It has been years since I had seen a man without his pants on. Well, maybe not years but either way I was starved for some cock. I know some people would be disgusted by the thought of me having such cravings.... most people.... okay, all people but at least I wasn't saying what I wanted, what I NEEDED, out loud. I'm not a pervert or whore going around asking for it. After all, sex is something best kept private. If it's public it becomes disgusting and unsatisfying. It belongs behind closed door, in private places where you let your primal side out. If you expose that side to the outside world, it becomes faded, sun bleached and uninteresting. Keep it covered until the time is right and its a rainbow of moaning, humping and sweating bodies.
I pinched the skin between my eyes. Thinking about it wasn't helping any. I breathed deep and felt 'it' push to the surface. There were two things that helped keep 'it' in check: Sex and beer. Ever since the job in Jondaline, the latter just wasn't cutting it.
"Headache?" Quince asked. I held a breath to resist the urge to throw something at him. He was part of the problem. Actually, he was all of the problem. I nodded and pulled my belt off, placing my swords on the little desk in the corner. It was away from the door and out of sight of the window. That was the problem with these little inns; Hooks by the door where it can be grabbed. Quince put his sword in a different corner. I found myself concentrating on him, a thing I tried not to do. He brought 'it' out and I'd spent most of my life fighting 'it.' This was a horrible relationship because of what we were.
"I must confess you are a very admirable demon slayer, Rival." Quince tried for small talk, something he rarely did. The compliment was a surprise but I suspect he'd been seeing 'it' come out and thought it best to be polite. "I suppose your vampire hunting skills are flawed because of... personal concerns." Personal concerns was a mild way of putting it. Truth was I was afraid he would put his sword through me if I got out of hand. Quince was a dunpeal, half bred vampire, and that made him a damn good vampire hunter. After all, his options were slay vampires, or die as one. My choices weren't as subtle.
Quince took of his coat and I could practically taste him. 'It' pushed through and I felt my face change a little. Eyes narrowed, jaw hardened and double fangs lengthened to bulge with venom. Focusing on beer, I picked up my coin purse.
"Getting a drink," I muttered quickly as I left. He didn't even get a word out before I slammed the door shut. Hopefully he wasn't too dense and took the hint I wanted to be alone. At the bottom of the stairs there were a few men in the bar. A pack of five miners in one corner tried to talk about anything but work, they smelled of turned earth and coal. At another table were three men in leather armor stained with sweat, peace keepers getting off shift. At the bar were three separate farmers, one smelling of horse, another of goats and the third of slaughtered chickens. The goat herder was talking to the chicken killer about taxes and hay and the chicken killer grunted in disinterest. I took a seat at a small table past the end of the bar but near the large fire place. It was a dark spot but it was warm and a good place to sit when one didn't want to be bothered. After I told the barmaid to get me a beer from the third keg down and to put a double shot of whiskey in it, I closed my eyes and tried to relax.
Dunpeal was a compliment for me. Truth was I was half monster. While Quince's father drank blood of humans, my father thought he would best them all and began drinking the blood of vampires. He called himself a vamp-sire. All other blood drinkers called him evil, corrupt and not worthy of the lowest pits of hell. They were right. I inherited his thirst, the most disgusting thing imaginable, and working with Quince didn't help it one bit. Not only was he appetizing to me but he didn't express any interest in a personal relationship between the two of us. And he prevented me from getting laid.
During my second drink a group of young men came in. Three of the four were good looking, and the fourth was down right gorgeous. They settled on the end of the bar, smiling and joking while telling old stories. The had been hunting, I could smell the outdoors on them along with the stench of slaughtered animals. Luckily for me, the blood of animals didn't interest me at all. Humans had little appeal but vampire blood would send me into a craze if I wasn't careful. Luckily I hadn't been around when Quince had been wounded, but it was only a matter of time.
Mulling over the ways to terminate our partnership, gorgeous caught me off guard by moving a chess piece on the table in front of me. He turned back to his friends as if nothing happened but I knew his motive. It was an attempt to bait the pretty lady drinking alone in the corner. I took it and moved one of my pieces. The first game took half an hour since he was moving from the table to the bar but eventually I got him. He hadn't expected a good game and laughed when his friends jested he got his butt kicked by a woman at chess.
"Another game?" he asked, smiling a flattering smile. I smiled a little and nodded as the barmaid brought over my fourth drink. This time he actually sat down and his friends lingered behind him. His name was James and his friends were Jack, Brend, and Kiel. They were young men dreaming of adventure and glory when in reality they'd marry a simple local girl and settle down hard into the same life style as their parents.
The bar was empty except for James and I when the innkeeper began overturning chairs. I had hoped to get lucky but I knew it was all blown to hell when Quince came down stairs. I guess my scowl was more than a scowl when I laid eyes on him because James jumped.
"Uh, it was real nice talking to you miss!" He stammered as he backed away. "H-have a safe journey!" The innkeeper stared as the boy hit the door running. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I knew what had happened and why and hated myself for it.
"...Are you alright?" Quince asked quietly. The innkeeper went about his work, assuming that Quince's arrival scared him. A big man with wide shoulders and muscles that were best described as predatory, it was an easy assumption. I finished off my drink and went up stairs with Quince following me. Not saying anything was best. In the room, Quince said nothing more. I brooded as I looked out the window, still thinking of how best to terminate our partnership. Nothing bound us together other than our loneliness. The thought of being alone made me shiver, and deep inside I wanted to cry.
"I guess you were too much woman for him, eh?" The poor joke set me off and I turned on Quince. My eyes went from green to black, the pupil expanding until there was nothing left but two buring holes. My fangs lengthened again, the venom starting to mix with my saliva, creating a bitter taste as it burned the beer out of my mouth. Quince stood still, his body paralyzed by the spell I had cast on him. Part of me wanted several things at once but I focused on one alone. He lay as if dead on the bed while I undid his pants. I hadn't seen him naked before and I took in every detail with delight before pulling up my skirt and mounting him.
Penetration is my favorite part. The undeniable sense of it happening, whether done slow and gentle or hard and fast, is pure ecstasy. I moaned softly, basking in the pleasure of the moment, relaxing all over and letting go. He tensed and I cut short my tiny triumph to see him glaring at me. Part of it was anger, part bewilderment, and there was definitely shock at the fact that I was raping him. Putting his hands on my legs, he came to a decision and smiled, something I hadn't seen him do before. "Please," he put his hands behind his head. "Continue."