Chapter 4
I stared in utter disbelief as the woman who had been tormenting me in my dreams now stood before me in the flesh. I could feel my cock growing hard in my pants from her mere presence. I was speechless, staring awkwardly. My wife spoke, breaking the spell.
"Wow, honey," Jenny said with a giggle, "I know she's beautiful, but get a grip."
I snapped out of my frozen state but was still confused as to what was going on. How was this possible?
"Nice to meet you," I mumbled, then added, "I saw the moving truck outside, so I figured we had new neighbors."
Up close, there were many things about Mona that were different than the woman in my dreams. The real Mona had beautifully detailed tattoos over much of her exposed skin. The one that covered her midriff depicted an ornately drawn heart, surrounded by crimson roses on a twisty vine. The thorns from the vine penetrated the heart, in places, causing it to drip blood. She was also shorter than I realized, barely over five feet in height. The longer I stared at her, the less she resembled my dream lover, to the point that I soon began to think that maybe I had overreacted.
"Desdemona and her husband Lazarus are in a band, honey," Jenny chimed in. "Isn't that cool?"
"A band?" I asked, separating myself from our guest and positioning myself next to my wife. "What kind of band?"
"We play a mix of styles," Mona explained. "Mostly gothic metal, with a little EDM mixed in to get the bodies moving."
I was gradually shaking off my initial surprise. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that there was no way Mona was my dream lover. It was just a coincidence. I tried to put the thought out of my mind completely.
"Anything we'd know?" I asked. "What's the name of your band?"
"Her Demonic Majesty," Mona explained. "And I doubt you've ever heard our songs unless you're into our style of music. We're pretty popular in a very niche sort of way. We're big in South America and Scandinavia."
I guess being in a gothic metal band explained Mona's look. She was dressed in something resembling a cross between a gypsy, a stripper, and a character in a Victorian-era vampire movie.
"Your husband," I began hesitating at his name.
"Lazarus," Mona supplied.
"Lazarus?" I asked. "Like in the Bible?"
"Exactly," she said, smiling sensually. "The one who was dead but rose back to life."
"Where's he?" I asked.
"Oh, he's resting. You'll get to meet him tomorrow night." Mona replied.
I must have had a puzzled expression as I asked, "We will?"
Jenny spoke up, "Mona has invited us to a house warming party at their place tomorrow night."
"Oh, I see," I replied.
Mona drifted to our back door and gripped the knob. "I better get back to unpacking, but it was so nice to finally meet you. Don't forget the party tomorrow. I hope you both get to come."
There was something about the tone of her voice and the way she said that last word that had my cock twitching back to life. I was also puzzled by her use of the word "finally." Why did she say that? She just moved in.
"Sounds great," I said. Mona smiled and stepped outside. My gaze followed her as she walked across our patio and out of sight.
"What do you think of our new neighbor?" Jenny asked me after a few silent seconds passed.
"She seems nice," I said, downplaying my reaction.
Jenny grabbed my boner through my pants. "Based on how hard your cock is, I think she was more than just nice."
I could feel myself blushing and was about to comment when Jenny slid out of her chair, dropped to her knees, and unzipped my pants.
"It's ok," she said as she pulled my cock out and stroked it in front of her mouth, "I thought she was hot as fuck, too."
She wrapped her lips around the head of my boner and started sucking me off. That's when I noticed the open bottle of wine on the table and a pair of glasses. I wondered how long Desdemona had been here and was about to ask when Jenny took my cock into her throat, and all thought of sexy neighbors went out the window.
Chapter 5
The intense blowjob led to a three-hour session of sex that started in the kitchen, moved to the family room, then culminated in the master bedroom. Jenny was insatiable, filled with a lust that I have not seen from her in years. Her orgasms were powerful and numerous. Finally, after I blew my third load into her, she collapsed on the bed, exhausted.
Jenny was out cold, but I was wide awake and starving after all that physical effort, so I went downstairs to grab a snack. I made a cheese and fruit plate and sat down at the kitchen table to eat it. We hadn't cleaned up the wine, so I decided to pour myself a glass. When I picked up the bottle, I noticed the label had the same design on it that I had seen on Mona's abdomen.
In the center was a plump heart, of deep ruby red, surrounded by emerald green vines and leaves, with dark crimson roses. Up close, I was able to see more details. Extending from the heart were two metallic spikes, one shaped like an arrow and the other a plus sign, which I recognized as the universal symbols for male and female genders. Blood dripped from each.
In an ornate, gothic font above the symbol were the words: "Her Demonic Majesty." Holy Shit, in addition to having a metal band, they had their own brand of wine. They called this particular wine Blood of the Fallen.
I poured a sample into one of the glasses. The wine was a dark, blood-red color, which I assumed was where the name came from. It was full-bodied and semi-sweet to the palate. It gave me the impression of opulence and was clearly not a cheap, mass-market product.
Curious about our new neighbors, I grabbed our iPad and did a quick search on the band. The first thing I found was a shitload of pictures that depicted them in costume, either in concert or in what I assumed were promotional photos. Many of the images featured naked or scantily clad men, women, and people of ambiguous gender. They depicted a mix of soft-core porn and occult themes, including rituals, vampirism, blood, and bondage.
I pulled up a few video clips of the band in action. They were better than I expected. Mona had an angelic voice and sang the clean parts with an incredible stage presence that sucked you into the experience. The male singer, who I assumed was Lazarus, was tall, extremely muscular, with long black hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. He didn't really sing. It was more of a growl or snarl that bordered on screaming. I couldn't understand most of what he was saying, but it evoked strong emotions. According to the comments, he sang in a tongue called Enochian, which was purported to be the language of angels and demons, as taught by Edward Kelly to Sir John Dee, physician to Queen Elisabeth.
Most of the concert clips appeared to be shot in a cave-like club. In many of those videos, some of the dancers appeared to pretend to have sex. The more I watched, the more graphic it seemed.
In one song, called Worship Me, Mona sat on an altar, with her legs spread, and forced several of the costumed dancers to kneel and give her oral sex while she sang. It looked incredibly realistic, especially since Mona was completely naked. Her singing shifted between opera-like arias to moans and cries of sexual pleasure. Watching her had me rock hard again.
On Wikipedia, I learned the symbol tattooed on Mona's midriff and used on their wine bottles was the band's logo. Apparently, it was derived from a magic sigil that depicted the hermaphrodite, a being possessing both male and female genitalia. That was weird, but a lot of metal bands had an androgynous schtick, so I didn't think it was anything unusual.
I glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that it was nearly three in the morning. I'd stayed up all night, watching videos and researching Mona, Lazarus, and Her Demonic Majesty.
I turned off the iPad, plugged it into the charger, and cleaned up what was left of the wine. As I made my way back upstairs, I heard the strange howling cry of an animal. In all the years we have lived in that house, I'd never heard anything like it before. It unnerved me and sent a chill down my spine.
I double-checked the security system from the console in our bedroom, making sure all the doors and windows were closed, and the alarm was active. I don't know why I felt uneasy, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was prowling around our house, something that didn't like me.
I slid under the covers and turned out the lamp on my nightstand. Jenny wrapped her arms around me, spooning me, and whispered, "You didn't get enough earlier? You had to wake me up and fuck me one last time. I need some sleep, so give me a break until breakfast, ok?"
What was she talking about? I hadn't fucked her again; I wasn't even in the room. She must've been having the dream again. I made a mental note to talk to the doctor about that too. Were we possibly having some kind of shared dementia?
"Yeah, ok," I said as I kissed her hand. I lay there for a long time, unable to sleep, listening to the sound of Jenny's breathing, the wind in the trees, and the periodic howl of some unknown beast.
Chapter 6
Fortunately, once I did fall asleep, I didn't have any nocturnal visitor. It was a good thing it was a Saturday because I slept like the dead until nearly eleven when Jenny woke me with a nudge. If it had been a work night, I would have been in deep shit.
"Are you getting up today?" she asked as she continued to shake my shoulder. "Or should I go to our massage appointment by myself?"
Oh yeah, our massage, shit. I had totally forgotten that it was the day for our monthly couples massage. I cracked one eye, cautiously. Jenny was smiling at me, holding a mug of fresh coffee.
"My savior," I said, sitting up and taking the mug. I sipped the bitter, dark roast and groaned as I imagined the caffeine traveling through my system to do its job.
"I made breakfast. Hurry your ass up, and we might have time for a quickie before we go to get our bodies rubbed," Jenny said seductively as she sauntered toward the door, hiking up her long t-shirt to show me her naked ass.
That was all the incentive I needed. I threw off the covers and chased after my wife, naked as the day I was born. She giggled playfully and ran down the stairs, stripping off the shirt and throwing it at me. When she reached the marble floor, she slid across it on her sock feet, then disappeared through the butler pantry.
