tagNonHumanFalling Prey

Falling Prey


This is a tentative, possible first chapter of a series. Further additions are dependent on any feedback this piece may receive.

Thanks to those who took the time to cast an eye over what follows. I listened to suggestions and took what I agreed with, so if you don't like this effort, then the blame lies solely with me.


In this part of the world the month of October means an abrupt ending to the days, with the night taking hold by 5pm, retaining its grip for long, dark hours with an iron hand before grudgingly letting go more than twelve hours later. For me it's the finest time of the year. The anticipation builds slowly as the summer softly wanes towards the autumnal equinox, following which will be time for me to hunt again. I know she's out there, somewhere close, going about her daily business with no inkling of what's to come; ignorant to the malevolence.

Ah, the anticipation as the hunger grows. I resist the urge to masturbate despite the craving for release. Blunting my instincts by succumbing could cost me my quarry. A winter without her is long, cold, and bitterly desperate for a creature such as me. I suffered lean years in my youth, in the time before I honed my skills; the darkest being Paris, 1917. That bitch of a café girl and her cats. Two years without feeding. A third would have been fatal to me. No, I wouldn't succumb to desire.

My favourite hunting ground in this modern age is the shopping mall. All the possibles herded into one small area. How very convenient for me. This year the stalk was quickly over. Appropriately I found her on the eve of Samhain.

I was sipping an americano -- a recently acquired taste -- at one of the ubiquitous coffee stalls when I sensed her. She was very close. All that remained was the simple matter of surveying the passing hordes, scanning the crowd, disregarding each disappointment one by one until I experienced a near physical shock and my heart quickened. It was her. She was so close I could smell her. My cock immediately stiffened to iron tumescence while my stomach tightened in sympathetic anticipation. The coffee forgotten I suppressed a groan and gazed at the quarry.

She walked with leonine grace that was instantly recognisable to me, moving with the elegance and style of that rare one, the one who can satisfy my hunger; my urges. I pictured her naked in my mind's eye; holding an image of her supine and used amidst a tangle of bedding; her hair messed; bosom heaving with spent exertion, her skin moist with her sweat and my semen. I growled, low and snickering before rising quickly to follow.

The most fragile time was coming; I needed to act with caution. The moment of meeting was crucial. In that instant she would make her decision. The plain and simple truth of it was that if she sensed anything at all about my intent; if she didn't like the look of me; if there wasn't an instant attraction . . . Then all would be lost for this season. There are tricks of the trade of course, but it has been known for the prey to sense the danger. And in that moment Schroedinger's cat is dead.

She browsed at length, slowly, moving from shop to shop with me never far behind. Eventually she paid for her parking and walked briskly to the stairwell. I followed, skulking down the dank-walled flights of concrete steps, always keeping a landing between us until she pushed open a door to the concourse and approached a car. Using the electronic key she unlocked the car door and, even as the lights flashed I'd committed the registration to memory. I smiled as she drove down the ramp towards the street level. I may be a creature of solitary habits, but I do have my drones in the upper world. My ability to seek out the corruptible, the easily manipulated has its uses. Finding her again would be a simple process, James, my tame policeman, with his predilection for pharmaceuticals would be just the tool.


The man, Matthew as he was known currently, approached Helen as she left the free-weights room. It was her second visit to the gymnasium of the three per week her self-imposed routine demanded. Nearing fifty, Helen found a strict exercise regimen kept her feeling invigorated and desirable. Being used to male attention since her late teens, Helen adored the compliments she still received.

"Excuse me." Helen turned at the hesitant voice. "Would you spot for me?" She surveyed the man, his expression expectant, standing by the weight-room apparatus. "The staff are busy with inductions," he continued, "and since there's nobody but us..." He shrugged.

"Well, I suppose I could," Helen eyed the bar and its encumbrance, "but it looks rather heavy."

"You just have to stand here," the man indicated the position with a nod of his head. "And just be ready in case there's a problem." There was a pause before he hurriedly added, "Which of course there won't be. This weight isn't an issue; it's just club rules, 'no bench press without a spotter'." The man grimaced and rolled his eyes. "Rules are rules I suppose. What do you say? Will you help?"

"All right then," Helen succumbed, "just remind me exactly what it is I have to do."

Ten minutes later, freshly showered, Helen was leaving the gym when bench-press man approached.

