Lust In The Savage Garden
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2006 by Aaron Grey

Horror Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The Vampire Lestat has come out of hiding to fill us in on the missing pieces of Anne Rice's novel, The Vampire Lestat. Lestat's intimate relationship with his immortal mother, Gabrielle and all the particulars of having an Undead Lover. Enter if you dare!

Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fan Fiction   Historical   Horror   Vampires   Incest   Mother   Son  

That's right, it's me. The Vampire Lestat. I have decided to come out of hiding yet again. Oh, it is not to find my fellows of the night or to sell undead secrets to mortals this time. I have decided to set a few things straight. A few things that Anne and that quaint editor of hers elected not to describe in my memoirs not long ago.

These are the missing pieces to "The Vampire Lestat." More precisely, the time I spent with my mother, Gabrielle before we left Paris for good.

Now before I go further, I implore you to actually read the original script. If you have not; then go buy it. It can be found at a place called Amazon for $7.99 — if you are so frugal as to desire such a superb masterpiece merely in paperback. Give Anne the money. She deserves it for sitting in that room and listening to me go on and on and on about every single nuance of my life before and after the Dark Gift. And especially for having to listen to Louis whine incessantly about love and God and even that little monster, Claudia!

(Louis, my dear Louis. He never was quite right for this sort of thing, if you ask me).

Now, where to start? I suppose I shall begin in the time immediately after I killed the wolves. Are you following? Have you read it yet? Good.

If you read closely you can see where things were left out. Oh, they edited it well, they did. It was right after my mother Gabrielle told me how she would have liked to go down to the village and just take on every man who came to her.

There was a distinct silence in the room, just as Anne stated. It was silent because I was so ashamed of the hardness my mother caused in me! I was still exhausted and in anguish over fighting first with the wolves and then with my brothers, but picturing my mother like that sent a thunderbolt to my loins. I could not help but picture myself as one of those men and wondered instantly if she meant what she had said.

She saw my hardness and my discomfort as she sat beside me on my bed. She saw it and smiled. A smile that told me she understood what I was feeling at that moment. But not only that, she also approved.

It was nothing really, but I feel that if I admitted such a personal thing to a mortal it could have at least been entered into record. Or do you not agree?

There was nothing else between us while I was still alive, except for secretive looks after that. But those things we had always shared, so nothing became of it. She was dying and I felt ashamed to have pictured her in such a lewd way as I had. For the most part, I did avoid my mother after that day.

But late at night there were times that I would come stumbling home drunk on the wine and talks with Nicki, dreaming of escaping my life of drear, and I would see my mother, fragile and beautiful by the hearth — so appealing even to my young eyes. And even in her weakened state. She was always beautiful, but never more so than when the moonlight or the glow from the fire shone across her face and her blond hair, so much like mine. I would see her and have the overwhelming desire to just kiss her and hold her and kiss her some more. But she would never have allowed that.

Or so I thought.

The night she came to me and gave me the last of her money, and with it her dying wish that I should run away with Nicholas and chase my dreams, we did kiss. She did cry in my arms and at first I simply held her. But she was not just stiff like it was portrayed.

When I pressed my lips to her soft cheek and inhaled her scent, almost smelling the death upon her, tasting the saltiness of her tears, she turned and kissed me suddenly. Not as a mother to a son, but as a lover who was going away. And perhaps that is what I was to her. Her lover. Her friend. The missing part to her soul. We stood there holding each other for a long time, kissing and tasting and breathing one another's sweet breath. And even to this day over two hundred years later, I can remember that first kiss as clearly as my first kill.


Paris.

The musicians, the theaters; the vendors and beggars. The ladies all strolling with that ridiculous air; and the gentleman too, with their outrageous hair. That is where it all changed.

The feelings I had when I stood in that room and watched her dying. Knowing that Roget and Nicki were waiting to carry her away. Well, read the book I say; it's all there. But what is not is what happened after I offered her the choice.

I suppose I should pause here and mention something else that has been conveniently omitted.

Vampires can get erections.

This was mentioned in great detail to my aforementioned biographer, and for the most part it was played down as an excitement, a rush, a lust for the kill and a joining of the killer with their mortal victim. But that does not truly describe the feeling entirely. It is, as I said — for Vampires that have such an appendage — an erection.

I suppose the Damned are male and female after all. We look that way and sound that way, so I will call myself male and Gabrielle female. She certainly looked every bit the female to me even after we both passed into immortality.

