Plain Old Dana



She wandered slowly towards the bar, observing her fellow guests, evaluating, and fantasizing. As she moved through the crowded room, she began to feel eyes on her body. Like most outgoing, attractive young women, Dana was used to a certain amount of public attention; sometimes she dressed to encourage it, and sometimes not, but she had never felt quite this...level of intensity before. The eyes conveyed...intentions, and the intentions were not entirely honorable. She began to observe her admirers more closely, and it was as if she could see what each wanted by watching his—or in a couple of cases her—eyes. Vampires could read minds, couldn't they? The thin young guy in the red suit and devil's horns a dance or a kiss maybe. But that short, burly guy in the Groucho glasses and fright wig wanted to do naughty things to her backside. She looked back as she moved past him, caught his eyes following her ass, saw his brows contract, watched him swallow as if his throat was dry. She paused, as if to allow somebody to pass, wiggled her hips. Would he make a move, try to talk to Then he was SOL; no ass for him. She giggled to herself, and walked on.

As time passed and people got a little drunker, several guys approached her: did she want a drink? Did she want to dance? She declined most of the drinks, accepted several of the dances, chatted with a couple of acquaintances, one of whom, Lee—a tall, broad-shouldered, taciturn man who was a star in R&D—seemed to be working up a sweat trying not to look at her breasts. She debated calling him on it, inviting him to check her out, maybe...but Lee was almost a friend, and he was married, with one kid in pre-school and another on the way. His life didn't need to be any more complicated, and she didn't want to be...that kind of complication. No, if she was going to play, she was going to play with a stranger. That way she could concentrate on the thrill of the hunt.

She began looking at the guys who were looking at her. At first it took some effort. Prolonged eye contact with strangers—particularly sexually engaged strangers—took some guts. It was not the sort of thing plain old Dana was comfortable with. Vampiress Dana, on the other hand, was kind of getting off on it. She caught a beefy, red-faced guy dressed like Indiana Jones staring hard at...some place between her navel and her crotch. As she tried to work out what he thought he was looking at, she saw his eyes move up her body until they found hers. She stared at him for several seconds, as if he was a not very interesting something she'd found beneath a not very interesting rock. And she felt a little jolt of pleasure between her thighs as she watched his face turn even redder, and his eyes cut away.

Wandering back towards the front of the ballroom, her eyes met those of a thick-set man with a shaved head, dressed as a pirate. She'd noticed him before, caught him staring. In fact, every time she'd seen him, he'd been looking directly at her, mostly up at her face, but never into her eyes. She giggled to herself. 'He's afraid I'll hypnotize him.' She looked him over; decided she didn't know him. He wasn't a handsome man, exactly, but he did look...capable: barrel-chested with short, thick arms and a square-ish face with dark brows drawn down over large eyes. There was some stubble on his chin, and what looked like a real dagger in his belt. Hmmm. Maybe she'd try a little hypnosis. Her other vampire powers seemed to be working: mind reading, seduction...she found herself wondering how his...blood would taste, and what part of his body she might decide to suck to get a nice warm mouthful of it.


She'd chosen her victim. God, even the word was a rush! Now, how to lure him into her evil embraces... He was still staring at...what the hell was he staring at? Her face, but not her eyes...a little lower...her mouth? Almost subconsciously, the tip of her tongue brushed across her lower lip, but the fangs were in the way. Her mouth opened a little wider, she felt the top of her tongue brush the tips of her fangs, and she saw his eyes widen. Then they snapped up, and stared straight into hers. She smiled. He liked her tongue, did he? No surprise there; most guys liked girls' tongues. Her smile widened, exposing her fangs. His eyes seemed to get even bigger. Interesting. An experiment: she caressed her fangs with the tip of her tongue. That really seemed to scramble his eggs. All of a sudden she wanted...needed to get this guy alone. She tipped her head toward the door, and walked away, swaying her hips seductively. No need to look back to check. Vampiress Dana knew her victim would follow.

Out past Geoff into the lobby of the hotel; then where? She wished she'd thought to get a room. Maybe...but then she'd have to go out to her car to get her purse. Maybe he That would break into the fantasy. She knew she couldn't sustain it indefinitely, but she was so...turned on by it. A seductive vampiress doesn't ask; she takes whatever she wants. A stairway leading down into room, office facilities...not much light down there...maybe outside? She'd freeze; vampiresses don't fucking shiver. Downstairs it was.

