy touch on his face that he got mildly disgusted. In a flurry of motion, wiping his face and mouth with his hands, spitting at the thought of spook juice on his lips, he quickly rose to his feet, sputtering and cursing at himself for laying there so long. Clearly, at a party like this, where cum came at you from all angles, a bit more attention needed to be paid all around.

"Ahh, I see you've noticed our newest guests, Volfie. Like my vampire comrades, they are a bit...messy, vith their ...fun." Dracula's voice came from behind. Turning, Larry saw his host standing majestically behind him, one bride on each arm. He held them both firmly around the waist, claiming them as his own personal property.

"You should warn people about them. Yuck....ghost cum. It's disgusting," Larry said with a grimace, wiping a small, oily spot from just above his left eyebrow.

"I'm sure they think your cum is rather distasteful as vell, my friend. But, vait, now....vhere is your lovely Lorraina? I thought you two vere inseparable?"

"We generally are. But she wants to experience your party this year. She thinks we spent too much time alone last year and she missed a lot. So, off she went. And she's frustrating the hell out of me this year, too."

"Ahh...a lover's spat....how quaint," Dracula snickered, "But, find your lady and I'm sure she'll be taking care of your needs in no time. She adores you, you know."

"It's not a spat...." Larry began, but already Dracula was gliding off to attend to his other guests. With a smile, he noticed that as Dracula and his two brides sailed off, the Vampire Lord lifted the back of each bride's gown and fondled their two soft, lush asses openly. And Larry suddenly ached to be doing the same to Lorraina's fine bottom. He sighed, and tried to ignore the growing ache between his legs.

It was then that he noticed what he'd tripped over in the first place, that led to his facial ghost cum bath. The huge, stone foot belonged to the Golem, who's eight foot, concrete body was slowly moving back and forth at the hips. Larry didn't even know the Golem cold MOVE its hips, but there it was, in startling - though somewhat skin crawling - gray and black. And the recipient of those unnerving hip movements? Another of Dracula's "party toys"...this one a large, well built man. With his pants down around his ankles, the burly servant was bent over a serving table. The Golem was doing him right in his posterior quadrant! The man was grimacing in pain, as his stone lover had a cock the size of a drainage pipe! Still, the man was sighing, too, so all was not lost for him. But Larry just had to chuckle. Who would've thought the big, bad, tough Golem was gay! Of course, it could be bi, for all he knew, but it was much more amusing to think of the great crusher of skulls as having a soft spot for male sphincters! As frustrated as he was at not getting his wick dipped in the sizzling Lorraina, Larry was beginning to enjoy this perverted little bash of Dracula's. Amusement abounded around every corner!

Still, his hormones were going crazy. With all this sucking and fucking going on all around him, if he didn't get his cock in one of Lorraina's orifices SOON, he'd end up humping whatever creature sauntered up to him and gave him a wink....human...inhuman....or even....MALE! He shuddered at the thought. And he became even more determined to find his lovely lady.

Find her he did. She was again rapt with attention, eyes wide and mouth agape (Larry made a mental note of how inviting that open mouth looked). This time, her head cocked to one side, Lorraina watched as the Phantom of the Opera openly "interviewed" this year's ingenue. Strutting about the room, he was vainly showing off his physical strength by carrying his new singing sensation around the floor in his strong arms. However, those arms had help. The singing lass was impaled on his proud, operatic cock. Her legs stuck straight out to the Phantom's sides, calves and thighs rigid and toes curled with her passion, as he danced to whatever mental music played in his maestro's head. Only the lass's singing could be heard, not the silent notes she sung in accompaniment to, as she squirmed on the Phantom's mighty wand. Around and around they danced, she singing, he stopping every few steps to thrust into her tres forte, and moan in accompaniment to her lilting voice. Each time he thrust deeply into her, her vocal cords belted out ever greater decibels of song...until he climaxed into her. As she came in response to the searing flood inside her womb, they both belted out classic operatic history, to the delight of everyone in the room who wasn't equally carnally occupied.

"Aren't you horny, YET?" Larry shouted at Lorraina, straining to be heard over the singing, gasping pair.

"Horny? I'm going to fuck you til you drop, wolf of mine!" Lorraina grabbed his hand and just about bowled over other guests rushing him toward the entrance. "We're going to find a private room like last year and screw ourselves into a coma. If we're still breathing, later we can come back and watch more of the fun. But right now, you're MNE, wolfboy! HEEL!!"

Larry heeled...grinning from ear to ear. On the way through the crowd, he even howled again...this time not from frustration, but from expectation.

The room was so crowded that they stumbled and fell over other humping guests, or became aggravatingly ensnared in heaps of discarded clothing. Around them all manner of beasts and creatures were cavorting in hedonistic pleasure. It was Lorraina's turn to flail and fall, as she tripped over one of the legs of the Spider-Woman. Looking up from where she'd sprawled on her stomach, she got her first glimpse of fetishistic sex at one of Dracula's parties. Usually such acts were confined to private rooms, but the Spider-Woman had no such inhibitions.

The Spider-Woman's arms were occupied with a glass of champagne each, which she sipped as she put her admirers through their paces. Her six legs were all spread wide, some wearing stockings, some naked. Only one leg still sported a knee high leather boot. At the end of each leg, adorned or not, a male of one species or another was busily worshipping her feet. Five appreciative feet were being lapped and kissed and sucked on. One black boot was being tongued to a sparkling shine. She grinned down at the hard working, head bobbing foot lappers. But it was what was going on BETWEEN those six legs that most garnered her enthusiastic approval. Between her six long legs were five itching pussies....each one hungering for pleasure...and each receiving it in one fashion or another.

Three of those five needy slits had sniveling heads buried in them, tongues trying desperately to make them gush. She so loved a submissive slave boy or girl to lap at her fountains. The other two pair of pussy lips were being explored in other ways. One had a zombie's clenched fist deep inside it as he tweaked it's accompanying clit with his brittle fingers...and the other had two tiny puppet people playing with it. One of the tiny folk lay on the Spider-Woman's sparse triangle above the slit, sucking her clit in his tiny mouth, barely able to fit the entire bulb in it. The other tiny person had inserted his entire head inside her and was licking her from the inside. His licking must have been enthusiastic indeed, as the clit-gobbling puppet man outside seemed to be riding a rocky sea, clinging with tiny hands to tufts of pubic hair as that arachnoid mound undulated beneath him. Before the internal puppet male knew it, the Spider-Woman was using her vaginal muscles to suck him entirely inside her. His thrashing and squirming between those sticky walls in his feeble attempt to escape was the most exquisite sensation to her. Consequently, it was the first of her slits to erupt, ejecting the tiny man with enough force to shoot him some twenty feet across the ballroom floor. Her other four slits soon followed suit....five delicious orgasms in rapid succession. As the five consecutive climaxes rocked her quivering body, she spilled her drinks all over the two sweet maids who'd been diligently sucking her four oversized teats. It didn't stop their tongues for even a second. Apparently, it was pretty damn good being a Spider-Woman! One might even call a woman with five pussies a bit greedy! But here, at Dracula's party, there was nothing the least bit unusual - or greedy - about it.