My Little Ventrue Pt. 05 Ch. 10

Fiona, or Vrall, started to change. Maybe, because he was more awake, or from the light bouncing down the hallway, and little bits of the sun were working their way through the rest of his apartment. Whatever it was, as the room became lighter, until a normal human could see, Fiona was no longer the spider monster.

Out from under his bed, crawled the redhead. Wearing jeans and a jacket, she was the epitome of a casual, fun-loving gal. A tired gal, though. He could see the stress on her face and body, the weight in her steps. The strain of stress didn't erase the smile from her face, though, as she hopped onto his bed to sit at its edge.

"Fancy!" she said, accent returned. Kat returned from her outing, and hopped onto the bed, and looked at the short woman. Fiona returned Kat's curious look, tilting her head to the side. "Never seen a cat get along with a werewolf before."

"Kat is brain damaged, I'm pretty sure." He shrugged, and sat back on his bed, as well, with Kat between him and Fiona. Kat seemed hesitant with Fiona, looking her up and down. With Jessy, Kat was more than content to get affectionate. Fiona was giving her pause. Strange.

Fiona held out her hand for the cat, and Kat sniffed it several times, before at last rubbing her cheek against Fiona's hand, inviting pets. The redhead giggled, and began to pet the stupid feline. Feet bouncing against the side of the bed, the monster smiled at Eric, and looked him up and down several times.

"I still owe ye a date," she said. "And after that night with Jessy, I think it's safe to say we can escalate!" Chuckling, Fiona turned on the bed a bit, pulling up one knee onto the blankets.

"You look exhausted."

"So do ye!"

"I work nights, Fiona. I'm running on two hours of sleep. I should go back to bed."

"... can I join ye?" She giggled, but she also looked down, and started tracing shapes into the blankets. Giggling was her nervous tick, then. Shy? No, but inexperienced.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said.

"Ye dinnae?" She frowned for a moment, before slipping out of her jacket, and setting it aside. Now, wearing only a t-shirt, she pulled that off as well, all with the grace of a drunk — or very tired — college girl. Her massive bra exposed, she lay on her back, making grabby hands at him. "Dolareido is called whore town, right? I'm very much looking forward to enjoying some of that."

"You really... should find someone closer to your age." And maybe someone with a disposition a bit closer to yours. Maybe a giant sunflower.

"Come on, ye telling me ye dinnae want a piece of this." She rolled over enough to stick her ass out. The jeans hugged her tight, showing she was a very beautiful woman. A beautiful monster, with a sunny personality he couldn't wrap his mind around.

"I'm serious, Fiona. This is a mistake. I'm a fair bit older than you, and—"

"I dinnae care. Ye're handsome, and ye're nice, in yer own, strange way." She sat up straight again, reached behind her, and tossed her bra to the side. "I'm tired, sore, and I... I feel like I owe ye. I should have told ye more, before I went into hiding. From now on, I'll be around more; so will Athalia and Mark."

Kat, perhaps psychic and predicting, jumped off the bed and left, giving Fiona free room to crawl toward him. Suddenly, Eric found himself caught between staring, and laughing. It was true that Fiona was gorgeous, the frizzy red hair, the freckles, the pale skin, and the enormous breasts swaying beneath her were an overpowering combination of beautiful. But she had zero grace, and her attempts to be seductive were atrocious. Her cat crawl might as well have been a donkey crawl.

"Fiona, come on, I'm serious."

She'd gone deaf; his words weren't landing. She crawled onto his lap, smiling at him as she put her knees on either side of his legs, and hooked her arms on his shoulders, hands crossed behind his neck. Her body was on display, and she leaned back until her heavy breasts flattened against her torso with their mass. God damn.

"Ye didnae enjoy that night, with Jessy and me?" she said.

"I did. A lot."

She took his words for invitation. Hands found his, and guided them to her body, her bare stomach, her soft skin, and her luscious breasts. He groaned quietly, as he felt his fingers sink into them, her breasts' softness molding them around his hands. It earned a shiver from her, too. She giggled nervously as she looked him up and down, and re-hooked her hands around the back of his neck.

"If I... if I had to guess," she said, "ye're interested in her."

Shit.

"I... um..."