A dimly lit corridor; he was close behind her. He could hear his boots at the top of the stairs. Around a corner...another hallway: fitness room, a small alcove for restrooms directly across from it. Nobody around. She stopped and turned, leaned against a wall, and watched him come around the corner. Not a tall man; shorter than she was in the heels. Black shapeless pants...sweats?...tucked into tall boots, a white peasant shirt under a longish black leather vest, wide leather belt, with the dagger in a sheath, broad shoulders, thick neck; he looked like a pirate. For a second the fantasy flipped in her imagination, and she thought that it might be fun to let him ravish her. She could struggle a little, beg for mercy...provided she could be sure he wouldn't show her any.

Not tonight. Tonight she was the predator, and he was the prey. He seemed to know it too. He stopped perhaps eight feet away from her, checked behind himself to see the corridor was deserted, then turned back around to face her. He seemed unsure what to do next.

Her move: she searched her imagination for something clever or sexy to say. How did vampires greet their victims? "I am Dracula. I bid you velcome." That wasn't going to fly. In the end she settled for a wicked little smile and a husky: "Trick or treat, Handsome."

"Oh, um...hey." He patted his hips to indicate the lack of pockets in his sweats; smiled ruefully. I'm afraid I don't have any candy..." His voice was low. She liked it.

"Oh, that too bad," she pouted. Then: "Well, I guess I'll just have to find something else to suck on." Holy shit! where had that come from? Plain old Dana would never... Vampiress Dana on the other hand decided she enjoyed watching the effect her words had on the burly man in front of her; enjoyed watching his eyes widen, and his face flush. "So, what brings you down here? Not planning to rob me, are you? I'm afraid I have nothing at all." Ok, this was fun! She was a little proud of her double entendre, and she pirouetted slowly, letting him stare at her body, her tight little dress covering her like a coat of shiny black paint.

"Uh...well I thought you'd...the way you were looking at me...I thought..."

"Hmmm..." she purred, "fallen under my spell already, have you?" She giggled, and took a step towards him. He shot a quick look behind himself, checking for...what? "Don't be shy, handsome! Big, bad pirate; not afraid of me are you?"

"Should I be?"

"Well...maybe a little." She took a couple more steps toward him and smiled, baring her fangs, heard his breath catch. He muttered something indistinct. "What was that?"

"I said, holy sh...holy God, that's hot!"

She smiled, circling him, getting closer. This evil seductress stuff was easy, and fun, and hotter than hell. "So, you like what you see, do you?" trailing a finger lightly across his chest. Mmmm, felt like there was some muscle-tone under that shirt.

"Yes Ma'am." That was no good. Too formal, like the guy was in the military or something. Hell, maybe he was. She didn't really want to know.

"Don't be so polite, Handsome. You're a pirate, aren't you? And the way you were staring at me upstairs sure wasn't very polite." She dropped her voice to a husky whisper, and looked into his eyes. It made me feel as if I was absolutely naked." His breath caught again, and she stepped closer. "Oh my," she breathed, "you like that idea, don't you?"

"Yes, M...that is...I'm sorry, but...goddamn, you're, um...what should I call you?"

Dana had thought about it, and she'd remembered an old movie with this really sexy, murderous countess or something.

"I think you should call me...Milady. Will that do?" She stepped closer still, arms by her side, chest thrust slightly forward, invading his space, forcing him up against the wall of the corridor. "Hmmm?"

"Yes, um, Milady." She watched his eyes drop just slightly, not to her chest, but to her mouth. Was it the fangs, or maybe..."

He solved the mystery a second later. He reached out and drew his finger down the side of her chin. "Is this the last guy who followed you down here?"

She gave him her best evil smile: "Yup, he was dinner. You know what that makes you?"

"Tell me."



His eyes were large, even up close; a pleasant sort-of medium brown. His lashes were thick too; guys always got lucky with eyelashes. She'd noticed because she'd watched those eyes during their last little exchange. They'd gotten bigger; the brown now surrounded by white. She was close enough to feel the catch in his breathing. He was turned on. Seriously turned on. So was she.