"Hello again," he smiled. "Thanks for the help; I appreciate it."

"No problem," Helen replied, turning to leave.

"Can I thank you by buying you a drink?"

The rebuttal formed naturally in Helen's throat; the instinctive rejection of a worldly-wise female. But, as she faced the man to let him down gently, she saw something in his expression; there was something in his look that caught her attention. Helen found herself suddenly intrigued by the stranger. She sensed some element of danger in him; deep and mysterious. There was something more, something undefined that her grasping mind found to be just out of reach. In the weights room, much to her surprise, Helen found her body responding to the man's physical proximity. He was a damn fine specimen; very easy on the eye; but then again he was at least twenty years her junior, and besides, Helen was married to Bobby. It was all very well forming the occasional, quick fantasy, but there was no way she would ever act on it. Then amidst the confusion a shock of emotion welled within her; a dissonance; a whirl of mixed feelings. Bemused by the clamouring of instinct and attraction, and despite a warning like a faint scent of smoke on the wind, Helen made her fatal choice

To her surprise Helen found herself with a vodka and tonic on the table in front of her in a quiet public house a few doors along from the gym.

"Oh shit," she muttered after a glance at her watch. Helen had enjoyed his company. So much so that without realising an hour and a half had passed, and during that time Helen had drunk rather more vodka than was wise. "I'd better get going. I have to drive and I've had a couple of drinks already." Helen was surprised at how reluctant she was to leave. She cursed for a second time. "Well," she began as they both stood. "I do have to go. Thanks for the drinks; it really has been fun."

"I enjoyed myself too, Helen." Matthew moved close and kissed her cheek. "I wonder if..." Matthew broke off.

"What? You wonder what?" Helen noticed Matthew's expression, seeing the disappointment on his face

"I don't usually come on like this," Matthew began, his colour rising. "I mean... Well, it's been fun. I like you; I enjoyed your company... Oh hell, what I'm asking is if you'd care to do it again? Have a drink after the gym I mean."

Helen found his discomfit amusing and more than a little endearing. What harm can it do? she thought.

"Sure, why not?" Helen's emphatic nod sealed her resolve. "I come in again on Friday. Is that good for you?"

"Sure. Great!" Matthew grinned. "Friday it is."


The moment of crisis is past. She's mine. Oh, but to see her in those clothes; the athletic goddess; the cleave of her cunt in those close fitting shorts so close to my face... I had to fight the urge to take her there and then. The desire to rip the shorts from her body and suck at her juicy peach was vast. I had to pour all my efforts into that damnable bar. The scent of her fresh sweat and those heavy breasts swaying under her tee-shirt... This one is going to be such a delight.

I admit to a smug satisfaction at my acting ability. My little boy chagrin was her Achilles heel. How shy and awkward I was. However it does best not be too conceited; the moment of asking her for that drink was close to failure. I'm sure she was going to deny me until I poured all my will into her. A dangerous moment to be sure, but now it's done.

Now to Friday A few more hours in my company will do very nicely. More time to impose my spirit upon her. I'm tempted to move us to the physical sooner rather than later. I yearn for a taste of her. Just thinking about her facial expressions as I push her further along the path to her downfall excites me. I want to touch myself... Just a little... Just a few tugs on my cock... It would be exquisite.


Helen experienced a flutter of pleasure as she watched Matthew at the bar. God but he's a magnificent creature. The thought took Helen by surprise. She grew ever more surprised as the fluttering moved to a deeper place, increasing in tempo a pulse that caused her to wriggle in her seat. Stop it, she insisted, just a drink, a harmless drink, nothing more.

"You okay?" Matthew placed the drinks on the table. "You looked pretty serious there."

"Fine, it's all fine," Helen breezed, smiling brightly as the lies floated from her mouth. "I was just thinking that it was quite a hectic week; I'm glad it's over."

Over the course of the next hour, with Matthew so close, Helen felt herself growing more uncomfortable. The pulse between her thighs grew insistent. Her clitoris throbbed with a life of its own. Then, her traitorous nipples added a further aching beat to her body's synchrony.

"You know, Helen," Matthew started, his voice low and heavy. "I... I..." He coughed to clear his throat. "Excuse me, but there's something bothering me and I just have to get it out in the open."

"What is it?" Helen asked, with her own discomfiture now acute.