I find that mortals often try to be more deceptive than immortals. Never saying what they mean and hiding the truth. Well the truth of it was my mother excited me. It excited me as I saw her standing by the window, white faced just like I am now, with luxurious blond hair, and lips plump and kissable. Her breasts were magnificent at that moment, more so than I could remember even in childhood — buoying out above that blue corset, almost beckoning to be revealed, to be caressed, even touched and nibbled upon.

But I must mention something else as well. The excitement at that stage is purely mental. Maybe even emotional, but certainly not physical. It is not possible to get an erection or for a female immortal to feel that intense level of excitement until the blood flows through their veins. But when that happens — watch out, I say!

I had experienced this level of excitement with each and every one of my kills and while it did not necessarily frustrate me as it would have when I was a mortal, I did find it quite amusing. It mattered not if I had fed from a male or female mortal. It was the act itself of piercing the flesh and joining so intimately. That, or perhaps it was just the sudden rush of blood the filled every one of my veins — that one in particular as well.

As I said, I knew the feeling it caused in me, but it was not until I watched Gabrielle accost her first victim in that alley that I knew she too felt the same. She changed at that moment. I saw the blood already working within her; her face softening, losing its striking white shade, turning ruddy even. But more than that, I could smell her. Her sweet, musky female scent.

Gabrielle turned to me and smiled. It was the same smile she had given me when confessing her desire to be taken by many men. And having not fed and being much weakened from her having drank from me, I was taken off guard when she pressed me against the wall of that alley and kissed me. She was still remembering the life of a mortal and so her hand instantly reached for the crotch of my breaches, searching for my hardness there. She pulled back in surprise.

"Do I not excite you in death as I did in life... My darling, Lestat?"

I smiled weakly. Apologetically. "I must feed first, Mother. Gabrielle."

She simply nodded in understanding and we sought out my victim. We found him not far away.

Gabrielle had delighted in my teasing that poor soul. Had simply loved it, as was described. But what was omitted was how she immediately approached me to see if I was indeed able to get an erection after the kill.

Gabrielle smiled again as she saw the fire in my eyes and felt the hardness between my legs. We stood there as two statues just peering into each other's ethereal eyes. We both instantly felt the need to cross that line in which we had not had the strength when still alive. But just as I felt her growl in lust and then the feel of her lips pressing against mine; just as I was prepared to throw my mother down right there and love her unto ecstasy; she was stricken with the symptoms of her death.

We hid in that nearby cellar and I held her; and all thoughts of loving her in that very mortal manner were put aside.

When she was done with that, when she was over that last part of her mortal constraints, we stole the clothes that she would wear since her own had been soiled beyond redemption. She teased me then as she dressed in that lady's gown. And my mother showed me her breasts without shame; their rosy pink nipples and the white skin and bluish veins that I had never even dreamed to imagine upon her form.

She was forced to kiss me. Kiss me and shake me from my dream after having watched every one of her delicate movements while she dressed. She smiled like the devil she had become and pulled me toward the window, where we escaped from that place and went back for the horse.

And this time, when she killed a young man on the way and stole his clothes; preferring to replace her gown with his attire; my breath caught as I stared. Her legs were scrumptious in those white stockings, looking like a boy of the times, but so much shapelier, so much more — enticing. I wanted her and when she turned to look at me after slipping on his shoes and doing a little dance, she smiled that smile again.

She laughed at the moon and we raced for the mare, faster than any mortal could dream to see. And then having fled back to my tower that I'd inherited from Magnus — our tower now — we made our way to the cellar with the three sarcophagi. She cut off her hair then, and this shocked me at first, having never seen a woman with locks that short. I knew why she had done it but still it made me want her back the way she was before. I wanted her to look like my mother again.

I hesitated to leave her when she stepped beside her chosen place to rest. And this is where things were altered in that first account yet again.

Gabrielle was far from tired as was portrayed. And she was feeling spirited I could tell. She stripped naked right before my eyes and then tossed her garments inside, layering the bottom of the stone slab with them and an old dusty blanket that had fallen between the three coffins. Then she climbed inside the sarcophagus and propped herself on her elbows to look at me from within that deep stone chest. There was room enough for three men in there or one very large man with a full set of plate armor, so certainly enough for a young immortal and his vampire mother.