"Nae, it's a'right. Though I think ye might be barking up the wrong tree. She has four servants, and she bangs them on the regular. At the same time." Fiona kept one hand on his neck, and let her other drift down his chest muscles. She licked her lips, and Eric smiled at the difference between her and Vrall's lips. Much as Vrall was unusually attractive, for a monster, Fiona's pink lips against her pale skin were far more appealing.

"Yeah, she does." Though Jessy seemed to suggest her 'ghouls' were banging other people, and not her, as of late.

"If there's a'body on the planet that won't mind a lass having a taste of ye, it's an open-minded woman like Jessy." Still with one hand hooked behind his neck, she reached down to her pants, undid the button and fly, and reached in. "I was in the Shadow World last night."

He tensed, hard enough for the girl to notice; she knew he knew what that was now, to some extent or another. With a nod, she smiled at him, and continued to touch herself, while one of his hands slid down to hold onto her waist. She wasn't ripped like the girls he knew in MMA, or Jessy, but she was mostly thin, a bit curvy, and a touch of softness to her, that was so terribly inviting. His other hand continued to sink into her breast, now reaching under to cup it, letting its fullness overflow his palm. Warm and heavy, her swollen, pink nipple begged his thumb to touch it. It did, reaching up to caress while his fingers continued to cup the breast's weight.

God damn, he broke easily.

"You were in the Shadow World?"

"Yeah, helping some friends learn some things. We met a sex spirit there." Fiona slipped her hand out of her pants, and put it on his chest. Wet. Already. "She had some interesting things to say about us. Apparently, everyone in Whore Town is... a slut. The vampires are the worst, but the spirit had some interesting things to say about me. Clara laughed at us."

"Clara?"

"A werewolf, like ye. I'm sure ye'll meet her, too. Bet she might even give Jessy a run for her money at stealing ye."

"I'm not—"

"I'm just kidding." Giggling all the more, her hand slid down his chest, over his abs, and down to his pants. Simple, loose sweat pants to wear at home provided no protection from her hands, nor did they hide how hard he was getting. He couldn't stop caressing the woman's breast, and that was only making things worse.

Her hand found his cock, then giggled and shivered all at once, as she began to gently stroke it within his pants.

"I still feel like I owe ye, for saving my life, and helping Beatrice save Jack," she said.

"You don't—"

"I want to." She started stroking him faster, her grip at the base of his cock, working him back and forth similar to that night with Jessy. "It's a treat for ye, and it's a treat for me. My hometown was so boring, and Dolareido isn't, and... and I haven't really gotten to partake! I get to see it, all the time, in my hunts. I lied to my friends, but it wasn't until that night with ye and Jessy that... that someone else touched me. A'm needin' more."

Horny girl leaves hometown, and struggles to break out of her shell in the big city. He could understand that, he supposed. But it only served to highlight how young the girl was, and how her aggressive, sexual attitude was far more 'fake it until you make it' than legit.

That didn't mean he didn't agree with her, though. And when a topless, beautiful woman is sitting on your lap, and stroking your cock while pointing it at her, it's hard to think clearly.

Whatever was happening to him, whatever it meant to be a werewolf, it was sending his body a very powerful message: you are alive, healthy, and ready fight or fuck at any time. And do it again, and again, and again. And god damn, he wanted to.

"Don't... suppose you brought any condoms?" he said.

"What? No, course nae. Ye're the man, ye should have some!"

"Only thing I brought with me to this new place was Kat. Been a pretty hectic night."

"It's a fancy place, right? I bet the bathroom already has some." She let go of him, got up, and walked toward the door as she kicked off her pants. Left only in her underwear, she grinned over her shoulder at him. Simple underwear, blue, and terribly cute.

He got up, and followed after her. Early in the morning, sun rising, and he needed sleep. A middle-of-the-night tryst with a deadly monster wasn't what he had planned for his morning, not after what happened last night. But, watching the small girl's large butt, her curvy hourglass figure, and breasts so large he could see the sides of them from behind, he couldn't deny what he wanted, now. Typical man, breaks like a dry twig the moment a girl shows her boobs.

He got up, and followed her, only to find underwear on the floor outside his door.

"This place is nice! I like it."

"It pays to have friends in high places."

"The Kindred own the town, I admit that." She found the bathroom down the hallway, and whistled as she flicked on the light. "Oh, oh! Hot tub!"

