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I highly recommend that you read the 1st installment in the series before venturing into this one.
This story contains graphic lesbian sex and vampirism. It was originally published in 2015 at another site.
Much of the sex is anal — I’ve marked the beginning and end of these paragraphs with *** if you want to skip them but still continue reading the story.
English is not my first language, so there might be some grammatical errors.
*
“Lily…? What?” I asked groggily. I had been accepted into my undergrad-courses, and after a full day of studying I had fallen down exhausted on my sofa the minute I had come home. It was late and my apartment was pitch-black. I rubbed my face, and blinked several times in a row to mentally wake up.
Lily was sitting at the end of the sofa; my legs oddly enough placed on her thighs. How long had she been here? I wondered to myself, withdrew my legs and stretched my body — the sofa wasn’t exactly ergonomic in any way, the strain in my back proof of that. I reached over to the side-table next to the sofa and lit the small lamp there. Lily got up from the sofa and walked over to my kitchen. I was yet to muster up the effort to get up myself, but Lily was quickly back. She held a glass of water.
“Uhh… Lily?” I asked; a bit worried about what she was up to. Her stony silence was creeping me out a bit. She put it on the side-table, and then leaned down towards me and whispered:
“You weren’t supposed to wake up… go back to sleep, my beloved.” She said and planted a kiss on my lips, and my head grew foggy.
Ugh, am I fainting — no! Lily, come back! Wait! The words didn’t leave my mouth, I suddenly felt too weak to talk. Lily was walking away, and I briefly heard the front-door shut closed before a compact darkness overtook my mind.
###
Lily didn’t come back. Two years passed, and she still didn’t come back. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect after our only night together, I must admit. Thinking about her feelings towards me scared me, and mesmerized me back then — but I had yet to actually feel the same. There had been so much about her that was foreign to me, and I had still feared for my own well-being at times. When she left however… my feelings suddenly became all too clear. I needed her; I felt as if part of me had been ripped away.
I was devastated and my whole life just kind of stopped when she left. I had no clue where or why she had left; there was no letter, no phone-call, no promise to return; nothing. I mean, my life did move on — just not with me 100% in it. I finished my undergrad-courses in one semester, and my application for University was accepted. I turned 21. Dex graduated University with a magister-degree in law and had to move to get a job. He didn’t move far away though, so he came to visit often. The millennia of 2000 came around, but I didn’t get into the mood everyone else felt. Dex had forced me to make a new-year’s vow to stop comfort-eating, and get my life together. I figured I owed him that much. With sheer willpower I dragged myself up from my couch, and began going to the gym again to work away my depression. I subleased my condo in the suburbs, and moved into the University-dorms — much cheaper and closer to school. I met Julie. I finished first year. I turned 22. Julie and I got serious, I guess, and Julie moved into my one-bed dorm-room (don’t ask why). Much happened during those two years — but it was mostly automatic. I kind of felt I was only there for the ride.
Julie; what to say about her? Sheltered, cute, and very intelligent semi-closeted lesbian — nothing more, nothing less. She was studying sociology, and we bumped into each other during the hazing the upperclassmen put me and my fellow engineering-majors’ through. We kind of clicked (meaning she kind of crushed on me and I was too damn lonely to ignore it). Don’t get me wrong, she was a really nice girl, we had some chemistry, and a great time when we were together.
I think my disappointment was one-sided, and I knew exactly why I felt that way; because I missed Lily’s presence in every single aspect of my life. Sex with Julie could be great — but not earth-shattering like sex with Lily had been. Julie was funny, but she didn’t have that sharp wit that Lily possessed. Julie was definitely good-looking, but not mind-blowingly beautiful the way Lily had been. She could be really sexy when she wanted to, but not otherworldly sensual with absolutely zero effort, in the way Lily had pulled off.
Therein laid my problem; I compared Julie to Lily — an apple with an orange, so to speak. Or how about ‘a pretty, blonde sociology-student from a privileged family, to a 300-year old vampire who had completely mesmerized me from first touch’, for an analogy? In the end though, it would work out OK. I just had to stop comparing Julie to Lily — who was long gone and would probably never return — and gaziantep escort I’d find happiness.
