Marlowe and Dorina

by d c mallory

 

I was sitting in this dive just off the main docks, trying to clear my head of all the bullshit that was swirling around in my brain. To say the past week had sucked would be an understatement at a whole new level. In fact, to call it anything less than a cataclysmic catastrophe would be to sell the entire damn shebang well short of a dollar.  Nothing I did could redeem the time I’d lost in my life – or unlife since I was basically dead – even though I could technically live forever. Still, with everything out of whack I did what any man would do; hoof it to a distinctly seedy bar and wallow in the lack of ambiance.

When I get low, I tend to migrate to shit-holes like the one I was currently holding down a stool in; it reminds me of my old days of slumming in the backstreets of London. By early days I mean the late 1500’s, not a few years ago. And, don’t read me wrong, London is not a shit-hole, at least not nowadays. But a few centuries ago it was indeed a shit-hole, and I claimed it for my own when depression set in.

Everything about this dive reminded me of the old days when I wanted nothing more than to get out of England altogether and see something new. The stench of piss and puke drifting in from the crappers in the back of the place would have knocked me out of the chair if I’d had to breathe, which thankfully I didn’t. And the smell of the unwashed masses milling about me would have accomplished the job if the stink of the crappers didn’t; seems they’d let just about anybody in this place. Of course, in the owner’s defense I’d have to say they let me in, so there. They even served me beer, if you could call this panther piss beer.

Of course, I didn’t come here for any of those reasons anyway. I went for the ancient memories of the eras long past. And, maybe, so I could surreptitiously feed on the unsuspecting low-life’s that had nowhere else to go but to pass the time in this dump. Too damn bad they were such dregs of society; it seemed that their blood was as tainted as their miserable lives, leaving a rotten taste in my mouth. Then again, maybe I was the only one in this place which was miserable; everyone else seemed to be rather chipper, all things considered.

When I came visiting, I always sat as far at the back of the bar as possible, taking a stool near the bend in the counter and checking out who went past me to use the shitters. Sure, it might seem to be an oxymoron, sitting next to the crappers and their putrid odor with my excellent sense of smell. But it was easy to grab a few bites from the patrons as they went to take care of business, whether it was standing over the porcelain God, sitting on it, or kneeling in front of it with their heads in the crusty brown infested bowl. How they could stand having their face only inches above water that Typhoid Mary would have set records in getting away from was something I couldn’t and wouldn’t fathom.

On top of all that, sitting this far in the back of the bar put me as far from the front door as possible. I guess if I were to be technical, it would be the side door since you entered from the gravelly, potholed parking lot. The front of the establishment faced the street, but I felt so low that minor technicalities seemed to be beneath me. Oh, and from the spot I currently claimed as mine, I could glance up from time to time and see what was going on in the open areas behind me in the old mirror that ran the length of the bar.

Granted, the mirror was covered in a slimy film of some sort, embedded deep from too many years of neglect and cigarette smoke that made almost everything in it seem somewhat indistinct and ghostly, but it served its purpose. I could check out the patrons, and I could study the pouty man who always looked to be here at the same time I was, staring back from the mirror into brown eyes that matched my own. Now that I had lifted my head and stared at the person harder, I noticed that on top of the eyes, he had the same curly brown hair, hair that looked almost like a used mop-head mounted on a manikin, and my thin lips framed by a snappy little goatee.

Finally breaking free of the face in the mirror, I gave quick surveillance of the area, just trying to stay a step ahead of the dirtbags around me. Being the Spymaster for the North American Senate, which consisted solely of Vampires, at least until the occurrences of the last week that had pushed me back into this shit-hole, I was in charge of security. Part of security is surveillance, hence me scoping out the area in the depths of the mirror.

While I never bothered to check out any of the human’s in the dive because they really offered me no threat, I did need to keep a careful watch out for other supernaturals, such as the fey, shifters, and, naturally, since they are far more dangerous than other denizens of the world, other vampires. Don’t get me wrong, I usually never had to fear anything from the American monsters due to my position on the Senate, but there were always those who had a bone to pick with me. Not to mention that there were vampires that belonged to Senate’s in other countries. And these were always a threat to my personal well-being.

