A vampire on Halloween meets his match.

WARNING! This is not for children. All characters are over the age of 18. No animals were harmed in the production of this story.

Author’s note: Every character in or referenced in this story is 16 years old or older. Sometimes in real life people lie about their age. In the same manner, these story characters may lie about their age, stating that they are younger than 16. But I am stating here and now, as the author of this story, that every single character is at least 16 years old. Any reference to an age younger than 16 is a lie, stated by the character or narrator of the story in an attempt to shock the reader. But do not believe them. It is not true. They are really 16 years old or older. Believe me. I know. I wrote the story.

Finally I found the address. There were so many cars I was forced to park two blocks away. Walking up to this upper middle-class home I could hear the music, clearly meant for dancing and not to scare anyone away, like so many other homes this Halloween night. I hesitated at the door, wondering if anyone would hear me knock, then decided to just walk in.

The entryway was empty but I could see into the family room. Several couples were dancing. My view of the living room told me that I would blend in well. Everyone was dressed up for Halloween. My own vampire outfit was in line with many others like the Grim Reaper, Frankenstein, and the Werewolf. The irony was that I didn’t need fake fangs. Few knew that with me they were getting the real thing. Not even after I was done with them did they know. Two centuries of practice had developed my skills to the point that I could pierce the neck with hardly a trace. Through the needlepoint entries I could suck out a mouthful of blood, enough to sustain me for a day, but not enough for my victim to have any ill effects at all.

They never remember my bite because I make them forget. No, I am not a psychic and I don’t hypnotize them. I am just very persuasive in convincing them that what just happened didn’t really happen. It’s a power that comes with being an Incubus. That comes in very handy when I take liberties beyond just the blood. Though my seed may be dead, my production of fluids is not, nor is my pleasure in sharing. My curse is not only the need for blood but an insatiable need for consummation with my victim. It strengthens me with every joining. It can actually help sustain me when I haven’t recently fed. Though there is rarely the time when I don’t do both, fuck and feed. But I am always careful about my feeding, not to take too much and to avoid bad blood, like that from a drug addict. It doesn’t sustain me like the pure blood of an innocent.

When it comes to sex I don’t have to worry about disease. I can’t get sick and for that matter no one can get sick from me, or pregnant. Since I can wipe their memory my only risk is leaving too much evidence, leaving them too sore or too full of my dead seed that they question what might have happened. If they remember anything at all, and some do as I’m not perfect at this memory wiping, hopefully they think it is their own vivid imagination.

Aside from the common need for blood, vampires take on various talents and needs. Some have no desire for sex at all. Others have developed their need for sex into a talent where they can control the body of their victim. Thinking about it I guess that’s not much different than what humans do to each other.

Looking over the crowd I spied a beautiful vampiress standing in the corner. She was focused on one particular couple dancing and didn’t notice me staring. Her eyes were unusually dark, lips black like her midnight long straight hair. I wondered if it was a wig. She stood about 5 and a half feet tall, thin yet well shaped, my guess would be 32 x 22 x 30. Whoever this woman was, her costume was convincing. I knew I wanted her and not just for her blood.

Walking directly over to her I broke her focus on the couple. “You can do better than either of them.”

She looked at me for a long moment, then replied, “And you think you’re that one?”

“Who else could you share horror stories with and expect them to understand?” I told her.

“Oh I would expect to share more than just stories,” she teased.

“Then I have found just the right person for tonight,” I told her as I reached down and took her hand. “Follow me if you are not too afraid,” I said, knowing full well she would do exactly what I said.

I led her down a hallway to the farthest room I could find. After leading her into the room I shut the door, leaving the lights out. I didn’t really need them at night as I could see as well at night as a human could during the day. We had entered a little girl’s room. She must be off with family or at a friend’s house as the room was empty with the exception of the two of us. This girl was at that transition age, going from daddy’s little girl to a young teenager, caught in both worlds, struggling to grow up and not wanting to leave the children’s world she so enjoyed.

“Face the dresser,” I told her. “Lean forward onto your arms and spread your feet apart.” I was preparing to take my pleasure first and feed last.

She followed all my commands. They always did. These women wanted to obey, wanted me to touch them, to defile them, to give them an experience unlike any they had ever had.

Stepping up behind her I reached down and grabbed her skirt. Throwing it up over her waist I exposed her bright red panties covering the most perfectly shaped ass I had ever seen. Her skin was a creamy white, her legs long and narrow, her waist just the right size. She was to die for. I had to have her right then.

This was where I made my first mistake. I’m usually so careful but in my sudden excitement at such perfection before me, I didn’t stop to think how this human could be so perfect. I ripped her panties off one leg, letting them slide down her other leg to the floor. By the time they touched the carpet I had my own pants down. I was hard and ready, all eight inches of me. Stepping up closer I positioned myself at her opening. Surprised but pleased to find her already wet I grasped her by the hips and drove myself in.

Her wetness defied her readiness. She was so tight I only made it partway in. Pulling back to where just the head of my shaft was still inside her pussy I drove in again, harder than before. This time I managed to get most of my shaft into her. She had the tightest pussy I had ever fucked. I could feel her squeezing me and wondered how long I could last with her. Normally that is never a problem but this woman was somehow different than all the rest. I began to wonder who was really in control of this situation.

Pulling back once again I grasped her hips tight and drove in with all my strength. This time I made it all the way in. What surprised me is that she growled at me with a low guttural sound. But I was in heaven, as I began fucking her. With each stroke I rammed her harder and faster. And though on one hand it seemed easier as she got wetter, she also seemed to squeeze my cock ever tighter.

Several minutes of this was about all I could take. My vampiress turned out to be a wild woman thrusting back as hard as I was with each stroke of my own. I felt my body approach that wonderful point of no return. The tension throughout my body was building fast. Suddenly I was there, that familiar moment of ecstasy when you know you could hold back no longer and you just let the rush flow over your whole body. One last thrust and I held myself deep inside of her as surge after surge of my fluids filled her up. Her grip on my cock was exquisite. She milked me dry with her cunt muscles. Then she climaxed.

I thought she would squeeze my cock off, her pussy grip was so tight. I tried to pull back but couldn’t. She looked up to the ceiling, looking like she was about to howl like a wolf. Then she turned her head back to look at me. Her eyes were no longer the darkness of before but were fire red and her teeth…my God. She was a vampiress, for real.

At that moment of shock she released me. Her pussy walls relaxed and I fell backwards towards the floor. Before I even hit she turned around and lunged for me. When I landed on my back she was already on top of me, grabbing my wrists and forcing my hands to the carpet. She was on her knees, straddling my hips. With perfect precision she lowered herself onto me and somehow had my semi-rigid shaft wrapped by the hot walls of her pussy. It looked strange, her dress completely hiding what was happening beneath. But her body was anything but still as she rode my shaft up and down, forward and back, like a mad woman. Within a minute I was as hard as when I first took her. A couple of minutes later I was feeding her my fluids once again. How, I don’t know. But she didn’t stop. It’s as if my climax was energy for her. I couldn’t believe it but two minutes later I was cumming again. Once more a minute after that. In some mystical way she controlled my body, forced my system to keep producing the fluids she so craved.

It was frightful and wonderful all at once. The feeling was fantastic. My climaxes were approaching the point where there was virtually no time between them. Just imagine those few seconds of ultimate bliss you feel with a normal climax, then continue that with no end in sight. Yet I wondered at what price to me when it was all done. I was actually feeling a little weaker, a little faint, like I do when I haven’t fed in a while. This was unusual for me, as I normally grew stronger with sex.

On and on she fucked me. I was now in one continual climax, steadily feeding her my fluids. The thing is, it felt so fantastic I didn’t want it to ever stop, no matter how I felt otherwise. Her body must have been absorbing my fluids as fast as I was giving them to her, which is probably why I wasn’t able to draw strength from our mating. My strength comes from my partner’s climax, not from mine.

Suddenly she arched backwards and this time let out a low guttural roar. Her pussy walls gripped my shaft so tight I couldn’t have pulled out even if I wanted to, and I certainly didn’t. She was finally climaxing. The next moment she was at my neck. I felt the piercing of her fangs, the sucking of her mouth, the flow of my own blood into her mouth. She was taking too much. I had to stop her. But all I did was pass out.

I woke up on the floor, groggy but surprisingly not feeling as weak as I had been. It must have been her final climax that countered the weakness. My pants were at my ankles. I was alone. Getting dressed as best I could, I found a mirror and examined my wound. She was not as careful as I would have been. The sex though was incredible, and her final orgasm actually supplied me with enough energy for me to not have to worry about finding another victim tonight. I guess this night I was the victim, my first time with a real Succubus.

The End