She reached forward and brushed her hand against his groin. Through the fabric of what she could now feel were re-purposed sweats, her hand nudged something hard and thick. Her fingers explored his cock through the sweats, and the mind-reading thing happened again; although to be fair, when you had a guy's cock in your hand, reading his mind was hardly rocket science. Still, it made her feel kind of...fierce; she'd made him hard, and now she was stroking him, and she could feel the tension in his body. He wouldn't move until she took her hand away. She looked back into his eyes: hypnotism sexy vampiress-style. Hold his gaze and stroke his cock, and this powerful, burly pirate was completely at her mercy.

"You guys are so easy," she whispered, as she continued to fondle him. "All a girl has to do is wink and stick out her chest. You'll follow a nice pair of tits anywhere." Well hell, dirty talk wasn't so hard after all. And damn, the look on his face! Was it just the handjob? Slowly she moved her right hand from his cock, and brought her left up, closing both her hands around his wrists, pinning them to the sides of his body. She pressed herself against him, and leaned close to breathe in his ear. "Speaking of which, do you like my tits, Mr. Pirate? Do they feel nice pressed up against you like this? Can you feel how hard my nipples are? They get that way when I'm...thirsty."

Too far? Too silly? Apparently not. He could probably have broken her grip on his wrists without a second thought; she felt his arms tense, but he made no move to escape. Instead she felt him thrust forward, looking to reestablish some contact between her body and what she hoped was a painfully hard cock. The idea that she was torturing him sexually turned her on even more. Of course now she was pretty cranked she ground herself against him, feeling his hardness pushing against her through his sweats, her dress, and her soaking wet panties. He groaned: then, pulled himself away to smile into her eyes. "Well, Milady" he rasped in a passable "pirate" accent, "since you're thirsty, what d'ye say to a drink?" Then he tilted his head to one side, offering his bare throat.


Dana almost laughed aloud. Either she was really drunk—or he was, or she had been lucky enough to stumble on a guy who was as into her little fantasy as she was herself. She leaned into him, and dragged the tip of her tongue down the side of his neck. He shivered, and she giggled. "Sounds like somebody likes the idea of being my poor..." she gave him a quick, wet sucking kiss just above his shoulder, "helpless..." another a little higher on his throat, "victim." she finished with a final, lingering lick just below his ear.

She'd brought her arms up to drape around his shoulders as she teased, and now he pulled her into him again, to continue grinding against her. He was panting now, as if he'd run a marathon, and she had to listen hard to make out his raspy whispers: "Oh hell, yes!...God you're so...oh hot, so sexy...I just wannna..."

"Careful, Handsome," she smiled against his neck—"cute" wasn't on the menu any more, apparently—"flattery could get you...well, get me too hot and bothered, and I might just tear into you and start sucking..."

"Goddamn, please! Do it, please! Just...God this is so fucking hot! Bite me, please! Pretend to..."

He was grinding hard against her now, almost fucking her through their clothes, trying to find a position in which he could maintain enough friction on his cock to get himself off. It was hot—damn, it was hot; she'd reduced this guy to a panting, thrashing jumble of unfulfilled needs. But then...was this how she wanted their encounter to end; him cumming in his pants as he thrust against her like some demented cocker spaniel? Holy..., the power she had over this guy! His orgasm was hers to bestow, or deny. Gripping his shoulders, she used her body weight to push him into the wall behind him. He stilled for a second, surprised by the sudden impact, and she put her mouth to his ear.


She dropped her arms and stepped away, separating their bodies. He made an animal sound somewhere between a sob and a yelp, stumbled and almost fell, caught himself, and stood leaning against the wall, a look of agony on his face. Had he almost cum? She smiled to herself: 'Big, strong pirate,' she thought to herself, 'you're mine now.'


Milady stood back surveying her victim. Tormenting this guy was a serious rush. Dangerous thoughts—Dana surfacing for a second—a little cruelty really seemed to turn her crank. All at once she decided that the poor guy had suffered enough...for now. She took a step closer to her victim, and did a quick check to see that they were still alone in the corridor. Then she knelt in front of him, reached for the waistband of his sweats, and pulled them down quickly. His cock bounced gently in front of her. He hadn't worn underwear, and she could smell sweat and salt and flesh and precum. Also a hint of cologne; this guy had hoped to get lucky tonight. She hoped he was enjoying his evening as much as she was.

His cock was short and thick. When she put a hand around it, it was hot to the touch, as if its angry red color arose from the heat of his skin. She looked up into his face, saw uncertainty and need and fascination. She gave him a little smile, and ran her tongue across her lower lip: "Ooh, look what I've found!" she cooed. Then: "Blood's for dinner. I want something a little different for dessert. Still..."

Abruptly she bared her fangs in an open-mouthed snarl, hissing in the back of her throat, liked she'd seen vampires do in the movies. Then she closed her mouth quickly, letting her teeth snap together less than an inch from the tip of his cock. "Still want me to bite you, Handsome?" Without waiting for an answer, she leant forward and dragged the tips of her fangs across his erection, heard him moan, felt him flinch. Then she closed her mouth around his shaft and began to suck slowly. She'd leaned to give noisy blowjobs from an ex who'd really been into them, and now she made sure the man could hear her as she licked and hummed and slurped and panted around his erection. She knew he had to be close; could she stretch things out just a little more? Pulling his cock out of her mouth, she smiled up into his eyes, as she pumped him slowly with her hand. "Mmm, so much blood in here; maybe I should just...bite it off."


She giggled at the incongruous response. Poor guy just wanted to cum, but his torturess wasn't quite through with him. "Your wish is my command, Lover." She opened her mouth as wide as she could and took him to the root, her front teeth just grazing the base of his shaft. Then she shook her head back and forth, growling and hissing, a tigress tearing a strip of meat from a fresh kill. His moans climbed in pitch as he endured the combined pleasure and pain of her attack. Abruptly she stopped worrying him, and bit down, very slowly and gently, on the base of his shaft, allowing him to feel the slight pressure. To her surprise and relief, her fangs stayed in place, and she almost laughed around his shaft as she momentarily imagined swallowing them. Then she noticed silence and stillness. Her victim was absolutely motionless as she held him in her teeth. He seemed to be holding his breath, something of an accomplishment, given how much he had been panting just seconds before. She pulled off him with a long slow suck, and heard him sigh in relief

"No," she purred up at him, "I think I'll let you keep this nice thick cock of yours a little longer. Of course," she reached for his erection, red and swollen, and glistening with her saliva, "I'm still thirsty, and now that I've found something to suck on..." Milady met her victim's eyes, gave him a quick wink, and a naughty smile, and whispered: "I think I'm ready for my treat!" Then she slipped the head of his dick back between her lips, sucking and stroking in a quick, regular rhythm. He gasped at the sudden sensation, and began to pant and moan almost immediately.

"Ohh, close, please...unh, unh, unh...almost...gonna... Oh goddamn! Oh yes, yeah just like that...just...hunh, hunh...HUNH!

His cock pulsed in her mouth as jet after jet of thick, salty sap shot across her tongue. She'd anticipated a big load—she'd teased and denied him—but she was astonished at how quickly he'd filled her mouth. She swallowed convulsively, and then pulled him out, his last few spurts hitting her lips and dripping down her chin, like the (fake) blood of her first imaginary victim. Making sure he was watching, she gathered the excess on her fingers, humming with content as she slowly licked them clean. Then she stood up, and turned away to walk back down the corridor.

"Wait up a minute!" She looked back to see her pirate struggling to get his pants back up around his waist. She kept walking. "Wait!" Desperation in his voice: "Can I see you again?"

She turned around and stalked back toward him. He took an involuntary step back, one hand still tugging at the waist of his sweats. She said: "Give me a phone number."

"I don't have anything to write..."

"Just tell me."

He did. She turned and walked away.

"Hang on a minute! What's yours?"

She thought to herself: 'I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you...' Then she giggled to herself: 'which might be kind of fun.'


When she woke up the next morning, she remembered the number; she was good with numbers. Of course she didn't know if it was home or cell; didn't know his name, if it came to that. She decided she didn't care, but she also decided that she wasn't quite done playing with him.

The party had been...well, amazing, and that was kind of weird. She thought about it on her way into the office the next day, had thought about it as she dressed and ate a quick breakfast. She was back to being just Dana, plain old Dana, or...pretty little Dana? Hot little Dana? Back to the party: she'd wandered around, talked to almost nobody, sucked some stranger's cock in a deserted hallway, and left. She hadn't even gotten off...well, not until she got home, torn off her new favorite dress, leapt into bed and abused her clit until she came like a fucking freight train!

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byQuince© 21 comments/ 60745 views/ 42 favorites

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