After another cursory check of the area didn’t pick up anything going on, all clear on the Western Front, as the saying goes, I began to relax a little. All the other races had their “smell” or an inherent pulse of power, but nothing was pinging off my subconscious except for the feeling of abject failure that came to me at times when I had, well, failed. The only supes in this dump right now were a group of werewolves holding down a table in the far corner. They were going through peanuts like a twister through Kansas, and I figured the management would either give them the boot or make them pay for future barrels of peanuts. Either way, it made me no never-mind as I was suddenly distracted by a cute little thing walking by.

I was just getting ready to put the bite on the little redhead who reminded me of a witch I had known in Salem when I was considered new to the undead scene when I heard the hinges on the door squealing in torture as it was nearly yanked from the frame. It set off warning bells in my head the size of Alaska, both because it was one damned big door, and also because it meant the person doing the damage didn’t give a shit. As I glanced up in the mirror to try to catch a glimpse of the cretin causing the door to rattle, a sense of pure power washed over me.

All of my vampire senses went on instant alert, and I came up out of the stool and landed on the scuffed wood floor, swung around into a defensive crouch, only to find myself staring directly into the glowing red eyes of a dhampir. Since I was hunkered down, my ass nearly touching my ankles, being able to look into featureless eyes when the person was standing upright told me that they were undoubtedly no giant. Maybe five foot plus change. Max. This told me everything I needed to know; the newest member of the American Senate, the only non-Vampire ever allowed in its hallowed halls, had come out to play. Fuck. Me. Fuck me in the ass. With no lube!

Dory Basarab, Mircea Basarab’s daughter by birth, not by blood exchange or other vampire hanky-panky, was right in front of me and, from her intense gaze, sizing me up. This couldn’t be good for me.

A big ball of trouble wrapped in a diminutive package, Dory was short, with brown eyes that went black when she was pissed, and ridiculously short brown hair that made her face seem slightly round, almost like a cherub. When I would rag on her on the way she kept hair short she would tell me was kept it that way so it couldn’t be used as a handle in a fight, but I think she was just too damned lazy to keep up with it long. I would never comment on her cherubic face – I would like to see the next century. Or even the next day. Her complexion was as pale as mine, which was strange since she had no problem with the sunlight like us made vampires did, but I guess it just ran in the family; all the Basarab’s were pale. She wore her trademark leathers, and it was hard not to notice that her bust nearly burst out of her top and her ass filled out the pants quite nicely. I might have tried to hit on her ages ago if it wasn’t for her condition. I did mention the Dhampir part, right? Can’t forget to mention the attitude, either. Fucking Bitch.

Seeing now that it was only Dory, I started to straighten back up to slip back into the stool. I mean, she was on our side in the war, right? I shouldn’t have to fear anything from her at all. In the process of straightening up, I tried to glance around her to see if Louis-Ceasar, Dory’s – as ludicrous as it may seem to me – boyfriend was out on the town with her. While I might not worry about the tiny little chick in front of me, Louis-Ceasar was a significant problem for anyone – vampire or not – and one individual I definitely did not want to deal with. Not only was he the dueling champion of both the European and American Senate’s, but he was Dory’s vamp, and he didn’t like other’s sniffing around that what he considered his. He should know he didn’t have to worry about me; I was too high-brow to associate with the likes of this tramp. It made me wonder what his deal was with dating a Dhampir, especially when a Dhampir’s primary goal was killing vampires. I guess to each their own.

“Dory,” I started as I was still rising up out of the crouch. “How nice of you, Umph!”

She grabbed me quicker than a mongoose on a cobra and threw me to the ground in a one-handed toss that would have made a sumo-wrestler smile. I hit the ground hard, with my head bouncing off the filthy floor with enough force to see stars dancing in my vision. Before my head could clear, the Dhampir was sitting on my chest with her legs pressing tightly on either side of my ribs, all the while holding my arms down with her knees. Her hands were wrapped around my neck, squeezing like she was trying to milk blood out of a stone, and her face was so close to mine that all I could see were those two black orbs she tries to pass off as eyes when the curse is riding her. Dory drew her head back slightly, enough that I could see her mouth open slightly, allowing me to see her vestigial fangs peeking out from between her blood red lips.