"I know we've only just met. We're virtual strangers really, but..." Matthew's demeanour was awkward. "Well, it's just that I find you really attractive." He paused, obviously embarrassed. "There, I've said it. I'm sorry... If you want to go, then that's fine, but I just had to tell you. I've been sat here thinking about how sexy you are... Dammit, I can't concentrate."

Helen stared at the man opposite her. He felt it too? It wasn't just her? There was a frisson between them. The logical part of Helen's brain knew that she should leave now; she should go immediately. She should put down her drink; thank Matthew for his company, and leave. She should go without a backward glance. That would be the sensible thing to do.

What she did however was entirely different.

"I know what you mean. I feel it too. My body responds to you being so close." Helen's eyes widened. "What am I saying?" Vehemently she shook her head. "What am I doing?"

Then Matthew's gaze caught her eyes and she was lost.

"Phone him," Matthew murmured. "Phone Bobby and tell him you met some colleagues."

Helen failed to notice the change in Matthew's character, all she heard was the proposal. Gone was the endearing shyness, there was an indefinable element in his tone, a core of steel ran through his words. It was a command, not a suggestion.

"Yes, honey, I'll be careful. Love you too." After the call to her husband Helen turned the phone off and put it into her bag. She looked at Matthew who, wearing a smirk, appraised her. "I don't believe I just did that," she muttered. "And I don't believe I'm doing this."

"And just what are you doing, Helen?"

"I... I don't know. But I've just lied to my husband. I can't believe myself. It's like it isn't me. Someone else is doing this and I'm watching. Like a television programme. I can see how wrong this is, but I can't help myself. Oh dear God," she groaned.

"Come with me, Helen."

She took Matthew's hand. It was the first physical contact, other than the kiss on her cheek as they'd parted on Wednesday evening. It was the first touch and despite Helen's deep misgivings she found his firm grasp comforting.


How easy it was after all. I couldn't wait. I had to indulge myself. She looks edible tonight. And after all, I plan to eat her. Within half an hour she'll be squirming on my tongue. I'll make her writhe and groan and shout for me to fuck her. How I'll resist her? I don't know if I can. She's going to suck me, but I forbid myself to penetrate her. I can't, not yet, but I will. Soon I'll come inside her. I'll deliver my seed and extract the essence of her when I do.

Damn, I'm as hard as iron.


A brief taxi ride found Helen outside Matthew's home. She hesitated momentarily, as though contemplating her fate before moving quickly across the threshold with a determined stride.

"Nice," she nodded with approval, surveying the room.

"Drink?" Matthew offered?

"I think I'd better." Matthew poured a generous measure of vodka into a glass, and then, after a brief trip to the kitchen for ice and tonic, handed Helen the tumbler. "So..?" she ventured after sipping delicately. "What now?"

"Now..." Matthew moved to Helen. She stared at him as he calmly took the glass from her hand and touched his fingers to her cheek. "Now you kiss me."

Surprised at her own bold action Helen opened her mouth and accepted Matthew's tongue as they kissed. She pressed her body against his while their tongues swirled in a serpentine dance. Helen groaned as Matthew's hands roamed over her body. She felt his fingers slide down over her back before pausing to cup her buttocks. His fingers kneaded with firm insistence while, at the same time, Matthew forced Helen harder against his body. She could feel the length of him against her stomach; hard, huge, and persistent.

"Matthew..." Helen groaned, breathless with shock after the kiss, "I want you,"

"You want this?" Matthew took a step back, unzipping his flies, exposing himself.

"Yes," Helen sighed, her eyes shining with anticipation when she witnessed his arousal.

"Strip for me," Matthew commanded. "Strip for me and show me how beautiful you are." Falling deeper under Matthew's control and emboldened by lust Helen rushed to comply, reticence swept away in a rush of desire. Helen's own longing coupled with Matthew's domineering attitude, rendered shyness ridiculous. She, quickly naked, was gratified to hear Matthew's breath hiss sharply in approval.

"Magnificent," he murmured, "truly magnificent." His fist stroked up and down while committing Helen's body to memory. "Delectable breasts," he continued in the same low tone, "so big, so heavy." The stroking grew more urgent. "You're made for me, Helen. Your hips, your waist, all of you... You excite me." A low, dark growl rumbled from Matthew's throat. "Turn around," he murmured. "Turn and show me your backside."

