She Stalks at Night

The music playing in the club is some loud techno trash that you'd have to be really fucking drunk to enjoy. And unfortunately, I'm still sober.

Way too sober. And this idiot behind the bar with the man bun is too busy chatting up some girl to notice me. She's wearing a short sequin crop top and booty shorts that don't leave much to the imagination and I'd be lying if I said I've not been stealing the occasional glance at her ass. She's not really my type, though. Too much fake tan and not enough going on between the ears. I'd still fuck her if I got the chance, of course, but I prefer my pussy a little less... whorish. And anyway seems like this guy--the guy who should be pouring me another drink--has already claimed her. He's now telling her some bullshit story about when he was on a gap year in Thailand. At least, that's what I think he's saying. This fucking music is forcing me through a crash course in lipreading.

'Hey!' I say tapping on the bar impatiently. I hardly hear the word leave my mouth.

He shrugs me off with a dismissive wave, 'Yeah, uno momento, my man.'

I feel fury building up inside. I'm close to vaulting over the bar and grabbing him by that silly man bun and strangling him until he mixes my overpriced Negroni.

'Wanna dance, baby?' A voice whispers in my ear. A girl's, with clipped pronunciation and upper-class intonation. Definitely posh. Definitely not from around here. But there's a playful dirtiness to it, a sultry underlayer that instantly makes my cock react. I haven't even turned to face her yet but already I wanna marry her. Or fuck her. Both.

'I don't really dance, but--' I lose the ability to speak when I turn and see her. 'I... uh...' I don't usually get awkward around girls, even with ten outta ten supermodel-looking bitches. But now, with this raven-haired beauty, I'm suddenly tongue-tied and red-faced. I've been completely blindsided by her.

Her age is hard to estimate. She could either be a mature looking eighteen-year-old or a youthful thirty-year-old. Her skin is perfect pale-porcelain--not an unhealthy pale, but a vibrant near-white shade that's free of any marks or blemishes. I want to reach out and touch it, kiss it--but that's a surefire way to get my head smashed in by some white knight trying to protect her virtue. She's got sharp features, with high cheekbones that remind me slightly of Keira Knightley but with large round eyes that are emphasised by pitch-black eyeliner. She's wearing lipstick--also black--and has a silver nose ring that sparkles under the club's neon red lights. The dress she's wearing--again, black--is strapless and short, and matched with a pair of--you guessed it--black Doc Martens

'I... uh,' I sputter, already undressing her in my mind. My throat feels like sandpaper. 'I can't dance.'

She looks me up and down. I hope it's too dark for her to see the bulge in my jeans. 'Why not?'

'No...' I say, 'I mean... I mean, I can dance. I just don't. I'm not very good at it. It's embarrassing for everyone involved.'

She pouts, 'You're gonna make me dance all on my own?' She reaches out and runs a finger--black nails,, of course--down my chest, from my heart to my belly.

'I find it hard to believe that you're short of guys willing to dance with you,' I say. 'Or girls, for that matter.'

'But' she steps closer, 'I want to dance with you. You're cute. And I like cute guys.'

'Thanks, I--'

And suddenly she's kissing me. Not a cheeky smooch, but a full-on snog. She places her palm against my chest and feels my heartbeat. I hold her hip, steadying myself. I feel people watching us, mostly jealous guys wishing they were in my shoes right now. Ignoring the onlookers, I slide my hand down and feel her arse. I give it a good squeeze and she moans slightly, then breaks off the kiss and gently bats away my curious hand.

'Dance with me first,' she whispers, 'then we can go somewhere a bit more private and you can feel up my ass all you want.'

I don't what to say, my mouth is agape as I realize I'm falling in love.

She takes both my hands in hers, her eyes wide and demanding, 'Dance with me, baby.'

'Yeah, yeah...' I say, 'of course. Lead the way.'