While it was uncomfortable having her hands wrapped around my throat, it wasn’t life threatening as I didn’t have to breath, so I didn’t panic. Although I understood the reason she did this was to disorient me, as in the old breathing days when it did make a difference, it didn’t affect me now. Then, like lightning striking a power pole, the little vixen was up off me, using her choke hold to snatch me up along with her and then fling me into the side of the bar. I guess I had misunderstood the whole hands on the neck trick; I’d need to file that little tidbit away for another time.

As I bounced off the bar and onto the floor again, I decided I’d had enough. I knew that to put the whammy on Mircea’s daughter would put me in the proverbial doghouse with him. But, by the same token, to stand here and let a misbegotten little strumpet like this Dhampir put me down, especially in public, would ruin any standing I had in the Vamp community. I smiled, thinking to myself that quick decisions are what I do best. Let me give this some thought; let her smack me around like a cheap whore by a deluded john or incur her daddies wrath by beating her down into the ground. Hmmm, yeah. Fuck her daddies’ anger – her ass was mine.

As she leaped for me again, I rolled to the left, right into the damned bar. The fat slob sitting on the stool next to where I hit tried to jump out of the way but fell off the seat instead. With the luck of the Irish, which thankfully I’m not, the fat fuck fell right instead of left, landing his four hundred pounds of non-washed flesh right on me. I was squashed out flat on the floor, with a man the size of a walrus writhing around on top of me like he was trying to rut with his mate.

Thankfully, Dory took care of fat boy by grabbing his arm and flinging him to the other side of the room. Unfortunately, he landed in the barrel the werewolves were eating their peanuts out of, his ass firmly stuck in the opening at the top. The shifters looked madder than a fistful of hornets in a milk jar. Great, now I’d have to watch out for a crazed woman and a pack of pissed off wolves. Yippee!

Before Dory could get back to me, I launched myself off the ground at her, wrapping my arms around her to tie her up. With a strike like a great white shark on a surf-boarder, I brought my knee up into her gut. While under normal circumstances I would have felt wrong about attacking a woman, this bitch didn’t fit that category. Between this lower form of life and myself, it was all systems go on the bitch-slapping.

Hearing the air rush out of her as my knee connected brought me such a sense of exhilaration that I released my bear hug on her and grabbed her leather vest with my left hand before she could move back. I jerked her up straight and delivered a hay-maker with my right fist that started from behind my shoulder and picked up steam all the way to the delivery dock. Her lips broke open as my right hand slammed into her mouth, and I swear I felt her teeth loosen. Score one for The Man!

With her devil-like black eyes glazing over, I hit her again with a substantial right, cutting her left eyebrow open and threatening to close the eye below it from the rapid swelling. Wow! That would take a ton of ice to bring down. I let go of her and brought my left hand up in an uppercut that felt like it started at the floor and made solid contact just under her chin. Her head rocked back like a horse being reined in, and she hit the floor with a surprisingly satisfying thud. That should teach the bitch not to fool with her betters!

I bent over her, and got my head inches from hers, just to make sure that she could hear me. I didn’t want any misunderstanding from her when I offered her up the chance to yield. I would give her a chance, but I hoped all the while she’d pull her typical stunt and refuse it. I could stand to get a few more licks in on the over-presumptuous, over-reaching, out of her class, short-haired little slut. Did I mention I loathe Dhampirs? Hmmm, maybe my actions spoke louder than words. Whatever.

“Dory,” I said, soft and low, trying to sound as mellow and still as cantankerous as possible, just to piss her off.

“Dory, do you yield?”

I squatted over her, looking into eyes that didn’t seem to be looking back. Hell, maybe I’d clocked her a lot harder than I’d thought. The week was looking up after all.

“Dory? Dory? Come on back, you fucking throwback to the ice age! You fucking lowlife piece of trash. Do. You. YIELD?”

I fairly spit out the last word, I was so pissed off. The glow of whipping Dory’s ass was starting to wear off, and the full realization that I had just beaten the shit out of the new pet of the Senate into the dirty stinking floor of a no-name dive was slowly washing over me. Christ, what a cluster fuck this was going to turn out to be. I should have just let her slap me around for a while to get it out of her system.

I continued to stare down at her, trying to look past my hate for her kind. Aside from the bruises, and the split eyebrow, and the fat lip and loose teeth, she was rather attractive. And those injuries looked pretty good as I had been the delivery mechanism of said blows.

Aside from her attacking me today, she had never really done anything to me to feel this irrational dislike towards her. Sure, she was a Dhampir, but even gutter-rats had their uses; Mircea sure played her like a Harp from Hell; how could he expect any other vampire to treat her any differently?

I was so busy sorting out a myriad of feelings that I missed when the eyes began to flow back to some degree of focus. With speed I would never associate with her kind, she had me around the neck again. That wouldn’t have been all that bad, except that she brought her knee up into my nuts while holding tightly holding on. If I hadn’t already been down on my knees, I’m sure I would have been after the boys were introduced to Miss Kneecap.

“Who in the hell is Dory, you stupid stuck up bastard? I didn’t slam you hard enough to rattle your brains, you ignorant baboon! And even if I were this Dory person you seem to have me confused with, I wouldn’t yield to a puffed-up pussy like you!”

Not Dory, I thought, as I became airborne again and had a couple of seconds to let it float through my mind before striking the wall next to the door. Well, that explained the lack of Louis-Ceasar; he was Dory’s boyfriend. Dorina, however, didn’t have a man. And she didn’t have any pity either. She was the equivalent of a five-hundred-year-old first level master with no shut off valve. Shit. Cluster? Meet Fuck!

Dorina was back on me before I could jump back to my feet, flinging me through space again. I hit the ground near the back of the room, knocking over the peanut barrel with fatty still lodged securely in it. The werewolves had been trying to pry his fat disgusting ass out of it with no luck. I hit the barrel hard enough to cause it to split down both sides. The barrel flew apart, with fat boy dropping straight down, and the peanuts flying in all directions.

I heard the ripping of clothes even as I rolled onto my back and looked up. Yep, just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, the shit really hits the fan. I guess the peanuts being in orbit around the room was the final straw for the shifters, and they had lost the last bit of humanity they had been able to cling to. The only thing that could make this evening any worse was a table full of dark mages. I gave the room a quick perusal; no, no dark mages; the evening might not be a total bust after all.

I leaped to my feet and slid back half that distance to the bar in what would have been a heartbeat if I had one, as the pack of now entirely shifted wolves came at me. While under normal circumstances a few wolves wouldn’t be an issue, the room was tight. And it was full of humans, all of which now knew there were things on this earth that couldn’t be explained away. Forget the table full of mages, this was a far worse situation. I’d have to call in for damage control when I had everything back under control. Massive mind wipes to go!

Just as the first of the werewolves lunged at me, a blur passed me on my right, crashing into the lead shifter. The wolf went down in a tumble of blood and fur, screaming like a little girl as he received the champion of all nut twisters. Then the dark blur was on to the next shifter, giving him a taste of the true meaning of Hell. Even as one went down mangled and bloody, another wolf was being engaged. If one managed to get back to his feet with broken bones and bloody rents and tears and back into the fray, it was only a matter of seconds before he was back on the mat screaming all over again. I began to hope the healing properties of the shifters were as good as mine; if not, they were going to be out of commission for a while.

By the time my head had cleared enough to figure out there was a substantial amount of danger to be had to my person by the shifters, the fight was over. The dark blur flowed to a smooth stop and now stood completely still in the middle of the carnage, and color me surprised that the twister looked an awful lot like Dory. Er, I mean Dorina. She had a smug look in her eyes, and a happy little grin on her lips. If I didn’t know better, I’d even think she was sporting a little werewolf blood on her tiny Dhampir fangs. No, it couldn’t be. Well, looking at all the bleeding werewolves covering the floor, it could be.

We stood looking at each other over the mess, eyes locked together. As Dorina stared at me, I could feel her in my head. While I should have been pissed off for her using her mind games on me, or at least felt violated, all that registered was a sense of calm. It was almost as if she was letting me know that our private battle was over, at least for now.

She moved towards me, walking over the top of the downed opponents, never even glancing down as she trod on them. As she got closer to me, I felt my blood pressure rising, and it seemed as though I felt a stirring in my loins that I haven’t felt in ages. Whereas earlier in the evening I had seen only a downtrodden Dhampir, I now saw a warrior. I loved warriors.