Helen did as instructed, performing a slow 360 and giving him a view of her rear as she turned.

"You approve?"

Ignoring the question, Matthew ordered, "Sit. Sit on the couch and spread your legs for me. I want to see you."

Helen complied again and shamelessly, wholly unselfconscious, parted her thighs. Helen was proud to show him her body. She wanted to see his expression while he worshiped her with his eyes. The look of hunger, that desperate hunger sent an arterial burst of renewed lust through her body. Helen slid her middle finger into her mouth, wetting the digit with saliva before sliding it through the folds of her sex.

For a fleeting moment, a silent dove's wing of memory, Bobby's face arced across Helen's consciousness. "Bobby," she murmured.

Too late; she was already lost.

"I'm hot, Matthew," she whispered. "So, so hot, and so wet..." Matthew moved and stood between her feet before dropping to his knees. He pushed Helen's thighs wider apart, and then, with another growl at the sight of her protruding labia, took a slow, lascivious lick. He heard Helen's sigh as he lapped at her body. She groaned when he took several experimental dabs at her clitoris, the pink nub slick with Helen's own juice and his saliva. The woman quivered and grunted when Matthew sucked gently at the engorged bud. "Yes," she sighed. "That's lovely. Lick me, darling. Lick me... Suck me..."


Damn she's exquisite. I adore her big tits. That pussy is so slippery. I'm so close to owning her; so near to controlling her. I must resist the urge to fuck her. Too soon and it will be incomplete. This one is so exquisite nothing less than total ruin will do. The end will be more satisfying if I control myself now.

Oh, but she's so tempting.


The arousal slid from her body as Helen writhed and groaned.. A trickle burst to a torrent as Matthew tongued and fingered her sex. Eventually, with two of his fingers squirming insistently inside her, Helen's climax squirted viscous juice over Matthew's hand and forearm. She grunted and groaned in the ecstasy of her orgasm, and sighed into her lover's mouth as they kissed; his fingers still busy inside her body.

"Oh fuck," Helen grunted. "I thought I'd peed. God, that was so lovely." Her breasts trembled and swayed as she fought to breathe. "I want you now," she moaned. "Condoms... Have you..? Please, put it into me. I want you so badly..."

"Not yet," Matthew shook his head. "I'm going to make you wait. I want you to crave me."

"But I do want you," Helen blurted. "I'm so desperate."

Helen, normally so controlled, had never before begged for sex. With Bobby, it had always been good, but the heat and passion had long since cooled to a soft familiarity. She loved her husband, but the need for release had never been as urgent as it was now. Even in the days of their courtship Helen had never desired Bobby with such intensity.

"Would you like to suck my cock, Helen?"

Her tone was eager. "Yes, yes I would."

"Beg me," Matthew ordered and waved his length from side to side. "Plead, or I'll wank it instead."

"Please," Helen whispered. "Please let me. Please, I want to taste you, I want to taste your cock. I want to taste your cock and have you fuck me." Helen's expression was one of shock at what was for her, depraved language. "What have you done to me?" she asked. "I've never behaved this way before. I've never been so infamed."

"More," Matthew grunted. "Beg... Beg properly. I don't care what you haven't done before; it's what you're doing now that's important."

"Matthew..." Helen murmured. Oh God," she capitulated, "I'll do anything if you let me suck you." Helen's finger's moved in slow circles through her sodden pubic bush as she massaged herself. "Anything, I'll do anything you ask if you let me taste you. You can use me... You can use me any way you want... Anything you want to do, I'll do it."

Matthew laughed. It was a low, sinister sound. "Good, that's all good. Now, come to me and suck me. Suck my cock. Crawl to me on your knees to get to me and then eat my cock."


She's as good as I'd hoped; better than I'd hoped. Just look at her now; her lips tight around my girth. She's trying so hard to please me. What a contrast to the cool, controlled woman I first saw. Look at her now, fingering herself desperately while she slurps and slobbers over my meat. Not an hour ago she was merely enjoying a social drink, and now... Ah, that's so sweet my lovely cocksucker. I'm going to savour that first time I slide into you. I'm going to use you thoroughly and pump you full of my seed. I'll have the essence of you, my dear; I'll take the marrow from your being...

Report Story

bygeronimo_appleby© 11 comments/ 38351 views/ 13 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

2 Pages:12

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: