Old Blood

Martina smiled and squeezed her thighs together, obviously appreciating the show.

With a sudden motion, Conrad threw his shirt off and it slapped to the floor, revealing his well muscled and pale torso. Martina squeaked at the sudden reveal and her eyes shone as she took him in. "Oh, fuck," she gasped, reaching out towards him with one hand, as if she could reach across the distance to caress his body. She moaned with need when she couldn't reach him, then said, "Fuck the booze, I need that," she gestured at his body, "right the fuck now!" She walked to the foot of the bed and shifted her dress up over her hips again and sat on the edge, leaning back.

Her position showed off her puffy pussy, bright pink against her dark skin. It exuded lust and shiny strands of her wetness stuck to the insides of her thighs and to the bed beneath her. She lifted her legs up so her knees met her chest and said, "Get in me, right now!"

Conrad smirked, not having to be told more than once. Four quick steps brought him to the edge of the bed and in one smooth motion he slid himself into her. She gasped in pleasure and her head rolled back onto the bed. She reached both hands forward and grabbed Conrad's chest, rubbing his muscles as he thrust his cock into her sopping pussy. He didn't worry about taking his time. Given what he was, he would never actually come unless he made a conscious decision to. His skin slapped against her ass and he grunted in time with each thrust.

Martina removed one hand from his chest and reached down to take hold of one of his hands which he'd planted to either side of her body. She pulled it up and put it on her chest, pressing his hand down on her breast. Conrad dug his fingers through her dress and into the flesh, squeezing and rubbing his thumb on her tit to stimulate her nipple. She smiled, and closed her eyes, then reached down for his other hand and pulled it into the space between them. With her hand on top of his, she began to rub her clit until he started rubbing her himself. Her hands fell down to the bed as she abandoned herself completely to his ministrations. It didn't take long until she began to chant, "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," drawing out the last word into a high pitched shriek as her orgasm slammed into her. The walls of her pussy clenched around Conrad's dick and he gasped with pleasure, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.

Martina's body relaxed and Conrad kept pumping into her. After three thrusts, Martina reached out and put her hands on his chest, pulling her hips away from him. "No, stop-stop-stop." He did and looked down at her. She lay gasping for breath on the bed in front of him, her juices coating his whole groin, her ass and the backs of her thighs. Half of his cock still impaled her as she met his eyes again. "That. Was. Fucking. Incredible," she said in a small, breathless voice. "But, I need a break."

She pushed against his chest with her feet, slipping him out of her completely. She turned and rolled of the side of the bed and came to her feet and turned to look at him. She looked down at his cock, still standing straight out from his body. She smiled and glanced up to his face. "Wow, big guy, what does it take to satisfy you?"

"More," he growled.

Martina chuckled and walked by him towards the cart again, swaying her hips teasingly. "I can see that." She tweaked the tip of his cock with a finger as she walked by, then turned to face him, standing behind the cart.

"Sit down," she said in a quiet voice. He sat. The wet spot left by her pussy felt cool against his thighs as he did.

Her eyes stared into his for several seconds, then she reached up slowly to slip a finger underneath one of the shoulder straps on her dress. She paused, and looked at Conrad. Her mouth turned up in a coy smile as she pulled at the strap, tugging it down over her shoulder. The bodice of her dress dipped a little as she did it, relaxing her breast. It sagged a little as the neckline slipped down, showing a hint of nipple. Conrad smiled, enchanted by the show.

Martina pulled the strap back up over her shoulder, then turned and swung her hips side to side, dipping down to disappear behind the cart. She was down there long enough for Conrad to wonder what she was doing, when she stood back up, and faced him. Her other hand raised to her shoulder and slipped a finger under the shoulder strap on that side. She held her other hand behind her back as she stepped around the cart and sashayed across the short distance to stand in front of Conrad.

"Do you wanna see my tits?" she asked. She drew the strap down, pulling it down far enough that the neckline of her dress slipped farther down and almost completely revealed her breast. Conrad's eyes followed her hand, then the dress and he never noticed her other hand.

With an incredible bang, the sawed-off shotgun she had hidden behind her back went off, driving the wooden stake in its barrel into Conrad's chest. The stake blew through his ribs and slammed through his heart with a flash of pain and panic. His first thought was to stand, to rip out her throat. How dare she assault him! But, his body would not obey. The stake through his heart rendered him helpless, and he felt himself collapse onto the bed, completely limp.

He heard the door open and hurried footfalls enter. Yes! Surely, someone was coming to investigate the shotgun blast. This bitch would be arrested, or killed by the police, and he'd have a chance to go free.

"We gotta hurry, Marty," a man's voice said. "They gave us five minutes to clear out, and take the body with us." There was something familiar about that voice. Where had he heard it before?

Martina chuckled. "That's plenty of time, Babe," she cooed. She moved into Conrad's line of sight and started pulling on bedsheets, making the bed shake a little underneath him. Another figure stepped forward and stood next to her, looking down at his paralyzed body. Conrad recognized him! The young man who brought the drink cart! Ah! He raged inside himself but it was completely impotent. All his anger, all his rage, all his desires for violence splashed off the inside of his head. His body would not respond, not with a stake through the heart. Whoever these two were, they knew what he was. They came prepared. They had targeted him and used his weakness against him. And, he realized, they were either working with management at this club, or had paid them off.

The man's eyes trailed down to Conrad's cock, still standing erect. Since his blood didn't flow unless he willed it, it wouldn't flow out of his cock on its own. He was forced to endure the indignity of a flopping erection in his helplessness.

"Damn, Marty," the man said with a low whistle. "He's pretty big." He turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. "Should I be jealous?"

Martina scoffed. "Babe, he's a bloodsucker. You know bloodsuckers don't do it for me."

The man stepped out of Conrad's field of vision and soon, Conrad felt his jerking the bedsheets on the other side of the bed. "Really?" he asked in a quiet voice. "Because he seemed to be doing it for you when I came in."

Martina stood, her body language betraying her annoyance. "Babe, why do we have to go through this every time?" She demanded. She reached down and grabbed the edge of the sheet and flipped it up over Conrad, blocking his vision completely.

"I dunno," the man answered, "why do you always have to fuck them every time?"

She scoffed again, this time her voice very clearly expressed how she felt. "Don't be so insecure," she snapped. "It works, doesn't it? We always get them. We always stay alive. And we always get paid!"

They worked on in angry silence and wrapped Conrad up in the bedsheets. Then, they lifted him up between the two of them and carried him away. Panic started to push aside Conrad's anger and rage. If they managed to get him out of this building, he was as good as dead. He mentally grit his teeth, though his body refused to obey, and cursed himself for a fool. If only he'd hired some muscle, a bodyguard! But, no, he'd been so secure in his power over mortals. His power over men and woman. He'd never been in so much danger before. Ever.

The two of them jostled him as they descended a set of stairs and Conrad tried to remember where the stairs were in the club. He couldn't hear any music, so they weren't the stairs in the Pit. He realized that he didn't know the layout of the club. They could be anywhere and he wouldn't know it. Not that he would have been able to do anything about it even if he did know their exact location.

His body thumped to the ground as they dropped him and he heard a car door open. They picked him up again and after a couple swings to gather momentum, they tossed him into the vehicle. His head thumped against the opposite door and he groaned internally with the pain. His arm flopped to the floor of the car and took the corner of the bedsheets that covered his face with it.

The angle of his head made it possible to see between the two front seats and into the passenger side. Martina yanked open the door and slid into the seat and adjusted her dress. "This dress really isn't made for hunting," she muttered.

He heard the man slide into the driver's seat, but couldn't see him. His car door slammed shut. "I told you it would be a pain in the ass for the dirty work."

Martina chuckled. "No," she said, "it made the dirty work possible." She turned her head and smirked at him. Conrad heard him scoff angrily and Martina put on a pout and reached across and pulled his hand into her lap. "Drive," she demanded, "and I'll let you get dirty, too." There was a pause, then he heard the shifter slide into gear and the car jerked into reverse. With a few rapid clicks, it slammed into drive and Conrad's head jostled back and forth with the motion.

The engine whirred angrily as the vehicle gathered speed then took a sharp turn and accelerated. From the road noise, Conrad realized they were out of the parking lot and on the road. They were driving away, away from what he knew and he had no one to help him. Down inside, down deep where what little was left of his humanity resided, he knew that he was dead. He'd lived for just over two hundred years, and it was all going to come crashing down tonight. All because of lust. If he'd just bitten into her and drank her dry, he wouldn't be in this situation. But, no, he'd had to listen to his cock and her talented mouth. He yelled and screamed and raged at her, at life and at Death, giving it all he had, but his body refused to move. Of course it wouldn't; he had a wooden stake through the heart. This had only ever happened to him once before, at the hands of his sire, as punishment. This time, there was no one around to remove the stake and free him once he'd learned his lesson.

He turned his attention back to Martina and the man driving the car, focusing his rage on her. She whimpered with pleasure in the front seat. Her head was thrown back and her arm that he could see gripped the center arm rest, her nails digging into the plastic. The man's hand stretched out, reaching into her lap and Conrad realized that her gasps and moans coincided with the motions of his arm.