He laughed, leaned against the door frame, and watched the naked girl explore his bathroom. Yeah, it was ridiculously classy and sleek, a large scale bathroom with a middle of the floor drain, so the corner shower didn't bother with glass panels to contain the water. He'd heard of places like this, of rooms like this, called 'open design' or something. What the fuck would a couple do if one was showering and the other wanted to take a piss? Zero privacy. Well, the place probably did have an extra bathroom somewhere, considering how big the damn apartment was.

"Found some!" She drew some condoms from a cupboard, and waved them in the air, prize earned.

"I still think this is a bad idea."

"So do I, but I'm a young lass, and I deserve to make mistakes. Tasty, delicious mistakes." She wiggled the condoms left and right as she came closer, grin so big he could see her teeth. No fangs, nothing unusual.

"You're kind of skipping some steps, too," he said.

"I am?"

"Yeah. Last thing you want to do is jump right to the sex, Fiona." Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it. "Sit on the tub, and spread your legs." God damn it, Eric, you weak fucker.

She squealed, doing as directed, zero hesitation despite the blatant blushing. Redheads did blush easily, pale skin catching the red blood and putting all her emotions on display. Nervous. Giggling nervous. She set the condoms aside, put her palms on the white tub's edge, and spread her milky legs apart.

Wherever the sun struck, there were freckles. Her face was covered with them, and so were her upper arms. But under them, everything from the breasts downward, was creamy, milky white, alabaster almost, and demanding to be kissed. She'd shaved herself smooth, normal for Dolareido, and her pink pussy shivered along with her trembling thighs. Very nervous.

"I wish I had a bevvy."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure there's something to drink in the place. I haven't looked."

"Later, then?" Grinning big once again, she reached down between her thighs with one hand, and caressed her folds. Very wet. What had that sex spirit said to get her so riled up?

Maybe you should stop worrying about why these beautiful gifts are being dumped on your lap, Eric. Your knee is healed, you feel as healthy as an ox, and you have a great, new place to live. Pitt is dead, your debt is gone, and you got some vampires in your corner, backing you, willing to deal with that Montoya fucker. And two women are throwing themselves at you, both fun, both gorgeous, both looking for something non-committal. Perfect, right?

Well, maybe he was looking for something a little more committed? He wasn't young, anymore. Not old, not young, an age where the idea of getting drunk and sleeping with a stranger lost its appeal.

He shook his head at his thoughts, smiled at the beautiful creature waiting for him, and approached. He was still wearing his pants, but the loose fabric didn't bother him, despite how it hugged his upright cock. It'd be good protection for his knees, since he was going go be on them for a bit.

He breathed in, deep, and earned a sigh of desire from the small woman as she looked him up and down. She liked the look of him, and seeing a girl sigh with lust, was the biggest stroke to a man's ego he could imagine. It set his blood on fire, and filled his mind with imagery. If things continued, he'd have this tiny, curvy, busty creature in his bed, and he'd fuck her, and fuck her, and fuck her, until she wasn't able to move anymore.

All in good time.

He got down on one knee, set a hand against the tub edge outside her leg, while his other reached in, finding her sex. Warm, soft, wet and hungry. Fiona bit her lip, and chewed on it as she watched him, cheeks growing redder, and redder.

And all the redder, as he eased two fingers into her awaiting body.

"Oh! ...b-be gentle."

He smirked at the trembling woman, but did as requested. He'd had sex hundreds of times, but she hadn't. How much did she know about it, about her own body, about pleasure. No reason to do things quickly, when he could go slow, and help her find what she liked.

With his palm up, his middle and ring finger together, he pressed them into her body a few inches, and looked up at her. Her expression melted, and her hand, once caressing her folds, reached out to grab his shoulder, instead.

"You... you... know w-what you're doing, right?" she asked. Poor girl was trying so hard to be the aggressor, bouts of shyness made her so unbearably cute. Like sweet ice cream, almost too sweet to enjoy. Almost.

"I do." He leaned in, breathed deeply the scent of her flesh, her soft skin and curvy thighs, then set his lips onto her wet clitoris. A sharp inhale confirmed her sensitivity; no surprise there. He set his tongue against it, and kept the pressure soft, gentle, with long and caressing licks. Her shivers increased, and little squeaks started to come with them. Her breasts shook with her trembling, their softness causing them to ripple from movement. Her quickened breathing only made it worse, and Eric found himself staring at her just to watch her breasts jiggle.