Or so I kept telling myself, every night when Julie was away on her study-circle, and I laid alone in my bed and read the tattered and torn note that Lily had written to me the morning after the first, and only, time we’d had sex:
“Chris, I wish you a good day now that you are reading this. I am currently, while writing this note, laying here and watching you sleep — and I must say that I find it extremely soothing. I sincerely hope that you want me to visit again, but in the case that you do not — tell me the next time we meet. I truly hope that you do, however, because your presence inspires within me feelings that are immensely satisfying yet foreign. I want to explore these feelings further.
I do not wish for you to feel uncomfortable or afraid in any way, if we meet again, so please forgive my more… primal personality-outbreaks. It has been a long time since I have socialized, so to speak, with a human. I would really like to meet you again.
/Lily” it said.
The more times I read the note, the less I started to believe in that last sentence — yet reading it had become a ritual I couldn’t seem to shake off. A sane person should probably just have thrown it away by then and moved on, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do that. I was still secretly hoping, in the furthest depths of my mind, that Lily would return to me — or at least contact me. When she first admitted to me what she was I thought I’d lost my sanity, but the more time we spent with each other the more real it became — the more I trusted myself about my experience. When she left I gradually began to doubt myself again. The longer time passed without me seeing her, the less I believed that what I had been through had been real. I really had no proof that any of the things that I experienced with Lily had actually been real. Maybe everything had been the hallucinations of a madwoman.
Before Julie, I had had a lot of alone-time in my dorm-room, almost frantically studying so as not to remind myself of Lily. I was top of my class and my bachelor’s-degree in computer-science was coming along more than nicely. After Julie though? Things went straight to hell. Not because of something that she did, but more because of what I was constantly doing: Comparing my current girlfriend to a lost lover. I lived in a pretty small dormitory, meant for the engineering-classes, while Julie had lived in a much bigger — and much more cramped — dorm where the societal-science classes were housed. That had probably been one of the reasons Julie had wanted to move to my dorm-room in the first place. I felt obliged to give her my spare-time, and whenever she wasn’t around I was dwelling on guilt and memories.
I carefully folded up the torn note, and placed it inside an old book, and tossed the book onto the nearly empty bookshelf. Minutes later, Julie flung the door open.
“Ugh, Lizzy showed up again. The study-circle was Cold War-tense, I’m telling you.” She said the minute the door was closed. Lizzy was apparently an ex-friend of Julie’s, who when Julie opened up about dating me, went all close-minded bigot and shoved Julie out of her circle of friends. Honestly, I wasn’t that into the whole conflict; I had bumped into Lizzy once, given her a piece of my mind, and since then she hadn’t bothered me. Julie tossed her bag and books on the floor, and when she noticed I wasn’t really paying attention to what she had said, she flung onto my bed — and onto me — and whispered;
“Make me feel better…?” with a cute little twinkle in her eyes. I wasn’t really in the mood for sex, obviously I had a lot of other things (read: Lily) on my mind.
Before I entered my first real relationship about 3 years ago, I had a different girl in my bed each night I went out. Then I met Mira, and we had a hot night together, after which we entered into a relationship with each other — despite that both of us probably knew better. I got way too attached to her, and she cheated on me — with a guy, on top of everything — and it devastated me. I picked up my old habit of hooking up with easy girls to kind of drown my grief, and then life threw me another curved ball; I met Lily.
And we all know how that ended, don’t we? Thing is, I didn’t pick up that old habit after Lily left and before Julie and I became a thing — random sexual encounters and hook-ups held absolutely zero appeal to me after Lily. To be honest, it was like sex didn’t hold the same appeal to me whatsoever — it was all so bland and dull compared to what Lily had… exposed me to. Imagine taking ecstasy once, having the time of your life, and then trying to reach that same peak again with a caffeine-pill. Yeah, get my point?
Julie kissed me, at first only small pecking kisses. I gave little to no response, and she decided to go for heavier kisses hatay escort to draw my attention to her. That was almost always the way it was — she had to almost demand my attention, or I automatically wouldn’t recognize her the way she actually deserved. I felt so bad for being like that, but I just didn’t know how not to be such a douche. To avoid the situation becoming strained and weird if she could see how un-interested I was, I decided to put some effort into it. My hands lamely wandered down to her butt, and took a firm grip. Julie interpreted that just like anyone else would — she became aroused and in turn ramped up her own efforts at arousing me. Her kisses went from my lips, to my throat and collarbone, and then further and further down. Julie wiggled my jeans off and proceeded to take off my boxer-briefs. Mmh, I was beginning to feel aroused, but it wasn’t whole-heartedly — as Julie soon would discover. She moved onto performing cunnilingus, I wouldn’t have to fake an orgasm or anything silly like that — Julie was really good at it, as I had been demonstrated earlier in our relationship. My breath was becoming somewhat labored, and my hand sought itself to Julie’s blond curls and I fisted a handful of it.
My orgasm came eventually; weak, brief and quiet. Julie pulled herself up to face me, and clear disappointment was visible in her expression. She was most certainly disappointed with herself, rather than me. That certainly killed whatever mood there was left. I felt so guilty, and like a total fucking douche — but I didn’t want to convey that to her. Honestly the thought of a “relationship-talk” freaked me out, and I didn’t want go there that night. Or preferably any other night either.
“Let’s just… sleep, okay?” I said in a sad tone. Julie gave a short nod, and got up from the bed to get undressed and wash up. When she came back, I got up in turn to do the same, and when I came back Julie had moved as far away from my side of the bed as she could. Her back was turned to me, and she had her sheet up to almost cover her head. With a sinking feeling in my stomach I lied down and shut off the lights. Sleep took a very long time to present itself that night.
###
“Hey you. I left early, thought we could watch a movie or something.” Julie said as she came in through the door.
“Uh-huh.” I mumbled, with my back turned to her. I was coding for our damned course-project that was due finish in a month. Julie showing up sooner than expected stirred up anxiety within me. I had sort of looked forward to be alone for a while. Me, my thoughts, and I. Touché.
“You OK?” Julie asked, and came up behind me, leaning down over my shoulder. I gave a short nod, suddenly irritated for some strange reason. Julie pulled back and perched herself on my bed with her laptop.
“Come over here.” As I got up and turned around, I was suddenly gripped by some sort of panic. Is this all there is to it? I thought to myself. Going to school, going to the gym, hanging around with my girlfriend that I truly wasn’t in love with — and then what?
“I’m not in the mood.” I said perhaps a bit too sharply, and Julie looked at bit taken aback. I hurried to fetch my sports-trunk with my gym-equipment, and left. With very fast steps I was out of the dormitory and heading towards the gym. I had to relax my mind, think about other stuff than my pathetic life.
I couldn’t really focus during my gym-cycle; I didn’t finish nearly all of the sets, and I only seemed to walk between machines, do I couple of reps and switch — too restless or fidgety to actually accomplish any real work-out. I was thinking about Julie, how I had shoved her away and gone to the gym, and how fucking stupid that was of me. She had left for her study-circle as always, although she had excused herself and left early to come home. I think she had sort of felt the bad vibes going on in our relationship, and she tried her best to fix it however she could. I don’t think that it helped matters that we hadn’t had sex since the catastrophic attempt the week before. I think Julie didn’t really know how to interpret all that. I admit; I had been in a sort of sour mood the whole week, inadvertently punishing Julie for something she hadn’t even done. It wasn’t her fault that she fell in love with someone as obviously broken as me.
I left the gym, and the cold of the autumn-night was quickly seeping through my hoodie. With a heavy sigh I picked up my pace and turned towards the last walk-over on the way to the dormitories. This particular walk-over was sort of clouded behind the weeping birches planted at the edge of the side-walk as decorations, and so I didn’t have a full view of the actual street. There was never any traffic there anyways, and I didn’t think more about that in my hurry to get home. Slap my ass and call me Sally — about half-way across the street I briefly looked up, and in my periphery I could hatay escort barely make out a car speeding towards me with its headlights turned off.
“Jesus fucking…!” I shouted as I prepared to nosedive to the side to avoid the speeding car, but was instead practically tackled to the other side of the street by some unknown assailant. My vision was blurred with the force and speed, my confused mind tried to sort out the experience. Was I hit by the car and tossed aside by the force like a lifeless ragdoll? I certainly felt no pain indicating that I was dying. What I did feel was trapped… wrapped in something. My right flank hurt a bit, probably the side where I had absorbed the impact of whomever or whatever had tackled me. My head was trying to orient itself, to no avail. I felt dizzy and shocked by what had just occurred.
“I got you… I got you.” Someone breathed in relief. I froze; my mind cleared up instantly; my vision sharpened. That voice. I pushed myself away with jerky motions — my muscles didn’t seem to have recuperated themselves yet, I was still sort of wobbly and weak. After taking a couple of staggering steps backwards, a mix between fear and utter disbelief took place in my mind. I was looking up, looking up at the face that that voice belonged to. Lily.
“N-n-no! No. No, you’re not real. You’re no—”
“Chris. Wait, hold—”
“I have to get out of here.” I was rambling, I wasn’t even sure I actually vocalized what I was trying to say properly. Utter panic surfaced within me, some sort of instinct that just screamed at me to run to save myself from further harm be it physical or emotional. I started to sort of hobble away, clutching my right flank with my left arm, and balancing myself with my right arm. Something grabbed it. Well, a hand obviously grabbed it — and I came to an abrupt stop. The chill from the touch registered immediately in my brain.
“Don’t touch me!” I turned around and shouted, and the hand retreated. Oh fuck, she was just standing there. Or was she?
“Oh God, this is it. This is where I have finally gone off the deep end. Jesus fucking Christ, will you leave me alone! Oh fuck, oh fuck, this can’t be happening.” I was probably making little to no sense, but Lily, or whatever sort of apparition she was, watched me patiently. Why wasn’t I happy to see her — even if she was only a hallucination resulted from the shock of having almost been overrun? Oh right, two years of impetuous emotional torture, I forgot.
“You… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… to tackle you that hard. You might want to get that checked up.” Lily said and gestured to my bruised torso.
“Yeah, thanks. Your concern is noted.” I said dryly, before I started limping off again. I was anxious to get out of there, I mean someone could see me standing there and talking to myself, and that would just be too much.
“Don’t leave yet. Give… give me a second chance Chris. Can we meet in two days, take ourselves time to talk?”
“Sure, why not?” I dismissed her over my shoulder. Yeah, right. She didn’t follow me, or bothered me anymore, and eventually I made it to my dorm-room. Probably some sort of adrenaline-rush that prevented me from collapsing right then and there. Julie eventually opened the door to my room, gasped out loud when she saw the state I was in. My clothes were disheveled, and I was still clutching my side.
“What happened to you?!” she shouted as she pulled up my hoodie and discovered the worryingly big, purple bruise over the ribs on my right flank.
“Crazy-ass biker…” I sputtered between gritted teeth. What was I going to say? An imagination of my long-gone vampire-lover saved me from getting overrun by a possible DUI by tackling me off the street. Right, I would have paved my way to a mental asylum. Then I fainted.
###
As it turned out I had no broken ribs. What I did have was one small fracture on the 5th and 6th rib on my right side, together with some bruising and tissue-damage as a result from the blunt-force. Nevertheless, I ended up getting discharged and sent home with a prescription on some standard pain-killers. The Friday passed in a blur, and I spent the weekend in my dorm-room, for the most part trying to rest and catch up on some missed school-work.
I was too agitated to make much sense of the computer-coding I had to go through; my mind was yet again occupied by Lily. I had a conflict going on inside of me; whether to believe what I had been through had actually happened, or whether to dismiss it as some longing-induced hallucination. Jesus Christ, would my fucking issues never end? Had she really been there, had she really come back? Too fed-up with my thoughts, I forced myself to move on to other issues. Translated; Julie.
What to do about her? I had lied to her when she had asked me what had happened, and I had acted like a complete asshole towards her for most of our time together. Not intentionally, of course, but still — my behavior during the past four-five months dawned on me suddenly. My feelings toward Julie might not have been the strongest and most faithful, and she deserved better than me. I had to talk to her, at least try.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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