She grabbed both of my shoulders as the gap between us closed. She pulled me into her and, standing on her toes, yanked my head down to hers, closing her lips over mine. I felt her tongue pushing against my lips, and then could feel it running across my teeth as she forced it through. At one point her tongue must have caught on one of my fangs, as I could taste her blood running into my mouth.

Pulling away, she took hold of my jacket and began to drag me towards the back room. I hoped it was the manager’s office, and not the ladies room, although at this point I didn’t rightly give a shit. My lust was running at full speed ahead, and I was so aroused at the thought of bedding this little Tasmanian Devil that my cock was straining at the zipper of my pants, trying to break out of its confinement.

Dorina kicked the door open hard enough that she barely had time to pitch me through the opening and into the room and then leap in behind me before the door hit the wall and slammed shut on its own, shaking not only the frame but the entire wall.

By the time the door had finished its trip, she was next to me, yanking off my coat. My shirt followed but in much less of a state of repair than the jacket. I would say I found it offensive that she was ripping my clothes off, but I was working tearing off hers just as quickly.

Before she could say Jack-Be-Nimble, I had her top off and her ample breasts in my hands. To say they were a handful would be like saying you could always get enough chocolate. I’d have needed four hands to do full justice to those beauties. Since I only had two, I figured I would just have to work twice as hard and throw in a little mouth action to achieve the same effect. No time like the present to give it a shot.

Cupping her breasts firmly, my hands gripping them like a set of water balloons, I leaned in and took a nipple into my mouth. Squeezing the breasts tightly made the nipple poke out more, almost like it was attached to a party hat. I sucked the sweet little nib into my mouth, pulling it in further by sucking it in with my lips. I gave it plenty of attention before switching to her sister in my other hand; I’d be a liar if I said anything other than “it was just as fine as its twin.” Double the pleasure, double the fun, Doublemint, Doublemint…ah fuck it, you get the idea.

As I let up on her nipples, I had every intention of removing her pants, by hook or by crook. It seemed as though I were a few thoughts behind her, though. Before I could even move my hands into position, Dorina had my pants off, and not in one piece. Useless material was flying every which way, and I didn’t even care. My cock, relieved at being freed from the restraints that now lay scattered about the floor, was waving in the air at full mast like the main mast on her Queen’s galleons. God Bless the Queen!

I was still thinking about freeing Dorina from her pants went she dropped down in front of me and clutched my engorged cock in her hand, and yanked me to my feet. She held onto my length like she was afraid it might get away, tight and firm. With a practiced air about her, she began to pump her hand up and down, like she was trying to coax water out of an old well. I thought I was in heaven until she latched on with her other hand at the same time, hands positioned like she was clutching a baseball bat, ready to put both appendages to good use. Now I swear I could hear the angels singing.

Holding my length like she was trying to keep a giant snake from attacking, she went to work. I’m may not be huge in the cock department like some claim they are, but even with both her hands on my tool she had plenty of room left to work the handle. And operate the handle she did.

I would have been content had she pulled on it the rest of the night, but that was not to be. With what I would have had to call a growl, she pulled me towards her and took the tip of my dick into her mouth. The way she was sucking on my root seemed it would have had to hurt her with her split lip, but the healing process appeared to have taken care of that issue already, so it was all systems go. She was working so fervently that she had to remove the hand closet to her mouth so she could take more of me in. I knew from the way her one hand still held me as close to my balls as she could get that a fair amount of my cock was down her throat. The way she kept it down there, it made me wonder whether or not she had to breathe. At one time I had thought so, but now I found I really could care less.

She worked on me, her head bobbing up and down like a jack-in-the-box until I felt that I was getting ready to go. From being around for so long, I knew some women got pissed off if you didn’t warn them of an impending eruption so they could get their mouth away from the source before the cum flowed, so I told her to get ready. I guess she’s not one of those who thinks twice about taking a little spew down the hatch as she kept her mouth on my cock as I came, the amount of cum flowing out of my member seemingly trying to compete with Niagra Falls. Even as I groaned and arched into her, shoving my cock further down her throat, she stoically kept up with her ministrations on my manhood.