'Good boy,' she smiles and kisses me again, then pulls me towards the dancefloor where there lies a monster of sweaty, writhing bodies and sexual tension. The music is still the same techno crap as before but I'm slowly starting to appreciate it as my body begins to move to the skittering drum machine and robotic vocals. Before long I'm dancing like a madman, my long arms and legs jolting wildly in different directions. I probably look like a daddy long-legs having some sort of epileptic fit but I don't care. Right now the only thing on my mind is being close to her, close to the girl who's pressing herself up against me and gyrating her hips against mine. No way she's not aware of the bulge in my jeans now, in fact, she's purposefully rubbing her ass against it. The lights above us begin to strobe and flash in time with the music.

I hold her closer as she writhes against me, my hand resting on her belly. I wanna reach up and grope those tits but that may be pushing it. I move my own hips and feel the outline of her ass on my cock--the only thing between us is the fabric of my Levi's and her thin dress. She reaches up over her shoulder and takes a handful of my hair and pulls me closer to whisper in my ear.

'You're so hard, baby,' she growls. 'You got a big cock?'

I can't believe this is happening. I don't even know her name. 'I mean...'

'You have. I can feel it pushing against my ass.' She bites my ear, hard. It hurts like hell but I don't care, the pain converting into excitement and desire. 'Here,' she says, 'give me your hand.'

She grabs my wrist and places my hand under her dress. I look around, terrified someone will see us, but everyone is too busy dancing or too high to notice. I feel the soft flesh of her thighs--they're wet with excitement. Her panties must be ruined, I think, then dance my fingers higher and discover she isn't wearing any.

'You're not wearing--'

'Touch me.' Her voice is seductive but firm.

I do as I'm told and push two fingers into her soaking wet cunt. She jumps up in pleasure and moans, kissing me hard on the lips. I slide my fingers in and out, slowly, trying to not make it obvious what we're doing. But if someone looks they're gonna know, why else would I have my hand up her dress? She's so tight--can't even imagine what she'd feel like around my cock, which is much thicker than my two fingers.

'I want you,' she says, hungrily. 'I want to taste you. I need it.'

'Well, I don't think we can do that on the dancefloor.'

'You live close?'

'No, not really. I can call a taxi--'

'No,' she snaps, her eyes suddenly inflamed with anger. A moment later they soften again, back to desperate lust. 'I mean, I can't wait that long. I need you. Now.'

'I don't really know--'

'I want you to fuck me, baby. I want to suck that big cock then I want you to fuck me with it.' She demands it with such desperation and anguish, such unfiltered desire, that there's no way I can refuse her. I can't disappoint her.

'The toilets,' I say. 'We could do it there.'

'Yes. That's perfect. I'm so wet. I'm soaking wet because of you. Look.' She holds my wrist and pulls my hand away from her pussy. 'Look what you've done to me,' she says, and then begins to suck on my fingers, lapping up her juices. I watch in awe. Who is this girl? This amazing, wonderful girl? When she's finished, she says, 'My pussy tastes good, but now I wanna taste you.'

'I... who are you? I don't even know your name.'

She smiles, 'I'm Florence. But you can me Flo.'

'I'm Jake.'

'It's a pleasure to meet you, Jake. Now, will you please take me to the toilets and fuck my brains out?'

***

The club toilets are about as filthy as you'd expect and smell like weed and sex. A bald bloke in a crumpled business suit is snorting something off the surface next to the sinks. Sat on the floor next to the urinals two cute girls are snogging, both with their tits out and groping each other. A man stands over them, watching with a big smile on his face and rubbing himself over his cargo pants. Can't say I really blame him, it's not every day you see a lesbian porn scene playing out in real life.

I watch them too, for a moment, until Flo caresses my cheek softly and says, 'I'm better than them, baby. I'll make you feel better than they ever could.'

And just like that everyone else in the toilet doesn't matter. The coke-snorting businessman, the pervert, even the two girls who are now fingering each other, none of them matter anymore.

It's just me and Florence. We're the only ones who matter. And she needs me. She needs me to fuck her. It's what she wants and I want to give it to her.

