Miranda's Lips

Ch. 1: I've Missed You

Miranda was a special woman; she was perpetually 24 years old. Not because of plastic surgery, but because she was half vampire and half succubus. Miranda was despised by the vampire community because she could not turn someone into a vampire, she could only drink their life energy or their blood, killing them. The only way she could bring another life into the world was through her succubus side, which was no easy feat. Succubi need a lot of sperm collecting to get them pregnant, but even then her vampiric undead womb may prevent that from happening. Regardless, she had an insatiable sexual appetite. Humans are just like glasses of lemonade; they're wonderful refreshments but only made her thirstier. A true satisfier was her partner, Virgil.

As an incubus, Virgil could shape-shift into anybody or anything, but he preferred to be a 27-year-old male with short, light brown hair, a strong jaw and dimples covered in eternal 5-o-clock shadow. His dark brown eyes had a depth of color to them, a purple undertone that captivated anyone who gazed into them, even men.

The two of them together wore timeless clothing, but in the winter their pea coats, hats and boots disguised them. They enjoyed their walk through the night in the city of London,, arm in arm, breathing in the cold air as flurries blew against their colder cheeks. While Virgil ganderd at the women who walked past, Miranda could hear the hearts beating -- Ba-dum ba-dum in the people passing by. She could see their red cheeks and red noses glaring at her, the warmth leaving their fingertips into their torso, the down-feather coats keeping in all the heat to keep their hearts pumping warm, thick blood. Virgil nudged her with his elbow to snap her out of whatever she was thinking. She looked up into his eyes (oh, so gorgeous!), he raised his eyebrows slightly at her and looked forward; She blinked her eyes tightly and kept her composure.

"Virgil darling, I hope we're almost home. All this walking has me parched." Miranda said in her British accent.

"Patience my precious; I assure you we've only a few blocks more. You're going to be thrilled." Virgil replied.

"It better be, what with all this glorification you speak of. Oh, how I'll miss our ranch in America." She commented. Virgil remained silent, smiling to himself. He reminisced on good times in an abandoned shelter; privacy, yet vulnerability.

"Here we are, as I promised," Virgil announced as he fumbled with the lock. He opened the door of a two-family apartment and went up the stairs. They creaked underneath their feet. He opened the next door; it was indeed an improvement from the literal barnyard they squatted at in America. The furniture was already moved in, from the cashmere rugs to the ultra suede couch, Virgil went through his phases of interior decor to suit the ages, but remained his taste for lavish goods. For once he picked something they could both agree on. Even otherworldly men had bad taste.

Whether it was some sort of instinct, or she was just savagely horny, Miranda lurked into their new bedroom. The king-sized bed just barely fit with two mahogany dressers.

"Ehh, I see the cowhide rug is still along for the ride." Miranda said to herself a little too loudly, dropping her British accent, back to her natural slurry American one. Her words sound like a cat purring with the rhythm of a jazz tenor saxophone; seductive, yet interesting.

"Oh, posh! As eef you don't loike 'im!" Virgil laid on the British to a comical thickness.

Miranda slid off the muff from her arm and smacked him in the chest with it as she smiled big without audible laughter. She threw it on their bed.

"So..." Miranda purred. "I do believe it's time for a house warming party." She proposed while unbuttoning his wool coat.

"Yes, indeed." Virgil spoke like a snake, super smooth, with a booming, testosterone-fueled bass powering every word like a staccato. Every word was deliberate. Every word emphasized, sounding precisely picked, as if rehearsed, but that snake tongue smoothed over any hesitation or in-a-can predictability. It wasn't rehearsal, it was centuries of experience.

"However," Virgil interrupted as she was on the last button. "I do believe you are parched." Virgil rubbed the back of his hand along her pale, cold cheek and presented a pint-sized glass bottle filled with blood. "I warn you, it may be a tad cold."