Gabrielle watched me with lust in her eyes, her excitement more than mine since she had fed from the boy in the alley less than an hour before. His blood was still working in her veins and I could see the trace of moisture between her legs, amidst the soft curls of her mound as she parted them for my gaze. My senses were heightened and the scent I caught made me nearly insane. None of these things were something a mortal would have seen or smelled while standing there, I am quite sure. Just one more reason I was pleased to have crossed to that undead realm instead.

I looked at her again and she was looking at my body now; licking her lower lip and pressing her tongue between her newly acquired teeth.

Before her, I had only been to the harlots who worked near the taverns. Those women did not look at a man the way my mother looked at me. It was just a chore to them. But this was the look of desire. The look that a mortal man gave when leering at a woman walking alone along the boulevards. It was even the look of an immortal, a starving immortal, as they gazed upon their first blood of the night.

The sun would be up within the hour, but the sleep was not yet upon us. And so, I quickly removed my clothes, not feeling the shame or embarrassment of a mortal. For I was no longer mortal. I was after all, the Vampire Lestat now and all mortal shame was put behind me.

I climbed inside with Gabrielle and we both pulled the heavy stone lid over top us, permitting the moonlight from the barred windows to shine upon us just enough.

I could see her luminescent eyes staring back at me as we lay side by side. And when I felt the smoothness of her arm and leg drape over my ribs and hip, I groaned. So long it had been since I had felt the touch of a woman this close — mortal or not. Utter perfection she was!

"Lestat," she whispered, pressing her lips to mine. "Now in death, we can experience what we lacked the courage to... in life."

"Gabrielle," I started. But she cut me short.

"No. Out there, I am Gabrielle. But in here, in our haven... I will always be your mother as well. And you will be always my son. We are immortal lovers now, you and I."

I nearly went mad hearing her state it like that. Mad with desire for her even as she gathered me closer with her leg and arm and pressed her lips firmly against mine. She seemed to encompass me with her soft limbs, tormenting and comforting me all the same. It felt so good; I almost felt the need to cry.

We kissed then like starved lovers. And I believe we were. I was still at that very moment finding it hard to believe that I not only had an immortal companion, but the very one I would have chosen before all others.

My mother for her part seemed ravenous. Her lips were everywhere on mine; chewing and sucking. I felt her sharp teeth bite into my tongue just barely and then the salty-sweet taste of blood. I cried out in surprise of the pain and this just made her kiss me harder. She captured my tongue between her lips and tasted the blood of her son, her immortal lover.

Her hand was between my legs, groping, squeezing. Gabrielle started to whimper in frustration as she felt me larger than normal, but not as hard as we would need.

We parted to catch our breath, her licking her lips from my blood and shuddering for a moment before opening her eyes and staring back at me.

"You need blood," she said softly.

I had not thought of that. I had been caught in the moment and assumed that being in her presence like that had somehow prevented me from doing the final deed. That perhaps there was some unwritten rule that even the damned could not commit such a shocking act.

"Gabrielle... there isn't time. The sun..."

"Ssshh," she said, kissing me once more; but she pulled back for a moment and pressed her teeth into her bottom lip. Her eyes winced momentarily and then she looked at me with that smile. Then she was upon me again.

I tasted her blood. Some of the all powerful blood that I had given her earlier, as well as that of her mortal kills. My eyelids fluttered from the taste of her. If the act of a mother and son coupling was forbidden to mortals, then the act of drinking freely the blood of another vampire would be that same forbidden pleasure for immortals. It was taboo. I felt it as the first drop touched my tongue.

The pleasure was too intense. Just as intense as feeding from a human; but something even more wickedly delightful as well. It was a level of trust that few immortals would dare to show another, for fear that very same blood could be sucked away in death, as easily as it had been in life.

But the blood we had shared, my tongue and her lip — this was not enough. We pulled apart and peered into each other's eyes again and we knew what had to be done.

Gabrielle's teeth ripped at the flesh of my neck before I had a chance to even consider any other away. The moan she let out as the blood poured freely into her mouth sent a shiver to my very being. The pain for me was nothing compared to the pleasure I felt as she drew my life away. My head felt as if I were flying through the clouds. My pulse throbbed at my neck and I felt the drawing of my blood make me sigh in ecstasy.

She was whimpering and trying to talk at the same time. I could not read her mind anymore since she had become immortal, but I sensed the urgency in the way she groaned halfway beneath me.

"Lestat!" she hissed. "Feed... or you will die!"

But even as she placed her mouth to my neck again and drew my blood effortlessly, she also reached for my head and pushed my own lips to her neck in turn. It was awkward in that position, confined in that ancient stone coffin, but I brought her small frame closer and reached with my mouth — piercing her neck, the taut creamy flesh.

The blood shot into my mouth which such force that it felt alive. And the taste. The taste of my own Mother's blood flowing freely made me nearly lose control. The two of us spent the next few minutes sucking that sweet red life out of each other in a continuous cycle, grinding our bodies together and growling like the demons we had become.

And that was when she rolled me on top of her. She did it easily, as her strength was nearly that of mine. But we did not release our frightening kiss at each other's throats. I lifted my hips and groaned as Gabrielle slipped my hardness inside her, wrapping her legs around my waist and bringing me down frantically upon her.

Her hands went to my rear and pulled me in as deep as she dared. Both of us reared our heads away from that kiss and gasped. A shrill sound that pierced the night and nearly deafened us inside that ancient stone tower. We were joined as no mortal mother and son should ever be joined, and we recognized that instantly as our eyes met.

I could feel the blood at my neck already slowing, the wounds trying to heal. I looked down at my mother, my lover and saw her sharp teeth still red and moist. She closed her eyes but I saw a terrible, beautiful smile slowly forming on her lips around those teeth.

I knew the feeling. She felt so good wrapped around me in every way, squeezing me inside her depths and pulling me into her with her hands. Her body, in becoming immortal, had regained the physical state of her youth. A young woman, vibrant and healthy, firm and tight. We were both perfection, her and I.

I needed more. I needed to drink from my mother again as she wiggled her hips beneath me wickedly and forced me to drive myself even deeper. My body jerked from that sensation alone. I could just barely see the darkened streaks that trailed from the puncture marks at her neck. I waited until she opened her eyes and I groaned out, "Mother!" before I reopened the wounds at her throat and drank from her once more.

"Ah, my son! Lover!" she hissed. "I need... more... of my son!"

She spread her thighs and lifted her hips in an unearthly way, almost hovering and taking more of my hard shaft inside her. I assumed that was what she mean by "more" as I sank deeper than I thought possible between her legs. But then I felt her teeth biting into the tense muscle near my shoulder and I gasped. The pain was sharp and fierce, but again, the blood flowed enough to fill her mouth I am sure.

I pulled her face away moments later and saw the starving, desperate look in her eyes. But there was lust hidden away in there as well. And so I kissed her and offered her my tongue once more, feeling the teeth scrape lightly across the tip, teasing me, not permitting me to know when that moment would come that she would just sink them down and cause me to cry out.

She did it fast, and I could feel her laughing as she drank from the hot liquid dripping from my mouth into hers. And so I pressed my teeth against her lip and did the same. Our blood mingled, just as our bodies entwined. My mother moaned as I gathered up her gift with my lower lip, allowing her to drink from me all the while.

Our grinding together had never stopped during all this, mind you. And I for one was becoming curious to see this experiment through to completion. The damned loving the damned? Would the moisture of our love be tainted red, the same as our tears and our sweat? I imagined so. And was it possible for the waking dead to carry a vampire child within her womb? The thought made me groan out with lust to discover these things.

I lowered my face to her pale white breast and without hesitation I sank my teeth into the tip, one sharp long tooth on either side of her swollen pinkish nipple. I had the sweet sensation at that moment, of being a babe and suckling from that same breast — once again drawing sustenance from my mother through that full and sensitive flesh.

She had grabbed my arm by this time, and I was oblivious to this as I chewed and sucked and drank at her breast, until I felt the teeth tear at the flesh of my wrist and draw my life back into her. My lids felt heavy as I felt the beating of our undead hearts meeting and then marching as one.

We moved that way for some time, feeding off one another and moving our bodies in that age old way of mortals before us. The almost orgasmic pleasure of my blood being forced through the small piercings at my wrist while tasting the very same blood flowing into my mouth from my mother's breast made me lose the last bit of control I had retained. My shaft swelled inside her and she let go my wrist to let out a shriek as she arched beneath me and came.

I could still taste her blood as I stopped drinking and held myself atop her as best I could, sliding myself deep time and again. I exploded, sending my love spiraling out in dizzying waves as she moaned and writhed beneath me. Her nails drew blood at my back and her legs spread lewdly one moment and gripped my thrusting hips the next.

We slid to a crawl and our kissing returned to a relative state of normalcy. My tongue healed, our lips renewed. We kissed and breathed each other's sweet breath once more.

The sun.

We had forgotten the sun in all our passion and the heat of it, as it was moments away from rising over the horizon, forced us to hiss in unison and close the coffin tight and continue in the dark. But by this time, we were spent.

My mother held me close; her arms and legs still wrapped sensuously around my body as I felt myself shudder from being so close to her.

"Good night, my dark angel. My Gabrielle."

And then, just like that, the sleep was upon us.


You have certainly read what happened the next morning; when Gabrielle realized her hair had grown back. I tried to console her, but she would have none of it. It was as if the passion we had shared the previous night had been forgotten completely. I suppose that may be harsh, because there were moments when our eyes would meet and her face would soften, become almost human again, and I knew what she was thinking. But it was not enough to pull her out of her misery completely.

Our hunger led us back toward Paris quickly that evening. And this is where the next omission occurred.

The "presence" that you all know to be Armand's sickly little coven, was not actually bold enough to approach us for weeks to come. Gabrielle and I were so caught up in ourselves and her experiencing the new life after death, that we had little time for that whispering force of doom.

Each morning when we returned to the tower, we would slip into her chosen coffin and sleep like the dead we were. We did not make love again for three nights; and it had been nearly unbearable to feed and feel that rush that excited me beyond reason only to look at Gabrielle and see her quickly turn away. But on the fourth night, from the moment we rose, I saw that my Gabrielle had returned.

"I want to see the trees, the forest," she said as we rode swiftly back to the city in search of mortal food. She had mentioned this a few times, but I felt her peering to the east and looking into the dense woods that encroached upon the nearby farms and I felt it was something we would need to do.

I did not particularly like the woods; not in life or death. I don't know why. The wolves perhaps? Or maybe the witch's place, having been surrounded by those dark, black trees? More likely it was because it was so damned uncivilized to run through the dark forest at night when you could be hobnobbing with the likes of the Queen of France!

But I would do this thing for Gabrielle. For my mother. My lover.

And so by chance we found two men on the outskirts of the city, still a mile or so away. They were foolish to have been out there in that pitch black. Especially with ghouls such us as the two of us milling about.

We heard them inside a small dilapidated barn; one small lantern lighting the spot deep inside. Gabrielle and I looked at each other and smiled evilly. How convenient this had become.

They were young, and they were in the heat of passion and so they were easily surprised and overcome. The one was completely unaware when Gabrielle took him from behind. She had become quite sneaky. A natural at the deathly embrace.

I waited for the boys to become untangled as Gabrielle fed. Waited for the other to turn and see my smiling white form standing above him. He was too shocked to cry out. But more than that, he appeared almost enraged at being discovered and caught before that lewd act of theirs had been complete.

And that was a good thing. I liked rage. I liked the pathetic struggles that ensued, the theatrics of it all.

He tried to push me to the ground with an animalistic growl. And when I didn't budge, he took to lashing out at my body as best he could. He was turning red in the face he was so livid. And I was beside myself in hysterics as he tumbled to the ground again.

"Lestat... finish this please!" Gabrielle said, still cradling the other boy's head in her arms; her lips red and moist...

"Fine, Mother." I rolled my eyes in exasperation. I picked the boy up and looked him straight in the eye. And only then did his rage turn to fear. "My mother says to finish this thing. Now let's finish, before we make her angry."

And with that, I finished him.

When it was all done, my mother and I climbed back onto our mare. I felt her arms circling my waist, her hands gravitating toward my crotch to feel me there. I turned my head and smiled. And Gabrielle kissed me. I tasted the other boy's salt still on her lips.

We followed the road for some time; a winding path it became until eventually there was nothing but the vast expanse of trees directly in front of us.

This little voyage to the woods would be just that. Trees, I thought. A trip without any purpose other than pleasing my mother for a short time. But of anyone I could think of, she deserved more than all others this simple thing. She deserved some measure of happiness after so long. And I liked knowing that I was the one able to give that to her in my gift of immortality.

We tethered the mare at the edge of the forest and then allowed ourselves to just be swallowed up in that vast expanse. The moon was full, but even it had trouble reaching us through the gigantic ancient limbs, still thick with their leaves.

