Chapter 5

One good thing about being a vampire. When your government issued car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and you kick it, the car knows its been kicked. I surveyed the dented side of the vehicle and added one more good thump for spite.

I checked my cell phone. Of course there was no signal. I swear, the only purpose of those infernal devices is to work when you don't want calls. I looked at my watch. Just about 3 AM. Being who I am, I naturally check the weather forecast for the time of sunrise. I had about three hours.

The car wasn't like my van, now parked in a Federal parking lot in DC. That I could have climbed in and simply pulled the curtains. Here, it appeared my only option would be to crawl into the trunk and lock it. Fat chance. With my luck someone would pop it open at high noon, leaving me a small pile of dust. So I needed to catch a ride.

That didn't look real promising either. I had been wandering the mountains where North Carolina and Tennessee meet, trying to get some hint of the trail of the vampire serial killer I had been tasked with finding. I hadn't found any trail and I hadn't seen much traffic at all lately. Okay, part of that had to do with the fact that I was lost. I mean, I'm a vampire, not a walking GPS Locator.

In case someone did show up, I figured I better dress for success. I quickly changed out of my pantsuit into a blouse and a short skirt. I debated about pantyhose. Oh heck, I had some sheer stockings. Might as well show some leg. Quick adjustments added a garter belt and I put my panties back on. Hey, its pretty unlikely that a rapist would survive an encounter with me. The last one didn't. However there's no sense in tempting fate.

I had just donned a pair of low heels and grabbed a small shoulder bag to put the important things in when I heard engines. Two of them. Motorcycles. I leaned against the trunk, folded my arms and waited. Headlights came around the corner and swept over me. I casually hooked one heel on the rear bumper, letting my skirt ride up. I know its a cheap trick, but it usually works.

It did tonight too. One bike slowed and stopped, followed by the other. A deep but unmistakably female voice called out. "Nice legs. Want a lift there sweet cheeks?"

"Sure." I really didn't anticipate trouble. I had once had a run in with a group of Hell's Angels in the 1950's but they were good sports about my kicking their asses and invited me to join their group.

"I'm Ivey," the woman who had been speaking said. "That's Jo Beth on the other Hog and Sally May riding bitch with her. Get on." I straddled the rear of the bike and put my arms around her. Pretty solid. She shifted into gear and released the clutch handle. We sped off and I wondered if this might not end up being an enjoyable evening after all.

About an hour's ride from where they picked me up we arrived at a large house sitting well off the road. The bikes were shut down in a spacious garage on the side of the building and we all went upstairs for a longneck beer. I needed one and knocked it back just about as fast as the two riders did. I, however, used a bottle opener.

The two butches appeared pretty similar to me. That's probably some politically incorrect femme thought, I guess. Its hard for me to tell powerfully built women in matching leather pants and jackets apart. At least Ivey was blonde and Jo Beth was brunette. I had the feeling that in bed, assuming that we used one, they would be even harder to identify.

While the butches tended to their machines I struck up a conversation with Sally May. She was slender and in her late teens. She had a hill accent that was deeper than my father's brogue had been. She was flushed with excitement at what was going on. I hoped she would feel the same way in a few hours. I, at least, knew what was going on and rather looked forward to it. From what I could gather, Sally May had run away from home and grabbed the first offered ride. I worried about her.

When Ivey took my arm and urged me towards "someplace more private", I went willingly, but with my ears open. Assuming Sally May was really whom she appeared to be, her desire to see the world and experience things was going to land her in trouble. Hell, look where it led me. I was planning on having a good time, but I had already decided I wasn't going to let her get hurt.

Ivey led me into a fairly large room. It actually did have a bed, along with some assorted mismatched furniture. I decided to check out the bed, hoping that it would be clean of a least larger vermin. A bedbug bites me and its going to die. But I do have some standards for some one who was raised in a hovel. Deliberate dirt is a turn off.

Ivey's footsteps sounded behind me and then her breath was warm on my neck. Not for the same reason that mine was often on someone's, I thought. Her hands rested on my hips, then slid around me, pulling my blouse from the skirt. I felt her body press against mine. I felt something hard, and rather good size, pushing my skirt back in between my ass cheeks.

Her fingers rapidly undid the buttons on my blouse. She cupped my breasts, pulling my bra down so her fingers could capture my nipples. She began to push her hips against me, and I began to push my ass back against her.

"Oh yeah," I could almost see the fierce grin I knew was on her face. "You know what I want don't you baby? You want it too. Gonna fuck you good cutie. I bet you know what's good for you. Not that I would mind taking you anyway, but this will be fun."

This was hardly my first experience with a strapon. The first had been right around the turn of the century. The 17th Century that is. A wandering blonde bard from Greece had introduced me to the pleasures available from their use. Hers had been of carved ivory, and rather well worn as I recall. I wish I could have known her longer, but her girlfriend had a temper I thought best not to provoke. I like a woman in leather as much as the next gal, but really. Add a big sword and a long war cry, and I proved how fast I could run.

I turned around in her arms, kissed her and groped between her legs. She wasn't much of a kisser but she did have a good size basket ready for me. She pulled my blouse open and my bra down under my tits. She all but ripped my skirt off, reached around and grabbed my ass. Her fingers dug in and I moaned in anticipation.

Ivey hoisted me into the air. She leaned her head to me and took my breast in her mouth. First she sucked it deep, holding it as my nipple hardened. Then she let it out of her mouth until she could catch the nipple in her teeth. Grinning up at me, she suddenly bit down upon it. Hard. I moaned and kicked. It actually didn't hurt as much as I think she believed it did, and hell, I was in the mood for it anyway tonight. I grabbed her head and shoved it back pulling my breast deliciously taunt.

"Why you little slut!" Ivey exclaimed with glee. She moved to my other breast and clamped her teeth as hard as she could on that nipple. Her hand ran up under my skirt and pushed my panties to one side. I reached down between us, undoing her belt and freeing her strapon. With a guttural sound uttered through her clenched teeth she dropped me right onto the head of the dildo.

I never settle for just a part of something. I wrapped my legs around her and settled my hands on her shoulders. With a deep grunt I forced my body down and her cock went all the way up inside me. The bulbous head hit my spot in that first thrust and I whooped with glee.

"Now butch, show me what you got."

Her eyes widened. I don't think she had ever been challenged like that. She all but slammed me up against the concrete wall. Pinning me there, her hips blurred as she fucked me. The rough, pitted surface scraped over my back and my ass. Anyone else would have been bleeding and crying. I was yelling for more. She dug her fingers deeply into my ass. Drawing almost completely out of me with each stroke, she tried to make me into a pancake with each thrust.