His words blurred out of Miranda's ears as she snatched it out of his hand before he even finished his words. She twisted off the Bat-winged top and chugged. The blood was in fact cold, but the consistency remained thick and velvety like a runny egg yolk. She licked her lips and thanked him, embarrassed for not thanking him before the drink. She looked in to his kaleidoscope eyes with her light brown and pink eyes. They were large and shiny, lined black underneath, not from eye liner, but from excessive bottom eye lashes. As a vampire-succubus she was exceptionally alluring. Her eye size and color made her look cute, to the point of gullibility, but the stares she gave with them indicated otherwise. Her eyes made women envious, but magnetized male prey.

"How about we down-size the house warming," Virgil pushed her hair behind her ear, bent down to it and hissed. "...Into a bedroom-warming party."

The words froze Miranda, her undead heart skipping a beat. Virgil was full-bred incubus, and quite possibly a thousand years older than she, maybe even older. It was evident in his powers of seduction. While Vampires were only pretty to attract prey, a full succubus or incubus is born for sexual pleasure, their abilities rely on their physical appearance, only getting more and more exaggerated through years of strength by soul-sucking prowess.

Virgil smiled wryly. "I'll take that as a 'yes'." He sat her down on their bed and kneeled down to begin unzipping her knee-high boots. She took her coat off and pulled her turtleneck over her head. Her C-cup breasts were contained in a cleavage-showing bra. It wasn't a push-up bra, that's just the way her breasts looked. The boots were off, showing her black opaque stockings under a knitted pencil-skirt. She slid the skirt off her 37" hips. The stockings were full, going up to her waist.

"Oh come now, one can't have drinks without dinner. I hope you didn't think of resisting me this evening." Virgil teased as he rolled the stocking off with his manicured fingers, gliding down her porcelain thighs, moving constantly as they collected more fabric underneath them. Running along the side of her knees, then her shapely calves, and finally at her delicate ankles, he reveled in her beautiful legs. He yanked off the collected fabric off her curvy feet and held them in his hands as he remained kneeling on the floor.

"Virgil, has anyone told you your fetishes show your age?" Miranda inquired, raising an eyebrow as she gazed at him marveling her feet. She believed foot fetishism was for old men.

"Oh my dear, I swear they get more and more beautiful every time I see them." he stated as he whipped off his coat. He whipped out his tongue and shifted it into a literal snake tongue and wrapped it around both her feet as he unbuttoned his silk dress shirt. Thin but warm, he licked the sensitive instep of her left foot. The sensation made Miranda lay on her back and moan. Now licking the bottom of her feet, he unzipped his trousers, showing off his sculpted hips, then stood up. Virgil ran his fingers through his hair, making it blonde and long, between his shoulder blades while stepping off his black dress shoes.

"How about some Fabio?" He stood there with his unbuttoned shirt and unzipped pants, framing his muscular body.

"You can get away with the cowhide rug, but that's it." Miranda teased and winked at him. He shook his head and made his hair return back to short and brown.

Virgil put his hands on either side of Miranda, hovering directly above her and jokingly whispered. "But the ladies always like Fabio." All she could see were his eyes as they smiled in to hers. Their sex wasn't couple sex, it was best friend sex. For them, sex was like how humans drink alcohol, it was a social thing to do. She peeled his shirt off and licked his hairless chest, then pulled his pants off. He wasn't wearing any underwear as he never had a need for them. He kicked his socks off and put his weight on his knees along the side of the bed as he pulled her bra straps off her shoulders. Miranda had small, soft shoulders, another body part he greatly admired. Living for thousands of years made Virgil grow a fondness for every body part of a woman. Right above them was her long, swan neck. He kissed her shoulders, leaning his elbows on the bed. His kisses were powerful even when they weren't on the lips, like waves of electricity, there is no doubt this creature was pure, walking, breathing, sex.

He kissed her across her clavicle and on to her cleavage while unhooking her bra, where he stopped, flicked a gaze into her eyes and squeezed her arms against her body, forcing her breasts to pop out of her bra, revealing soft pink, pointy nipples. He pulled the bra cups down and she looped her arms out the straps. He took her sweet left nipple into his mouth and began to suck on it, gently squeezing her breast at the same time to make milk come out easier. Her nipples tasted like sugary olive oil, sweet and fruity. For a succubus, the hornier she got, the more milk her breasts made.