She let go of my hand and started to walk ahead. I wanted her to have her peace if that was what this was all about. But as she moved further ahead I tried to catch up, afraid of losing her I think. She increased her pace with mine, moving faster as I moved faster. And this without even turning around.

"Gabrielle!" I called, using a pitch that only she could hear, but no mortals would be aware of.

I heard her devilish laugh from far ahead.

I saw her then in front of me; a ghostly female apparition of exquisite form and beauty. She waited for me to get a stone's throw away before she fled again, laughing once more. I kept pace this time, increased it even. And I caught up with her so that we were suddenly racing through the forest in unison, swifter than any mortal eyes could see.

We leapt onto low boughs, flew through open spaces, swung from branches. And all the while we were laughing and racing like two devils from a children's tale.

We came upon a clearing. And a small pond with darkened water that reflected the light of the moon so that it appeared to be rising from that glassy pool rather than hovering above. I watched perched from a low, thick tree limb as my mother stripped off her clothes and waded into the water, glancing back at me with that smile again. She dove under; her hips and shapely rear burning their image into my mind forever. And she stayed under for so long that I found myself frowning and wondering if I should not investigate further.

I leapt down silently and approached the water, seeing her clothes lying on the damp grass. Even that sight alone made me burn for her. She came up slowly. So slowly that I was not aware until her blond hair shone in the light of the moon, and I saw that she was watching me from far inside the pond. A look of heated desire flashed across her delicate features.

Gabrielle crooked a finger and beckoned me to come to her. And then she watched with amusement as I stripped my own clothes away and waded in to join her.

Her hair was wet and long, hanging so low it touched the water lapping at her plump breasts. She had elected not to cut it short this night, preferring the look of a female rather than a male. She knew what feelings this caused in me, looking upon her hair as it had been in my youth.

As I approached, my mother tilted her head back and wet her blond curls again, but in the process showed me that smooth and all too inviting flesh of her exposed neck. I watched the bluish vein pulsing on the side, still alive and full of the young man's blood. It beat in time with her heart, calling to me with every pulse.

I went to her and gathered her small body in my arms. Gabrielle smiled with parted lips but did not lift her head; rather, she left her throat exposed by tilting even more to the side. She was offering herself to me. Offering her body and her blood to her son. To her immortal lover.

I teased that vein along her throat; trailing my tongue along it softly and then nipping with the points of my teeth. I felt her nails piercing my arms as she held me tight, and listened to her gasp every time my teeth touched her flesh again. I did this until I felt that pulsing throbbing bit of flesh almost rolling against my tongue. Could feel the blood flowing just beneath the skin. She was beside herself with anticipation. Waiting for her son and lover to drive into her pale flesh, in more places than one.

I sucked hard on her neck, the way mortals do in the moments leading up to their passion. The flesh became wet and blemished and I did it so gently yet so firmly, that there was almost no need for me to thrust my teeth downward. Her flesh came to me and opened up almost willingly.

Gabrielle cried out when I finally sank into her. Instantly the taste of hot salty fire pouring from her veins made me feel pleasure unknown to any mortal man. It burned through me, still rather full from the boy before; yet my mother's blood was my very own blood, and it forged its way through my body. And every inch of me that filled with this sensation made me feel as if I were about to climax, to lose control of myself completely.

We both felt the rigidness of my flesh between us and so Gabrielle lifted and wrapped her legs around my waist as I entered her tight flesh there as well. She opened her body for me just as she opened her veins; allowing me to penetrate her completely.

As I filled her with my shaft and drew her life-blood out from her lithe form, she became aware of her own hunger again. Gabrielle grabbed my hair and pulled me away from her throat, gasping as my teeth came free. She slithered her tongue inside my mouth, tasting the saltiness of herself upon my lips. And then she tilted my head to the side and thrust her teeth deeply into the side of my neck.

I groaned out, feeling the life being sucked out from me once again. My shaft throbbed inside her, just as her teeth seemed to throb inside me. And I held her in my hands, gripping her perfectly shaped rear with long fingers that pulled and stretched that firm flesh there.

Gabrielle was becoming drunk on my blood; moaning and forcing her hips against mine in that cold, dark pond. She lifted her head suddenly and with wide glowing eyes peered right into mine. It was as if she were surprised that the Little Death was upon her.

"Oh, Lestat!" she gasped, tossing her head back and jerking her pelvis hard against mine.

