Jayne Renault

Musings of a Smut Queen
Decease to Exist

Decease to Exist

For some time now, I’ve been meaning to write a story based on the time I accidentally had sex in a cemetery with a former lover whom I like to refer to as the Vampire, but I kept lacking the inspiration and wherewithal to bring it to fruition.

Until now.

I guess I just needed some Halloween energy and a little push from a very on-the-nose Wicked Wednesday prompt.

***

I know it was still summertime because the mosquitoes were particularly thirsty that night.

He came right up to the door and rapped three times — he never used the door bell — and waited on the stoop for me to appear, just like as he always did. I deliberately never invited him inside because I wasn’t sure I was prepared to deal with the consequences; he never pressed the matter because I don’t think he was either.

The sky was dark but the gibbous moon glowed high above the rooftops. He looked the same as every time, but it didn’t change how seeing him made my stomach squeezed through my knees to curl up in my soles every time. He greeted me in his soft tenor that was just a halftone flat. With a single note, he could freeze my pulse while melting my blood to the desired consistency.

We had no predetermined destination. Though it didn’t much matter where we were going; I would have followed him willingly right into the gates of Hell if he’d only have asked.

I only knew we’d stopped because my eyes were trained on the long fingers of his right hand when he shifted to Park. I watched as walked around the front of the vehicle and into a clearing that I never realized existed. Just at the edge of the shadows, he surveyed the slight slope of the ground with his hands on his hips.

“It’s perfect,” he said loud enough for me to hear each syllable clear as night.

He came back to find me where I still sat, in the passenger seat with my feet dangling towards the ground. He leaned in, peering at me with his black eyes, then breathed me in as he kissed down my neck. I was paralyzed from his lips down, overwhelmed by the sudden, unexpected connection. He wasn’t known to be so generous with his touch so early on in the night.

“Come,” he said offering his hand.

He was always a little cold to the touch, but it never shocked me.

Holding me tightly in the grasp, he opened the trunk with his other hand. He passed a blanket to me, then another, and closed the trunk again. Under the light of the streetlamp, his wicked smile glowed when he flashed it at me. I couldn’t help but smile back. Without another word, we walked hand in hand into the shadows, until the car was swallowed up by the horizon.

I didn’t try to say anything. My words were stuck at the bottom of my throat.

He shook one blanket loose to spread it across the ground and invited me to sit.

“Please,” he said, gesturing with an open hand.

Obediently, I sat.

Finding his seat next to me, he tucked a stray lock of my hair behind me ear. “I’m very glad to see you tonight, dear,” he said.

My pussy swallowed all the saliva from my mouth as his words snaked through me.

“Your call was unexpected,” I said. “I’d have assumed you’d be busy on a night like this.”

It was rare to see him about in the summer. The nights simply weren’t long enough.

“I found myself thinking about you.” He swatted a mosquito away before it buzzed too close to my face. “And then I just had to see you.”

Then his fingertips found the round of my cheek and slipped back to my hair line. Every hair on my body stood at attention as he clasped the back of my skull.

“So,” he said and paused. I assumed he was looking into my eyes, but I couldn’t quite see his.

“So,” I whispered through the wet cement in my mouth.

And with that, he kissed me, gluing my eyes shut with the force of his mouth on mine. His claws grasped tightly at my roots and craned my head back while I pushed into him, encouraging him to dig deeper. I was so dizzied by his lips on my pulse that I didn’t notice that I was melting down toward the earth.

Just as suddenly, he slowed. Without loosening his grip on me, he pressed his forehead to mine and growled on his exhale.

“It’s been too long since I last tasted you,” he said, sneaking a kiss under my strained jawline to punctuate the statement.

The evening breeze skirted over my shoulders and tugged my eyelids open. The darkness was growing more familiar and I could see more of what danced between the shadows above me, including the glow of the moon on the whites of his eyes. He knelt over me, caging me with his limbs. The forged pendant that hung around his neck dangled over my breast while he drank me in with hellfire in his gaze.

“I can hear how much you want me,” he said with a knowing smirk.

There was no denying it. Anyone in a one mile radius could probably feel the tremor of my pulse quaking the earth beneath us.

“You know I do,” I said, nearly a whisper as I feigned sheepishness, turning to avoid his gaze.

“Tell me,” he said guiding my chin back to centre. “Tell me how much you want this.”

I popped the button on my pants and shoved my hand down past my underwear into the mess of need and fury between my legs. He kept his eyes glued to my face, waiting for me to look at him.

“Why don’t I just show you?” I locked eyes with him as I smeared one slick finger across his lips.

He swooned, flicking his tongue over my fingertip, and softly bit down into its fleshy pad.

“I still want to hear you say it.”

Holding his gaze still, I shimmied beneath him and out of my pants, wrapped my bare legs around him, and said nothing.

He laughed and shook his head at me before pulling the second blanket over us — protection from the breeze, and the bloodsuckers buzzing at all sides. As he slid down my torso, the heat of his breath and our bodies mixed with my heady arousal under our makeshift tent.

“Tell me,” he said between the light nips he planted on my inner thigh.

“Say it,” he said after every tongue stroke of his flat tongue between my inner lips.

“Say it!” he growled as he thrust his fingers inside me.

“Do it,” he demanded as I teetered on the edge of climax.

Stubbornly holding my tongue, I clung to his face between my thighs. My back arched so intensely that my face fled from the safety of the blankets. As I gulped in the cool night air, my flipped gaze fell upon the dozens of carved monoliths not ten feet away from us, protruding down from the sky, pointing to the sea of stars below.

Then, when he whined “Please” into my cunt, I broke.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I wailed to the night. “I want it, take me, let me go!”

As his teeth gripped my flesh, release tore through me and looking at the curious cemetery in the distance, I fell once again to my death.

***

Prompt #335: Cemetery

19 comments found

  1. Ah yes La petite mort – he sounds like a guy I would followed into the gates of hell too – I had a fumble in a cemetery once and have fucked many times outside but there must be something about that moment of climax – so alive yet knowing all around is death …

  2. I love the your description of him and the nature of your relationship at the onset of this piece, as well as your use of figurative language! The English teaching is getting to me.

  3. “I popped the button on my pants and shoved my hand down past my underwear into the mess of need and fury between my legs.” I love this line, such a brilliant description of a wet cunt.

    Mollyx

Go on, show me your words.

%d bloggers like this: