Loneliness Loves Company

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Two beings come together to banish loneliness.
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The soft glow of the candles illuminates her skin, as she sits in front of the mirror of her vanity. A gentle sigh escapes the Cupid's bow mouth, a sound of quiet remorse while her nightly ritual comes to a climax. The almost scalding hot bath had left a luminous red glow upon her skin, teasing out the usually translucent freckles upon her chest and shoulders. Wisps of hair tickle her nape as they fight the binding that keeps the rich brunette waves from tumbling free. Lavender and ylang ylang whisper along her skin as she slowly works the cream into the supple canvas. The scent brings back memories of lovers; of nights spent being lavished with pleasure, of being the single most important being in a man's world. Then Cassandra was more than just a lone figure in front of this mirror, but a woman strong and beautiful, a woman fervently desired by all.

A single tear drips down from one eye while more pool in the azure depths. So many nights she has sat here, wondering what could have changed the wicked hands of fate. What could have happened differently if she had been granted a different lot in life? Would she have found the one man that would mean the world to her, rather than being the trophy upon so many men's arms? Angrily she brushes the tears away and stares ferociously into the eyes of her reflection. "Stop sniveling! Stop crying over the past! Love wasn't meant to grace your superficial life!" Cassandra picks up the bottle of lotion and hurls it across the room with a cry. Whirling back around, she looks at the reflection with a critical eye, studying it as she has every night since. Her curves were ample: had become more pronounced as she grew from adolescence to womanhood. She sits up straighter, smoothing her hands down her arms and around her neck and chest, caressing the pendulous mounds. Her iridescent orbs follow each movement as her fingers trace around to her generous bottom. Cassandra was no slight waif of a woman, but the years had taught her that men prefer grasping warm flesh to stiff bones. "But who is here to grasp my flesh now..." she sighs.

Loneliness washes over her like a living thing, until again tears threaten to spill from her eyes. Getting up from the bench, she grabs her robe with a flourish and puts it on, the satin whispering along her skin. She stalks to the large picture window, looking out on the dark night before her. The moon shines brightly, illuminating the valley for miles, cars on the highway buzzing by, their lights making a red and white snake in the darkness. "I bet each of you has someone waiting for you. Someone to warm your bed at night." Cassandra turns away from the window and crawls onto the bed. The tears that had threatened fall as she closes her eyes and hugs the pillow tight.

His feeding done, he wafts off into the night, riding upon the soft night breeze. Life once again courses through his veins, sending a feeling of exuberance and wonderment throughout his being. Humans, they are such simple creatures, yet so complex in their needs, he muses as the air buoys him along. Thinking back on his deeds of the night he smiles, remembering how insistent and clumsy the young couple had been, caught up in the rapture of first love, unknowingly beckoning him with their lust. He was called like a moth to a flame as he awakened from his daily slumber. As a gift, he enveloped them in a cocoon of warmth, giving them each a "perfect" first experience, as a thank you for such a banquet.

Then there had been the angry wench, whose boyfriend had again been caught being unfaithful. That feed had been explosive and almost painful, the heat of her fury rising above her so that all he need do was be a voyeur to her dream and let the feeling burn through his gut. Their emotions fed him, kept him "alive" in a sense that no mortal being could understand. Did he need them? No. But, he chuckled to himself, it made the eons of existence more bearable. Yet, even the brightest of emotions could not hide the vast emptiness that dwelt within him. He gobbled up their passions like a starving man, wanting that rush of sentiment like an addict their drug. He could use his powers to fabricate anything in their mind, anything to make the feeling more intense, to make him feel more alive. But each day as the sun rose from its slumber he was chased back to his chambers and away from the land of dreams to dwell again on his singular life.

Turning on the wind he left that train of thought, unwilling to give up the heat of his stolen anger just yet. That was when he felt it: a twinge, a dull ache pressing against his skin. Misty eyes roamed the night sky, searching for the source. There. A slight hint of lavender along with a steady throb of solitude. His own anger rose to the front, and he turned away from the scent, not wanting to dwell further into such disturbing territory. But as he careened through the night, it pulled him, leaving a taste of something indescribable on his tongue. Knowing regret would come heavy after the feed, he let his form wander closer, riding the bouquet of lavender and ylang ylang to the source.

Drifting through the window, he finds her lost to dreamless sleep. Searching the mind of this mortal, he finds a multitude of memories, most meaningless and empty; moments spent with this or that wealthy male. Emotions whirl throughout her, all heavily cloaked by a sense of isolation and unworthiness, and of need for something more. Intrigued, he leaves her thoughts and focuses on her corporeal form. Uncommon beauty is the first thought upon his mind as he glides over her skin; smiling as the slightest touch of his essence raises the fine down of her flesh. Her instantaneous response further fascinates him. An almost unconscious decision is made to feed upon her, though he has been fully satisfied. She draws him and awakens in him a desire to know what flavors she will arouse upon his palate. His misty form surrounds her, holding her in a lover's embrace. His lips find her full mouth and the dream is unleashed...

The room is warm and welcoming, with candlelight dancing against the dusky red walls. There she stands, her white nightgown billowing in the breeze of the open balcony doors, the amber waves of her hair rustling softly. Soft music seems to emanate from the walls, lulling her thoughts and making her eyelids heavy as her hips gently sway back and forth. A rich musk floats upon the air, playing with her senses and opening her eyes to reveal the blue depths. The wind picks up its intensity, no longer just playing with her gown, but swirling it around her, joining in the primal beat of the music. It hugs her curves, sneaking and sliding around the dips and flares of her feminine form, perking the buds of her breasts and stealing the breath from her lips.

Buoyed up by the rush of blood through her veins she twirls, beginning a slow tango. Muscle and sinew contract and extend in a graceful motion, her feet weaving an intricate pattern upon the soft carpet as she moves farther into the room. The music caresses her skin, urging her on further, causing her heart to beat a similar tattoo. Sensuality flows from her flesh and the scent of sex lingers on the air as moisture gathers in the most intimate recess of her body.

Too hot for the confines of the thin linen, she sheds it as a chrysalis. A warm flush spreads along her skin and the dance begins building towards its crescendo. She moans in rapture as she tumbles onto the pile of pillows that serve as her bed. Closing her eyes she lets her hands roam against her skin, but even the slightest touch of such satin is too much. Her ample mounds rise and fall erratically and her fingers find the apex of her pleasure. Cries erupt from her lips, and she bucks and writhes frantically. Her full thighs open and close as she searches for release while liquid honey drips from her body. The moans get louder and her belly clenches as the fire builds higher and higher inside her. Pins and needles prick her flesh and even the soft touch of the pillows beneath her is painful as she struggles in frustration for the glorious end.

She lies trapped in desire, while around her the shadows on the wall gather and twist forming a dark and sinewy shape. Silently it floats over her and darkens, seeming to gather substance. As it passes over, a shiver runs through her body and she shakes hard, holding her breath against the sensation. Fingers of shadow lengthen and stretch, forming hands that caress her ankles and up her calves leaving a path of gooseflesh in their wake. In her frenzy, she's oblivious to the strange touch beyond the fact that with it comes even more bliss and an ache so deep inside that it dances the line between pain and pleasure.

"Cassandra..." it whispers against her flesh, drawing the word out into a feather light melody upon her ears. Her thoughts clear momentarily in recognition of her name, yet her body is lost amid the rolling sensations. The voice gets stronger as the form becomes more solid, its smoky limbs taking shape and becoming more of this world. Fingers knead the tender bones of her feet, stealthily moving forward up her body, twining around the silk of her skin. Moans of bliss break free from her lips and Cassandra squirms, unable to remain still as each touch brings wave upon wave of exquisite need.

The being solidifies, his body hard and yet soft; a core of steel incased in velvety blackness. An aura of heat and pleasure surrounds him, rippling along his flesh, following the line of his hands and then jumping to Cassandra supine form. She cries out as the flames flicker against her once his eager fingers touch the inside of her thighs. Blindly she lashes out, reaching for some sort of hold onto reality as her body reaches a fever pitch.

He settles between her quivering limbs, the moisture dribbling from her center making his fingers slick as he slowly traces her anatomy. Up and down, slowly circling to the straining nub, then flicking it back and forth and watching Cassandra writhe. A jumble of words escape from her lips, meaningless nothings as she squirms and wiggles to finally gain release. Leaning forward, his tongue slithers forth and gently lashes at her exposed flesh, sending her off the pillows and into a frenzy. Quickly he moves forward and strikes, plunging his hard length deep within her, further intensifying the sensations. A feeling of immense fullness takes a hold of her and she bucks hard, driving it even farther inside of her. Cassandra's eyes pop open and cries erupt from her lips as her body is wracked with wave after wave of pleasure. Blue orbs meet the prismatic depths of the shadow's eyes and again she is lost, as her body is taken to the limits of human sensation.

A smile crosses his black lips as he feeds from the energy of her pleasure, all the while morphing and thickening his manhood, stretching her farther, forcing her deeper into orgasm. He rides her violently, each thrust becoming more and more forceful, driving himself faster and deeper inside her core, coercing more from her already weakening body. With one final thrust he leaves his seed, overflowing her throbbing womb, and draining the last of her pleasure, putting Cassandra into a deep sleep.

Gathering himself from her body, he leans over her open thighs and bites down on the exposed flesh, leaving his mark upon her. Engorged on sex and power, he begins to dissolve. Cassandra lays quietly, her breathing returning to normal under his steady gaze. Her lips curve into a satisfied smile, taking the place of the loneliness that he had first encountered. Reaching once again into her mind, he finds that emptiness still within her, the isolation that is so much like his own. He leaves his mark there as well, and whispers a promise to return. Leaving her thoughts, he drifts upon the wind, racing the sun as its first ray breaks the horizon.

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