She fluttered around me, gripping me like no mortal woman ever could. Squeezing me tight inside her and bending her back so that her head touched the water again; crying out a shrill cry that caused the birds in the nearby trees to take flight.

I was not ready though. I was much too enthralled with the look on her face and the way her body was moving in front of mine to allow myself to finish yet. And so I simply held my lover and let her enjoy the feel of letting go; of being finally free in the arms of her son.

I was feeling weak from her feeding on me so ravenously. And so I carried her back onto the soft grass near our clothes and then laid her down gently. We kissed then; feeling tongues and teeth and tasting the salty-sweet blood of our immortal flesh. I was becoming starved and perhaps so was she.

Almost desperate now, I lowered my mouth to her breast and teased her nipple until it stood straight and tight. And then I bit down firmly and allowed the thin stream of blood to flow as she ran her fingers through my hair.

It was then that we heard them. Three mortals not far away. They were crashing through the woods, lanterns in hand. The lights flickered between the trees in the distance and both Gabrielle and I stopped to look at their clumsy procession. They were drunk, no doubt about it. But even the two of us could not immediately determine their purpose way out there.

The light suddenly vanished, but the voices, the laughter continued, just muffled now more than before. A shed of some sort or a cabin. Two men. And a woman.

Apparently it was a night for meetings with clandestine lovers.

My mother slid from under me and climbed to her feet, looking down at with me a smile. "I want to see this," she said, cocking one brow impishly.

I looked up at her standing over me, my eyes taking in her perfect, white form. Her veins were more prominent now, having lost so much blood from me. I held up my hand and saw that I too looked famished. But as immortals go, we were still a gorgeous pair.

A drop of blood hovered at the edge of her nipple. She saw me looking and followed my gaze. She took one long white finger and circled the tip of her breast, smiling at me, teasing me.

We didn't even dress. We simply raced to the small cottage stealthily along a beaten path I had not realized was there. We were so silent that we scarcely even frightened the creatures of the forest as we settled down outside the one window.

There was no glass pane and just an old rag covering the opening. And so I moved the thing aside and both Gabrielle and I stood close in the dark to watch these mortals who were so unaware of how close the danger was to them.

The woman was nothing special, but she was certainly young. And as mortals go, youth always seems to have that draw for the male of the species. The men were older, seasoned, rough looking even. I loathed to watch as they stripped the girl down and each groped her body freely. She looked like such a delicate thing to be handled in such a way.

But the girl was enjoying their ministrations; drinking from a wine flask and laughing. Pouring the red liquid down her breasts and instructing them to lap it from her skin. She ground her hips lewdly at their touch. Pushed a plump breast into each of their mouths.

Gabrielle's hand went to my crotch and she gripped me hard. I inhaled sharply — a sound like the wind. None of the mortals even heard.

We watched for some time as the men wasted little time and took their turns with her; grunting and sweating and moaning. It was a very rough affair, with slapping and pulling of her hair. And the girl was clearly delighting in every second of it.

"She came again!" Gabrielle would whisper, each time the girl tensed and held her sweet breath. It was as if my mother were surprised that the young thing was not only permitting herself to be used for their pleasure, but deriving just as much out of it as her burly male counterparts.

This was of course, what Gabrielle had wanted when she had made that confession so long ago. Simply to be able to let go. To be free of all moral constraints and social niceties. To be able to enjoy the passion of sex as much as the man grunting and moaning on top of her and not be chastised for it later.

I for one could focus on little else than the scent of mortals that close to my now hungering flesh. Protruding veins on the men's bulging arms and legs and shafts. The pink flush of blood rushing to the surface of the girl's chest and neck each time she climaxed again. It was driving me mad!

I grabbed my mother and was tempted, so tempted to feast on her as she reached back and placed her delicate fingers at my lips. She was teasing me, knowing that I would not dare jeopardize her in our hungering state.

The three mortals were joined as one now. A depraved scene that even I had never imagined until I saw it before my eyes. Gabrielle moaned and pushed her rear against my hip at the sight of three bodies moving as one. Two males and one female, moaning and gasping as they ground together in that one essential spot.

We made our move as they started to reach their peak. Their breathing becoming more frantic, their movements more spastic.

I took the man from behind so swiftly that he didn't know what hit him — sucking the salty life away and bringing him to the point were he slipped in and out of his lucid thoughts, still snug inside the woman beneath him.

