Something different, just for fun x
****
Darren finished tinkering with his car and climbed out from under it, wiping his hands on a grease rag as he crossed the tidy lawn, watching the sizzling sun sink to the horizon.
Darkness approached rapidly as he went through the house, turning on lights and checking on dinner. Once yesterday's pie was thoroughly heated, he sank onto the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table and tucked in.
At 45, Darren was in great shape; tall with broad shoulders, black hair flatteringly peppered with grey, solid abs and intense blue eyes. A lot of women went out of their way to flirt with him on the odd occasions he went into town for supplies. Some were more brazen, perhaps the most tenacious was a local teacher who decided to let her car run out of fuel as she was passing his house.
Though her excuse for being out that way was clearly bullshit, Darren good-naturedly re-fuelled her car, kindly pointing to a crude spare outhouse when she asked to use his bathroom. When the desperate woman hinted about the incredible scent of whatever he had cooking wafting from his house, Darren explained he only had enough for one and it was the same stew that could be purchased from the diner on her way back to town.
Darren didn't like manipulative women. Especially the ones who tried to corner him. It was the reason he lived all alone on the property, relatively isolated from town. He'd once dreamed of a wife, kids, the happy family portrait. Eventually the dream weakened, faded, then completely dissolved into nothing. It just wasn't possible for a man in his position. He couldn't even go on a fucking date.
After polishing off the pie, he licked the plate. The etiquette failure was funny to him, besides there being no one to offend. His tongue had just finished curling up to the porcelain edge when he heard something outside. Not an approaching car or passing traffic. Something right out the front his house.
Gently placing the plate on the coffee table, he reached behind his feet for the shotgun lining the couch base. Checking it was loaded, he quietly stood and began to check the windows. Every one of them still had a thin layer of undisrupted salt across the pane. The front door bolt looked like cheap bling because it was pure silver and no one in their right mind would waste that much silver securing an old house. Except Darren.
Taking a deep breath, Darren unlocked the door, edged it wide with his boot and aimed the gun at the girl on his doorstep. She was in her late teens at most, with long red hair, even longer legs and a disarmingly cheeky smile. Her denim shorts were fashionably frayed and riding up into her crotch, and her shirt was a lovely white that brightened the rest of her flawless face. From her dainty blue sandals to the top of her luxuriant hair, the girl was breathtaking.
"Darren! That's rude!" she exclaimed at the double barrel. When he continued to stare, she tilted her head with an appreciative smirk. "You look old."
"You look dead," he irritably countered.
"Touché," she grinned. Tossing her hair, she cast a casual glance around the property before fixing glowing brown eyes on him, letting her gaze run down his body and up to clash with his steely glare. "You're still a total hunk. Not going to invite me in?"
"Not on your never-ending life," he growled, and fired at her face.
***
Darren came to, blinking at his bedroom ceiling. It was still night. He was in bed. Naked.
A deceptively musical voice cut through his surprise.
"You're back," the voice said cheerfully. "I was starting to worry about that ol' ticker."
"Fuck!" Darren shouted, pulling against the ropes on his wrists and ankles, feeling really stupid when nothing gave. Focusing, he looked around then glared at the girl perched on the stool by his desk, prettily batting her lashes at him.
"Why, I'd love to," she purred, biting the tip of her finger. She twirled on the stool before leaping onto the bed.
"Get the fuck away from me, Katya!" Darren snapped, too angry to stop futilely struggling.
Katya sighed heavily, tracing his chest, letting her hands smooth down the tops of his thighs, her eyes on his twitching, rapidly lengthening cock. "I don't know, Daz. Our favourite soldier is kinda standing to attention."
"How did you find me?" Darren glowered, consciously ignoring his rock-hard erection.
"You had me seriously stumped for a while," she admitted, idly tracing the pulsing veins on his cock and shivering with lust. "Fuck, I really want to drink you sometimes."
"How, Katya?" Darren demanded, chest heaving indignantly. "I crossed an ocean. I left no tracks!"
"I'll always find you, Daz," Katya crooned, her sexy mouth curved to a wicked smile. "Always."
Darren involuntarily shuddered when her tongue licked from the base of his aching balls to the tip of his cock. "W-Well, how the fuck did you get in?"
Katya grinned, flashing a bright row of perfect teeth. "You forgot to top up the bathroom window ledge. Salt can dissolve if you have too hot a shower, if you know what I mean. I think you know what I mean."
Darren blushed furiously, realising she would have been watching him for a time. "You little bitch!"
"And theeeen," Katya sang as though he hadn't spoken, "when you went to bed, I sneaked some yummy sedatives into your pie, so you'd be ready to pass out on me when I came back."
Darren was genuinely stunned. "I check the salt every day. The bathroom ledge was ample."
"Yeah, but it's been two years and you're getting on." Katya lowered her head and licked his nipple. "You didn't notice it was flour?"
"You fucking bitch."
"Again with the 'fucking'! Such a potty mouth!" she chastised, slipping from the bed to peel her shorts down. She didn't have panties on. "Or just a one-track mind? Come on, you missed me a little."
The dainty white shirt settled at her hips, and Darren got an eyeful of her plump pussy, and some wetness on her thigh. Her skin was mesmerizingly smooth, and like cool silk to touch; a fact he knew all too well.
Darren swore and looked away. "Untie me, Katya. I mean it."
"Or what?" she smirked, crawling up his body to press her bare pussy onto the shaft of his aching cock. "How are you going to punish me, Daz?"
Grinning at his fury, she lifted her shirt up and dropped it onto the floor. "Bet you missed these."
Darren turned to the side, but there was nowhere to go. The firm, silky breasts pressed into his face, moving in taunting circles as she slowly rubbed against him.
For a vampire, Katya's skin was relatively warm. Cooler than a human, but not the smooth, stone-cold granite of the older ones. She was a very young vampire, only 45, the same age as Darren.
They were neighbours as children, and Katya stole over the fence to play with him during the day even though her parents forbade it. There wasn't much a pair of vampires could do without being sizzled to a crisp. But they never liked her friendship with Darren. To this day Katya's parents, still happily in their physical 20's, strongly disapprove of her persistent fixation.
Katya worshipped him from the beginning; the quiet boy who always surprised her with his frank way of speaking, his humour, his expressive deep blue eyes that could be severe some moments and glowing passion the next. They were meant to be together, even he said so. It was all going splendidly until she turned nineteen and was initiated.
Then it was horrible, the worst day of her eternal life. Katya opened her heart and confessed her biggest secret and offered him what kids their age could only dream. Though she anticipated at worst he might show some reluctance, she could never have prepared for what came next.
Darren dropped her like a white-hot stone. He wanted nothing to do with her. He left town for college, left that college for a different one, tried sailing, piloting, bunkering, the Church; any endeavour that might hide him. Had he known from a young age that he'd be living life on the run from a supernatural pest, he'd have studied to become an astronaut.
Katya wasn't the only one devastated. Darren went through his own heartbreak when his childhood sweetheart vanished for days without explanation, wondering what he did wrong, whether there was someone else. Then Katya crawled through his bedroom window in the middle of the night like a thing from a horror movie, beautifully radiant but not the same warm-blooded girl he anticipated proposing to one day.
Darren still had nightmares about Katya's sudden change, especially her eyes; the soft chocolate brown all of a sudden frighteningly bright and hypnotically pretty. She flippantly offered immortality like it wasn't a big deal, beaming at him as though he should be over the moon about an opportunity to literally suck the life out of people. As though he'd shrug off the fact that she blatantly lied to him for more than a decade.
It didn't matter where he went, she found him every time. But he still ran. It didn't matter if it was months or years, time was all she had. The only saving grace was her daylight intolerance. Once dawn broke, he could run again, knowing she would come after him.
Darren hoped Katya would lose interest as he aged. That she would give up and find a new target to stalk. It was an uncharitable thought and he was ashamed for wishing it, but if he could dump the burden on another man, he would do it in a heartbeat.
But Katya's devotion was unusual, even for a vampire, and seemed to transcend beyond the physical. The love she felt as a human only intensified when she turned. The crippling rejection that shattered her non-beating heart only made her more determined to have him.
It sucked, because Darren desperately wanted to fuck a woman without expecting Katya to show up and rip her throat out. Even in broad daylight, he wouldn't put it past her to find a way to ruin things. He sometimes wondered if vampire hunters existed. But if they did, Darren didn't want to think about how he'd explain his situation. They'd definitely laugh at him.
