(This story is intended for submission to the Halloween competition. Your vote is appreciated. Constructive criticisms are welcome. I hope you enjoy!)
*****
Ian opened his eyes slowly. His head buzzed. It was a distant, but annoying sound, and he wanted nothing more than to make it stop. He blinked hard and tried to focus, but the morning burned his eyes. It blinded him. He swallowed hard and held up one hand, shading his eyes in an effort to extinguish the flame.
The drone went on, making his head throb, and he groaned aloud. The alarm, he thought as he turned his head and squinted at the blinking, buzzing clock. His arm felt heavy as he made a feeble attempt to locate the source of his annoyance. He slapped at the black box and it fell to the floor with a loud clatter, but the buzzing suddenly, and thankfully stopped.
He lay immobile and uncomprehending for several moments, his senses out of balance. He wondered in his stupor what day it was, and the fog in his head slowly began to lift. His penis strained upwards and he groaned again as the need to urinate overrode his desire for sleep. He gave his penis a firm squeeze as he dragged himself upright and dangled his legs over the edge of the bed. The room was spinning and he felt a wave of nausea as he struggled to control his equilibrium.
A cool breeze wafted in through an open window and it seemed to help. He drew in a deep breath and his head cleared a little more. The nausea passed. He felt for the floor with his bare feet and made an attempt to stand on wobbling knees. He didn't bother to cover himself with the sheet. There was no one here to see him naked. If he could just make it to the bathroom, he thought as he took one unsteady step forward.
The breeze inadvertently slammed the bathroom door shut behind him, and a sharp pain shot through his temples. He grimaced and reached past the glass door, turning the knobs of the shower and adjusting the water. Steam filled the room quickly, fogging the mirror while he leaned with one hand against the wall and strained to empty his bladder.
His urine splashing against the toilet bowl made his head throb. He gave his penis a shake and stepped inside the hot shower. The water cascaded over his head and shoulders while tiny streams massaged his neck with pinpricks of agonizing pleasure. It hurt so good, he thought as he braced himself with both hands against the back wall of the shower and sighed.
"Another day in paradise," he said with dismay as he took up a bar of soap and began to lather himself. He ran the bar over his chest and under his arms, scrubbing away the evidence of the night before. His expression turned into a frown as he tried to recall the events with some clarity.
He could remember most of the day and even some of the evening. There were meetings in the morning between his lawyer and his publicist's attorneys. Despite the arguments, addendums, and deletions, he had signed the contracts where he was told to sign, before being whisked away to a book signing at a small shop in the city.
He spun around and let the water blast against his forehead and cheeks. He hated the book signings, almost as much as he hated the cocktail parties meant to help promote the sales of his latest novels. He was only grateful that despite it being All Hallows Eve, he hadn't been forced to wear some ridiculous costume. It was a formal affair. More often than not, he drank far too much and ate far too little at those types of gatherings, trying to obliterate the faces of fawning females who called themselves his admirers and fans.
In the past, there had been the occasional liaison, usually one-night stands that never worked out very well, but these days, he shunned the idea of even those. The women were gold-diggers, or worse yet, bored, married housewives with the idea that he was the cure for whatever marital disease plagued them.
But, last night, there had been a woman. Ian ran his soapy hands over his genitals, turning his back to the spray and building a soapy beard over his pelvic region. Yes, he was beginning to remember now. There had, indeed, been a woman. He was certain of that.
She had approached him at the bar, but not before he felt her presence. It was one of those strange happenings when you know someone is watching you before you actually see them. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and even now, it made a shiver run through him. His cock bobbed up and down, waving in empty air as he washed himself. The idea of the woman made it stiffen even more.
Even as a novelist, words seemed to escape him as he thought of how she looked, gliding across the room, dressed in a long, slinky, scarlet gown that left nothing to the imagination. She had dark, auburn hair and green eyes, flecked with gold. He was sure of that. He positively couldn't forget those eyes. Ian grasped his cock firmly and begin stroking it slowly, closing his eyes and picturing the woman.
She didn't say a single word when she approached him. She just stared at him over the rim of her glass with those amazing eyes. After a moment, she handed him her glass and walked away as if she expected him to follow her. He did. He slammed the glasses on the bar, tossed down a tip, and followed her straight to the elevator. She was waiting for him there, holding the door open until he walked right in.
Somehow, he had paused long enough to grab a full-length fur coat that someone handed him as he strode out the door. He wrapped the coat around her shoulders and pressed the button that whisked them down to the first floor. Still, not a word passed between them. Not even when he handed her inside the waiting limousine, and climbed in beside her.
As the limo sped along the city streets, she lifted the hem of her gown and took his hand, guiding it between her thighs. She didn't close her eyes. Hell, she didn't even blink! She just stared at him with that hypnotic look.
Her pussy was bald. It was as smooth as the silk dress she wore, soft and warm to his touch. He stroked it as if he was petting a cat. She opened her legs and thrust her pelvis upwards. He could smell her scent, sensual and musky, rich with the smell of animal sex. It was intoxicating. He told himself that he had simply drank too much, but it was everything about her that made his head swim.
The inner lips of her cunt were slippery and his finger glided inside of her without a second of hesitation. It was as if she had been waiting for him, working herself into a sexual state of readiness, and she made a purring sound in her throat as he slid inside. That tight little snatch closed around his finger and sucked at it like a child gobbling down candy.
She reluctantly pulled his hand away just as the car wheeled next to the curb and stopped in front of an old restored apartment building. She stared into his eyes as she parted her lips and sucked his finger inside. Her tongue curled around the appendage, licking it clean, sucking it into the back of her throat for pure pleasure. Then, the door swung open and she stepped from the vehicle without a backward glance. Ian followed.
There was another silent elevator ride as they made their way to an upper floor, exiting and following a corridor to a set of heavy, wooden French-doors. She retrieved a key from a small handbag and slid it in the lock. The door swung open and what lay beyond was a virtual den of iniquity.
If the building was old, the apartment was rich and contemporary in its furnishings. Plush white carpet covered the living room floor. A fireplace burned as if it was constantly tended, putting off an odor of smoke and ash. Heavy drapes framed a lovely view of the city skyline and he paused in front of the window to take advantage of the rare sight.
The woman placed a fresh glass of bourbon and rocks in his hand while she sipped at a chalice of rich red wine. Yes, it was a chalice he confirmed with a frown. It was silver if he didn't miss his guess. He pursed his lips to ask her name, but she placed a finger to them to silence his questions. She took his hand and led him towards another set of double doors.
Her heels clicked against hardwood floors as they passed through the doors. Another fire roared against the far wall. A four-poster bed dressed in white satin sheets and topped with a thick down comforter posed an invitation, as it seemed to beckon to him. She set her cup aside and slid the narrow straps of her gown down past her shoulders. The gown crumpled at her feet and she stood naked before him, except for the spiked heels she still wore.
His breath became ragged as he peeled off his dinner jacket and tossed it aside. He wrapped his arms around her and she pressed her buttocks against the front of his pants, again, purring as he rubbed his rigid cock against her ass. She turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his head down towards her open lips.
Her tongue slithered past his lips, flicking at his tongue while dodging his attempts to entrap it and suck at it with his own. It was like being kissed by a snake, he thought as she delicately licked at his lips and explored the dark cavern that was his mouth. She pulled at him, laying back on the bed with her knees spread wide, and bringing him down on top of her as she did. His cock strained for release from his britches.
Her body was perfection, flawless and beautiful. Her skin was dark and smooth. Her breasts were firm and high with nipples that stood at full attention even when not being fondled. He sucked one inside his mouth and she moaned softly. He squeezed the other, massaging it firmly in his palm. She thrust her hips upwards rubbing her mound against his stiff rod. She pushed on his shoulders pressing him downward.
"Drink," she murmured with a sigh as he fell to his knees between her open thighs. He thought it was an odd request, but he didn't pause to ponder the queer demand. He lifted her legs over his shoulders and bowed his head, closing his lips over the bud that peeked from under its hooded cloak. A garbled growl of desire escaped her lips as he sucked her clit between his lips.