He stopped squeezing with his hand and slid her thong off her hips, but her vaginal juices stayed clinging to them, stretching along with them until they dripped between her legs and on to their Egyptian cotton sheets. The thong was pulled down to her knees where they just fell off on their own.

Miranda hugged his body as he suckled from her, succubus milk was very potent to a human, but to Virgil it was a simple rare treat. Human breast milk is to Miranda's milk like milk chocolate is to dark chocolate; it still tasted good, but nowhere near as complex, rich and flavorful.

He pressed the palm of his hand against her eager pussy and grew a tongue on to it, to lick her clitoris and inner walls. She moaned loudly, turning into screams, her arousal only making more milk. Her breasts began leaking on their own. He smashed them to touch her dripping nipples together and sucked them at the same time, moaning at the good flavor. His penis expanded into 8 inches of length and 2 inches of girth. He relished being able to stretch her eternal-virgin pussy out. He stopped sucking, removed his hand, returned it to normal and turned her hips to the side to mount her. Miranda was so horny, she hadn't had sex in 2 days, an agonizing time period for her, as if she hadn't eaten in 2 days.

"Miranda." he called to her, like he was about to ask her to pass the salt, while holding his massive dick in his hand.

"Yes?" She responded, breathing it out heavily, desperately. She began to drool out the corner of her mouth from pure sexual anticipation.

He returned to his British accent for this one statement. "Nothing, I like when you look at me the moment I cram my fat shaft in your tiny hole."

Miranda's eyes glimmered. He thrust into her with ferocity. She didn't need to adjust to him. He grabbed her tight, 25" waist and slammed himself repeatedly in her. The angle of her hips made him go in even deeper, watching her left breast bounce freely while she laid on her right side. The milk stayed steadily spraying out as he fucked her. Her eyes were closed and she smiled in total ecstasy as she moaned loudly with every thrust.

"Virgil, this feels so good!" She shouted.

"Well, if you can make coherent words, it isn't good enough." He rotated her to be laying on her back with her feet pointing to the ceiling as he held her legs. He went faster and harder. A human wouldn't have made it this long. He changed the texture of his penis to feel ribbed. Miranda screamed and looked into his sexually-angry eyes as he grunted.

"Your tits look bigger, you desperate slut. They squirt milk but keep getting bigger, huh?" He sounded like a mad dog as he spat out cruel words to her. "Tell me how much sense that makes! I bet if I fucked you 'til morning you'd still be making more milk and getting bigger." Miranda was at an E-cup. Virgil grabbed her hips, lifted them off the bed and slammed her hard. One, two, three. Every slam made a gush of milk jet out her nipples. Virgil turned his tongue into a dog's tongue and lapped at the sprays a couple times and pressed it hard against her nipples, making the milk squirt in different angles, then put his mouth over both her nipples at the same time, letting them spray in his mouth without sucking as he continued to fuck her. He knew eventually she'd run out of milk, but wasn't trying to drink it all, however he could taste the difference of her milk when it was 1/3 gone, which it was.

He rubbed his thumb against her clitoris to make her orgasm. She shrieked with his rub, and started to twitch.

"Ah, Virgil, ahh!" He took her breasts out of his mouth and stared at them. He knew when she came she'd squirt a spectacular show. He picked up the pace and fucked her faster and rubbed her clit harder. With one loud scream she orgasmed, gripped the bed sheets and jetted two fountains of milk in the air, arching off the bed and on to the hard wood floor with loud splashes. Although she still had milk in her, they no longer sprayed and she was back to her C-cup. She was exhausted, but Virgil hadn't cum yet.

He continued to thrust himself in her as she caught her breath. The tired, sleepy look on her face brought him closer to the edge, he loved watching women sleep, but when she looked up at him with her child-like eyes it was as if she had woken up from a deep slumber, still groggy and emotionless. He screamed as his cock pulsed roughly two ounces (59 mL) of cum in her body. It made her feel warm inside.

He breathed heavily and lay down on the bed next to her. "Come here, Miranda." she rolled over and they held each other in their wet bed. "I've missed you so much." He said to her as they fell asleep together. Miranda was too exhausted to vocally respond, she simply brushed her face against his chest and dozed off.