As she let my cock go, I moved in closer to her and picked her up, throwing her down on her back across the desk. Everything on top of the surface slid off and hit the ground, but since it all looked like useless shit, I didn’t think it would matter anyway.

Finally, my hands caught up with my brain, and I got hold of her pants up near her hips. Without even bothering to undo the button that secured them, I yanked them down, exposing her panties, which made me snort in laughter; they were covered with little yellow smiley faces, every one of them with dark red lips. From beneath the lips, small fangs peeked out, no bigger than those a Dhampir might sport. Maybe this girl had a sense of humor after all. Or maybe I did since I found it funny. Then again, perhaps it was a subliminal message, saying this cunt had teeth, so buyer beware. Whatever it was, I didn’t waste any more time with frivolities; I freed her legs from her pants and made the panties disappear into the corner with a flick of the wrist. Out of sight, out of mind. What wasn’t out of sight was what was now right in front of me.

With her pants and panties out of the way, I stared at what God had given her. Her mound was as bare as a monk’s head, and the skin as pale as Snow White’s. I marveled at the beauty of her little pink kitty, and couldn’t wait to see if I could bring her to the same heights with my mouth as she had managed to do to me with hers. No time like the present to find out.

With the lines from ‘Dynamo-Hum’ rattling through my mind like a murder of crows, I slid her forward so I could get my mouth on her pussy. I was surprised when my lips made contact with her twat that she wrapped her legs around my head, pulling in me tighter to her. With as wound up as I was, she didn’t need to do that as I planned on my lips being as close to her pussy as a tick on a hound.

I ran my tongue up each side of her pussy, between her lips and the skin along her hips, just barely caressing her lips on either side of her opening. In between licking her sweet little package, I let my tongue slide over her nether region, tickling the area between her two holes. When I moved from licking her pussy lips to the tiny mound of her clit, I took a second to let the saliva build up on my tongue to make sure there’d be plenty of slicknesses to tease the little bullet with. I ran the tip of my tongue over the little bud, like a cat lapping milk from a bowl. Hell, I was having such a time buffing her little kitty that I was probably purring; I could tell she was from the mewing noises coming from her throat.

Even as I worked her sex, I knew I had to claim more of her with my mouth. Placing my hands on the back of her knees, her legs were stuck straight up in the air like a giant ‘V’ for “Victory,” I pushed them forward toward her chest, causing her ass to tilt up even more and giving me unbridled access to the forbidden little bunghole which was now nicely puckered due to her new position. Since it was staring right at me like a one-eyed snake, I knew it would be a sin to let it go to waste. I leaned in and ran my tongue over the opening of her ass a few times, then placed my lips over it, sucking the flesh into my mouth. With the sucking bringing the butt-hole even closer, I darted the tip of my tongue into the opening.  Then, as the saliva slicked it up, I forced the tongue deep in the opening, bringing a gasp of surprise from Dorina. I noticed right away that her asshole didn’t taste like chicken, but it tasted swell just the same.

With a new zest, I worked between her two holes, licking and sucking until she was bucking under my efforts like a bull at the rodeo. As she arched her hips up and held it, I took her clit into my mouth again and bit down on it with my teeth. She was pushing into me so hard that I felt my fangs break her skin on either side of the nub, and I wasted no time in sucking the blood into my mouth along with her clit; the blood was warm and sweet – just like the pulsing bud – mixing with the juice flowing from her snatch. Nothing made sex better than a mixed drink!

As weird sounds began to come from her throat, she grabbed my hair with her hand. Holding me firmly in place at the junction of her thighs, she ejaculated a clear liquid into my mouth. I gulped at the sticky fluid greedily and swallowed all of it I could get in my mouth, feeling a sense of accomplishment. I also felt my cock crying out for another round of much-needed relief. To satisfy it, I wasted no time in standing up, her knees still cupped in my hands, and her ass up in the air like a hot air balloon.

As I moved in so I could get my cock in her pussy, she got a hold of my manhood and, using her free hand to spread her pussy lips apart and baring her engorged clit, began to pound the head of my dick down onto her sex, like John Henry driving spikes with his hammer. She repeated this process over and over and, judging from the way she was starting to make those noises again, I thought it must be doing her good. By the way my dick was growing larger, both in length and in width, I knew it wasn’t hurting me any either.