The arm pulled up and Martina sighed with disappointment, but gasped with surprise when the man put his shiny wet fingers into her face. She gave a lusty chuckle and sucked his fingers into her mouth, twirling her tongue around them, licking the space in between them. The man groaned, "Ah, fuck!" His heavy breath punctuated his words. "I can't wait to get you out of this car!" he growled.

Martina laughed, "We have to get there, first," she cooed. Conrad felt and heard a thump through the floor of the car, then the engine howled in four-cylindered fury and the vehicle lunged forward. Martina laughed again and grabbed his hand with both of hers and thrust it back down into her lap. Her sighs and moans began once again, with renewed vigor.

They drove for what seemed to be the better part of an hour before the vehicle slowed, then turned with a crunch onto a gravel road. The journey had been filled with Martina's sighs and groans and moans and at least one orgasm for her. The car was filled with the musky smell of her arousal. Once, the man had grabbed Martina's hand and yanked it roughly to his lap, but she'd slapped him away, saying, "Not yet!" The man had groaned his frustration, but didn't try to force anything after that.

Now, the car swerved slightly, then came to a stop, the brakes lightly squealing. Conrad felt the approaching dawn and the cursed part of him panicked, slamming around inside his skull, trying to find a way out. The more rational side had long ago accepted his fate. He could do nothing. Unless these two made a mistake, which they weren't likely to do, given how well they'd executed everything else earlier in the evening, he was fucked.

"Out of the car!" the man demanded. He threw his door open with enough force to rock the car back and forth slightly. His feet crunched on the gravel as he shot out of his seat and walked around the back of the vehicle. Martina laughed and threw her own door open, hopping out. He met her in front of the door at Conrad's feet and threw her against it. She hit with a gasp and a thump, then he spun her around and grabbed her hips, pulling them to his crotch. The position mashed her tits against the window. Conrad watched through the window as the man jerked up her dress and ripped down his pants. His cock sprang free and he grabbed it and rubbed it against her soaking slit. He was through with foreplay and slid himself quickly into her with a desperate sigh of relief, which Martina answered with her own cry of pleasure.

The car rocked as he slammed into her, their skin slapping loudly in the pre-dawn darkness. The man was very loud and soon he was all Conrad could hear. He reached up and yanked Martina's dress down to grab one of her breasts. Martina squealed in pleasure as he pinched her nipple and twisted it. Her other breast mashed against the window, almost right in Conrad's face. He found himself wanting to grab it himself and lick her nipple before sucking it gently into his own mouth. Though, given the rough treatment she was getting from this man, he wondered if she would have enjoyed it?

A few more thrusts was all it took for the man to scream into the darkness, "Fuck, I'm coming!", then he slammed his hips into hers with a roar. Martina panted against the window as he spent himself inside her, then he pulled out and backed away. Both of them gasped for breath as Martina pulled her dress back into position.

"Fuck, that was good," the man groaned.

Martina laughed and pulled herself into him and kissed him. "Yes, it was Baby," she cooed.

Now that the fucking was over, Conrad saw that the sky had begun to lighten. Martina noticed it, too.

"It's almost time," she said, then yanked the door at his feet open. She reached in and grabbed the bedsheets wrapped around his legs and pulled. He slid over the seat toward her.

"Shit, his face got uncovered," the man said. "That would have been bad if we'd gotten pulled over." He reached in and grabbed the sheets, helping her lift Conrad out of the car. They carried him away from the vehicle, then dumped him unceremoniously onto rough grass.

They stood in silence for a minute, then the man asked, "Do you think he saw us? Or heard us?" He chuckled. "It would be funny if he had to watch me fuck you after you fucked him."

Martina snorted and he heard her hand slap his bare skin. "You don't own me because you fucked me. And he didn't own me before that." She sighed, "And, no, he can't see us. Or hear us. Everything goes dark for them when you stake them. Everyone knows that."

Disappointment colored the man's voice as he spoke up, "Yeah, I guess you're right." He sighed.

They waited for a few more minutes in silence. The sky continued to brighten and the cursed being inside of Conrad screamed in panic inside his paralyzed body.

"Here it comes," Martina said. "Here comes the sun."

The man chuckled. "I love watching these things burn with you," he said.

"Me too," she answered.

The sun poked up over the horizon and its beams struck Conrad. The light seared across his skin, setting it alight. His nerves screamed in agony as they burned away. He felt his dead flesh incinerate at the kiss of dawn and watched the ash catch on the wind and flutter away in front of his eyes. The light played over his whole body, and flames burst to life and enveloped him. His mind screamed in white and he knew pure agony. The flames ate deep into him and he felt his brain, his mind, be consumed by the fire. His pain flared even brighter. Then he was gone.

The wind carried the last of the ash away, leaving behind a black stain on the grass.