Our Infinite Sadness

Anything But

Ben groaned with frustration beneath her. "Would you please kindly remind me again... why... home plate is off limits?"

"Partly because I'm an old fashioned girl, but that's a lost cause. Mostly, because female vampires constrict their birth canals to forty thousand pounds per square inch when sufficiently aroused. Which somewhat exceeds your mortal capacity to endure."

He tugged hard at the quilt, in an attempt to rip it out from between them, but she giggled lustily and gripped it effortlessly to keep it in place. A little tug of war ensued, through which she yielded considerably, to give him a fighting chance, and he griped, "At this point I'll take my chances."

She giggled at that, but she wouldn't let him take the quilt from between them.

He groaned again and said, "After last night, I don't think you could actually do that. Crush me to a pulp, I mean. Not that you can't, just that you wouldn't."

He took her tightly by the arms and used all his strength to try to flip the tiny girl onto her back. It was quite impossible, of course— he might as well have been tugging at the corner of a boulder— until she realized what he was trying to do. Then, she not only relented but assisted him, with one of her instant feats of superhuman athleticism, and suddenly he was on top of her, pinning her down to the bed, and her knees and calves were loosely clasped around his waist. He couldn't help himself: heady with his progress, he instinctively pressed into her obdurate crotch and tried with all his might to force open an aperture.

She pushed right back and tilted her pelvis in search of him. The quilt became increasingly insignificant. She moaned, eyes huge, mouth open in an 'o', every bit as eager for their mating as he.

The real possibility of consummation only made Edythe more feisty. "Very naughty indeed," she mused again, giggling with carnal delight.

He clenched his eyes and seethed, "Last night you said it's impossible to rape a vampire, but I need to make love with you, and I'm about to try."

Bell-like laughter. "And I said I want you to try to make love with me. I adore when you try. But we can't," she said, in such a way that sounded not much like 'no,' but very much like regret. "That is, we shouldn't. Not today."

"Because you're an old-fashioned gal. Because you're saving yourself for marriage."

Their noses were touching, and her eyes danced. "Come. Up, off me, my Benjamin. This is unfair to you. I shan't let you suffer another moment."

He groaned as he tried to rise, "Jesus, Edythe, you're hardly derelict"—

She smiled, effortlessly flipping him over, "But I am greedy. And addicted. Hopelessly addicted."

Soon enough she was on top of him again, because he had promised her that from now on she need never ask. The second time she ministered him with gentle suckling, he didn't last much longer than the first, but he did manage to guide her pelvis over his face so that he could at least attempt to return the favor.

She looked down at him and managed eye contact, vague concern on her face, as she gently grasped his girth in one little hand and cradled his delicate testicles in the other. Her cold fingers didn't wilt him in the slightest; her tender grip felt like a shock to his system, and he knew he wouldn't be feeling cold for long.

"Truth, Ben," she breathlessly demanded, "my taste? Delicious? Honestly and truly?"

He took Edythe's cold, impossibly hard yet velvet-soft bottom in both palms and pulled her crotch down to his stretched, quivering tongue. She shuddered above him with a moan, and like last night her constricting tightness yielded to his explorations. His hips thrust upward of their own accord, desperately searching for her, and she bent over his torso, taking him into her mouth. This was much less careful than before; he didn't try to hold still; he couldn't restrain himself; he needed to be deep inside her body at any cost to himself. He strained to push as much of his tongue up through her yielding, dilated hymen as he could, and her birth canal with its horrific compression force opened once again, a flower awakening to the sun, flooding his mouth and flushed cheeks with ambrosia from her deepest core.