'C'mon, I want some privacy. I want you alone,' she says and takes my hand and leads me to the end cubicle. She grabs my shirt and pulls me close--I feel a surprising amount of strength in those lithe hands--and kisses me hard, biting my bottom lip, and then kicks the cubicle open behind her. She yanks us both in and pushes me down onto the toilet. The walls are covered with graffiti and random writing and someone's scratched their phone number into the wall with the message: any girls/guys like big cocks? if the answer is yes, call me.

The sound of the techno music is still pretty loud here but at least I can hear Florence without having to read her lips. 'Finally, some privacy,' she says and locks the door, sealing us in.

I start unbuckling my belt but I'm too excited and my shaking hands fumble with the latch. Florence holds my hands still, kisses me hard and gets down on her knees and quickly undoes it for me. I sit up and she yanks my jeans down and grabs my cock through the fabric of my boxers, squeezing the shaft firmly, then pulls at the waistband, letting it spring loose. Pre-cum drips from the head. Without saying anything she sticks her tongue out and licks up the shaft, lapping up the pre-cum and then swirling it around the top.

'Oh, fuck,' I groan, biting my fist. I try to keep calm, if I'm not careful I'm gonna cum instantly.

'You taste delicious. And your cock is perfect.' She looks up at me, those big eyes hypnotic and hungry. She looks like she's close to crying, 'I want to deepthroat you. Would you like that?'

I nod, desperately, and her black lips curl into a sly smile, and she swallows my whole length in one go. I shut my eyes tight and grip the cubicle walls, my toes curling in my trainers. It's like a magic trick, the fucking disappearing cock. One second it's there, and the next, it's vanished down her throat. She only gags slightly, her lips touching the base of my dick. I expect her to choke, at least a little bit, but she doesn't. She just keeps her lips wrapped tightly around my cock, her throat constricting on my shaft. She reaches down and fingers herself, moaning as black streaks of eyeliner run down her cheeks.

'Jesus. You're so fucking good,' I say, doing all I can not to cum in her throat right this second.

She pulls off my cock--it's slick and dripping with her spit, and there are a couple dark marks where her lipstick has smeared--and says, 'You're enjoying yourself?'

'Yeah. You're... you're amazing.'

'You're gonna love what comes next, baby.'

'Oh, yeah?'

She jumps to her feet and hikes her dress up and climbs onto my lap. Straddling my waist, she holds my face in both hands and kisses me hard. Again, she bites my lip. It hurts and I taste blood, but I'm too aroused to say anything--hell, if this girl gets off on biting, she can bite me all she wants.

'Quickly,' she moans in my ear, 'shove your cock in my cunt.'

'I've got... I've got a condom in my wallet...'

'No!' she screeches.

I gulp, my blood feeling like ice water in my veins. I... thought I saw something, just for a moment. I could've sworn that her mouth... changed... when she shrieked. But no, it can't have. It was a trick of the light--it's dark in here, after all. Or it's my brain playing tricks on me. It's okay now, though. She's kissing me again, hungrily licking at my face like a puppy, and stroking my cock between her thighs.

'It's just,' she says, softly, 'I don't like condoms. I wanna feel you inside me... I wanna feel you for real.'

I stutter, 'O-okay. But you'll have to get off me before I cum--'

She places a finger against my bleeding lip to shush me. 'It's okay, baby. Just relax and let me ride you.'

I relax. She'll get off before I cum, I know she will. She just doesn't like condoms... that's okay. I want to make her happy and if this is what it takes then that's okay.

Slowly, Florence lowers herself on to my rock-hard cock. She's tight and wet and warm. And then, in a sudden, violent movement, she slams herself down and impales herself on my whole length. We both scream out with ecstasy and she wraps her arms around my neck and plants kisses all over my face and starts to bounce up and down on me. I'm balls deep inside her, bottoming out into her womb. The cubicle walls shake along to our lovemaking--if anyone outside somehow didn't know what we were doing before they sure as fuck do now.

She whispers into my ear, her warm breath feeling good on my skin. 'I want you to come inside me. I want you to breed me. I want you make me a mother. I love you...'

'Ah, fuck,' I moan, 'I... I love you too.'

In a serious of sudden quick flashes, I see images of our future together. Like dreamy polaroid memories that haven't come about yet. Us on a date together, seeing a shitty film at the cinema and walking back to my place in the rain. I give her my coat because she looks cold. We make love when we get in--not dirty, nightclub toilet sex, but real romantic lovemaking. Two years later, she's in a white dress walking down the aisle. I'm crying at how beautiful she is. I see us five years later. We have two kids. A boy and a girl. They have my eyes but her smile. We're in a park having a picnic. It's perfect. Fifty years later. We're together in a small cottage, old but still madly in love. We're looking after our grandkids...

I have to do as she says. I have to cum inside of her. If the future I saw is to come true I have to do what she tells me.

'Do it, Jake,' she growls.

I grab her ass with both hands and thrust upwards into her. Her screams are loud, wild, almost inhuman. She holds the back of my head, taking a handful of my hair--it stings but I don't give a fuck--and gyrates her hips and pussy on my cock. I feel her cunt tighten as she climaxes.

Unable to hold out any longer, my orgasm detonates inside her. I bury my head into her chest, moaning with each rope of cum that I shoot into her... into my love. The love of my life.

'I love you,' I say--no, scream. I scream it. 'I love you!'

But she's laughing. Why is she laughing? Not an affectionate laugh... no, this is shrill and maniacal. And her fingers... those black nails, are digging into my neck and skull.

I'm dare not look up, terrified of what my love has become. But Florence doesn't give me a choice. She yanks my head back and forces me to accept her for what she is.

I want to scream at what's on top of me... at what I'm pumping my seed into. She's smiling but it's too big, oh god, her mouth is stretched wide into some horrendous clown grin. And her teeth... her canine teeth have grown long and sharp, like that of some wild beast. I know what she is, but the word is too wrong, too sacrilegious to even think it. They don't exist. They are not real.

She's still laughing as she moves up and down on my cock, a vile, horrendous cackle. I can sense it's evil. This thing... my love... is pure evil. She's still in my head and I can sense it, an ancient, primordial evil. But the thoughts are short are blurred... I still see us together, growing old and in love. But it's a lie. A falsehood. A trap to ensnare prey.

As my orgasm reaches its crescendo, she shrieks out--the sound pleasured and guttural--and plunges those elongated teeth into my jugular. The pain is quick and instant, then fades into a numb ache, like a novocaine injection. I hear a disgusting slurping sound and feel her tongue licking at my neck. The warmth of my blood is surprisingly pleasant as it seeps down my shoulder and pools on the floor. I hear it dripping onto the ground like a leaky tap.

My cock pulsates a final time inside her. She rides me till I'm soft, still sucking on my neck. There's no pain now. Just a dark cold, overwhelming my body. It starts in my fingers and my toes and slowly moves up my limbs. Soon I'm freezing. My right foot twitches uncontrollably. I wonder why it does that? Fuck... it's cold. The only warmth I feel is from Florence's pussy, which is still wrapped around my cock. I start to harden again... which is kinda ironic seeing as I'm quickly haemorrhaging all my blood out through the two holes in my neck.

I'd laugh if I could still make a sound.

My vision blurs. Big black splotches of oblivion start to appear, soon to envelop me. I try to fight it. Probably pointless. I'm not scared. I should be terrified but I'm not. Why is that?

She stands up. Her face is back to normal now. Back to the face I fell in love with twenty minutes ago, though now it's stained red with my lifeblood. Her lipstick is smeared. Her mascara has streaked. She's expressionless and cold, casually pulling her dress back down over her pussy. She reaches into my pocket and pulls out my phone. I make an involuntary sound, a sort of wet gurgle. I think it's the sound of me choking on my own blood.

She points the camera at me. The last thing I see is the white flash as she takes a photo. And the last thing I hear is her voice.

'It's a shame. You really did have a nice cock.'