I watched as Gabrielle struck at the other man's wrist; sinking teeth in so gently that he never opened his eyes, somehow confusing the pleasure in his arm with something the girl a top him was doing.

The girl meanwhile was beside herself with ecstasy. Eyes closed, moaning in her drunken state. She whined audibly when the man I was finished with slipped away from her before she was done with him. And it was my face, not quite the color of a mortal's and with strange haunting eyes that she saw when she turned around with heavy lids.

I am beautiful as mortal men go. And so her breath caught, perhaps picturing some fantastical apparition from her dreams rather than the strange thing that was about to kiss her from behind.

But she sensed something was wrong when the man beneath her stopped moaning and slipped away from consciousness. And so she reluctantly turned away from me and saw Gabrielle peering at her with a devilish smile only at arm's length away.

We took the girl at the same time, my mother and I. And she moaned at the double piercings of her flesh. Gabrielle at her plump breast and me at her neck. The girl had reached her peak again, grinding on the passed out man beneath her and moaning as she held both mine and Gabrielle's heads closer to her. I had never had a mortal welcome the kiss like that. And that made me want to devour her even more.

The girl clearly felt herself slipping away, as her hands started to fall from the dual blond heads sucking at her creamy skin. And there was something different, a taste that was beyond anything I had drunk before, coursing suddenly through her veins. Gabrielle tasted it too, and both of us moaned in unison. In actuality, it seemed we had only just begun to enjoy this new sensation when I saw my mother pull away and gently keep me from feeding on her any more.

"This one, she reminds me of me. Before your father. I want her to live," she said.

And so we parted, feeling full and satiated, our veins overflowing with the life of our three mortal friends.

"She came again," Gabrielle said, moving to a standing position and watching the sleeping girl with a smile. The poor thing was still moaning softly, a hand between her legs and another grasping slowly at the tender breast where my mother had fed.

Gabrielle looked at me and grinned. "This one came again. But you, Lestat, have not."

She laughed and quickly fled from the cabin, racing for the water again. I took one fleeting look at the girl, resisting the urge to take the rest of that salty-sweet life from her, and raced after my mother. I caught her just steps from the water.

She laughed and pretended to resist me, reaching back and slapping at my hardness as it prodded her from behind; my hands tight on her hips. I was in need of her and so, without further ado I forced her down onto hands and knees in front of me as I knelt behind her seductive form.

My knees and toes dug into the moist night soil, just as my shaft dug deeply into her hot, wet channel from behind. Both of us lifted our heads and let out an otherworldly cry; two blond haired beauties howling at the moon.

It was fast and rough, almost like the mortals we had seen just moments before. Gabrielle tilted her rear, arching her back in an inhuman pose and allowed me deeper access as I thrust into her hard, time and again. Having just fed to the point of nearly bursting, my shaft was engorged beyond anything I had ever felt. And she was tighter and moister than any of our times before.

She flung her head back, her hair splaying out over her back as she cried out again. And so I grabbed it in my hand, forming a fist and riding her the way that girl had been ridden just minutes before. I thrust into her like that, hard and fast until I felt her come. I waited for her to turn her head and hiss at me for my release. And only then did I let myself go.

I held my breath as my hardness swelled and then burst inside her, triggering the same intense reaction in Gabrielle once more. She gasped and cried out my name as her sweet juice coated me completely, and all the while squeezing me until there was nothing left to give.

That night was the first of many in those woods. Until the incident with the coven at Les Innocents. We would venture back to that place every few nights when we tired of the crowds in the opera houses or the balls with aristocrats such as our former mortal selves.

We visited the cabin each time for any sign of a mortal's return. And there was nothing for nearly three weeks. But then one night, as Gabrielle and I swam in the pond after having shared our love, we heard them come back.

Not them. Her. The girl had ventured back alone this time. And she stood with a flickering lantern held in front of her; a hooded cloak wrapped covering her form. She looked like little Red Riding Hood come to find the Big Bad Wolf.

Well, I could be that wolf. And so could Gabrielle.

"Are you there?" she whispered. "I have come to you." The sound carried on the wind, all the way to where we were listening carefully but silently in the water.

The girl said nothing more, but she stood in that door for a long time as if waiting for something or someone to come out to her.

Gabrielle and I looked at each other and mirrored the other's smile. The girl had sought us out, had she not? Who were we to deny a mortal what they sought in such innocence?

Ah, but I am afraid, that my dear mortal friends... is a story for another time.

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