The young creature was too beautiful. He almost felt unworthy, touching something so pure. Maybe pure wasn't the word, but there was no denying the girl was a bundle of joy who wanted the experience of the pleasures life had to offer; she was untainted. Strange, considering she was a monster; a shining example of what all the monsters, vampires, werewolves, and God-fucking-knows-what-else should strive to be. She was happy.

It was infectious. He grinned up at her, groaning into the softness of her mons. Vibrations from his voice earned a mewl from her, and mewl became squeak as he pressed his fingers up against her g-spot.

"Oh! There, inside... I like that... more, there."

Not afraid to admit what she liked. If only more people were like her.

She was already wet, and waiting; no need for him to gently warm her body. If she wasn't so ready and hungry for it, he'd spend time warming her up, kissing and suckling her clitoris while gently massaging her lips and labia. If there was one thing Sheryl didn't have any complaints with, it was the sex.

No no, don't think about Sheryl. Don't think about Sheryl, or werewolves, or debts, or your worthless father, or the fact you're probably still digesting a human fucking being. Think about the gorgeous woman in front of you, creaming onto your hand with only the slightest touch. And god damn it, just look at her, smell her, feel her. Her warm juices leaking down your knuckles feel great, and her mix of feminine deodorant and sweat — whatever she was doing earlier had been physically taxing — smelled better than than some fake scent perfume crap.

He groaned into her clitoris once again, and wrote some letters on it with his tongue, as he probed against her g-spot faster. Much faster. Her body started to tremble from the effort, and her breasts jiggled blatantly as she gripped the tub side with one hand, and his shoulder with the other.

She came in moments. Shaking like a leaf, she squeaked between her high-pitched, quiet moans, and squeezed his shoulders. As more of her liquids trickled out, he eased up the pressure of his tongue; no need to overstimulate the tiny nub he was suckling. But, by keeping his tongue on it, holding still while she came, he could tell the tiny redhead was forced to mewl as every movement brought friction against her hyper sensitive flesh. His fingers pressing against her depths forced her to become a shivering mess, though. Each upward thrust of his digits against her g-spot forced mewl after mewl out of her, in a blatant display of surrender.

She started to fall back, and he snapped out his free hand to wrap around the small of her back.

"W-Wait! Slow down... I..."

He grinned into her smooth pussy, and drew away his face. His fingers within came to a stop as well, but remained within, as he enjoyed the random spasms of her depths around his digits. Warm, and tight, the juxtaposition of her hard, clenching muscles within, compared to the softness of her body, was alluring. Christ, he couldn't wait to get inside her.

He started again.

"Wait! I said w...wait... nnnng!" The poor woman had little control of her voice. She set both of her hands on his shoulders, and pushed against him, trying to get him to stop. But her body responded with all the grace of lit kindling. She was sensitive, aroused, and her body wanted to be touched. She wasn't ready to be fingered so soon after an orgasm, but there was something deliciously primal about hearing a woman's exhausted moans, and small, begging words, as they were being forced to cum.

And she did. Poor thing looked at him with begging, golden eyes, and started to shudder all the more as her grip upon his shoulders renewed. To say she was sexually sensitive would have been an understatement, and Eric stared up the valley of her belly to admire her convulsing body and trembling breasts. Wow. It almost felt wrong, touching something as pure as this girl, his cynical and jaded mind unworthy of being near her. Her body came and came hard, her insides squeezing down on his fingers like a vise, causing more juices to leak onto his palm.

He forced his fingers through the clenching, and continued to finger fuck the trembling redhead.

"Eric! St... stop... I..."

Again, the sound of her begging for a ceasefire, between mewls and moans of pleasure, set his whole body on fire. If they'd been in bed, he'd have thrown her to her knees, and pounded her hard enough to wake the neighbors. The squeaks and squeals, mewls and whimpers, mixed in with moans, begging, and breathless words were intoxicating. Her words and sounds drove him to finger her harder. Hard enough to make her ass bounce against the tub edge, and her thighs to squeeze his arm in a futile attempt to stop him.

It wasn't until he felt her juices trickling down his wrist, that he stopped.

Poor girl collapsed forward, and he helped ease her down the outside of the tub to the floor, so she could sit with her back against the white tub. She sat there, legs spread, and shivered without stop. Panting and breathless, she looked at herself, where her legs were quaking; he doubted she was used to her body refusing to listen to commands.