As she continued to pound away, and I thought I was going to come again from the workout I was getting, she pushed back on my cock and lined my length up with her pussy opening, then arched just enough that my cock penetrated her warm, wet hole. I tried to move into her slowly, but I had no resolve left; I slammed my entire length into her in one thrust, and she responded like a fireman at a burning house.

Letting go of her legs so I could work her right, she wrapped her now free legs around my back. I thought at first she was going to wrap them around me tight and limit how far I could pull out of her pussy, but she didn’t. She had her legs pressed against my back, but worked them like a set of springs; as I pulled back her calves bent at the knees and moved back with me, and as I thrust forward, her calves would tighten and pull me into her hard, causing my balls to bang against her butt cheeks with a slapping sound.

We continued fucking like this for a long time. I don’t know if it just felt so right being in Dorina, or if there was some chemistry between us, but I felt as if I could fuck her from dusk to dawn, and then some. The fact that it had already been hours was irrelevant; I was just getting warmed up, and I think she was as well.

Just as I thought about flipping her over for a change of scenery, she took my cock in her hand and pulled it out of her pussy. I began to worry that maybe the fun was over, but then I got the ultimate surprise. She pulled her legs up into her body, and, with her ass in the air, she placed the tip of my cock on the opening of her ass.

“My ass is ready!” she growled at me.

“Push!” she grunted, looking into my eyes. I noticed with some pleasure that her eyes now burned like the very flames of hell. “Push that thing into my ass, you contemptuous little prick!”

After giving me terms of endearment like that, she didn’t need to tell me twice. I pushed. Man, did I push! Slowly and firmly I pushed, penetrating her ass with my cock. If I thought her pussy was tight, it had absolutely nothing on her butt hole. This was pure heaven, a feeling of which I had never known existed; it was like trying to push my cock into a cup of Play-Dough. In my hundreds of years of existence, I had never had my cock entrenched in a woman’s ass. It never occurred to me that this was an option that should have been explored. Live and learn.

With a new zeal, I pushed the full length of my cock into her, reveling in the experience. The further I drove into her tightness, the more her ass lifted as if positioning itself to take more in. As I pushed in again, I snuck a peek, not wanting to appear to be a pervert. I immediately noticed how strange it looked, my cock embedded deep in her, but her pussy empty. As I pushed my cock into her ass, her butt cheeks pushed in, and as I pulled it out, I could see the skin around her ass pulling back with me as if refusing to let go of my cock. It made me want to work that ass that much harder, and Lord knows I’ve never been a slacker.

Work harder I did. I worked her ass hard for a long time, sticking with it until all I could hear were sucking noises with each stroke. We stayed with it for what seemed an eternity,  then I pulled my cock out, and flipped her over, so she was laying face down on the desk. Spreading her cheeks apart, so there was nothing to get in the way, I pushed my cock back into her ass, happy to know it felt just as good entering her from behind as it did from the front.

We worked that particular position for an hour, and when we tired of it, I lay down on the floor, and she climbed on top of me, putting my manhood back into her ass as she settled down on me, rocking my world like I’d never known.

When we finally wore down to the point we couldn’t go anymore, she leaned forward, and we lay, chest to chest, her head resting in the shallow of my shoulder, my arms wrapped in contentment around her back. It was then, in the stillness that follows sex, that the ramifications of what we had just done began to sink in. I was completely unsure how this would affect our relationship or, in truth, our lack of one. Maybe it wouldn’t change it at all since there had been nothing in the sense of a connection to begin with.

On top of that, I had to wonder what Louis-Ceasar would do when he caught wind of this transgression. Would it make any difference that it was Dorina and not Dory who had given herself to me? Would he understand that the two were like sisters, stuck in the same body but each with a mind of their own, both trying to find their own way? Would I have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my long life, waiting for the killing stroke that would separate my head from my shoulders and bring me true death?

Would Mircea be understanding of the situation, or would he think I had taken advantage of the whole thing? Would he blame anyone, or just act like it had never happened? Would he go trolling through my mind, erasing the matter, so I wasn’t tempted to ever try it again, taking other necessary bits of information from me in malice?

The biggest question mark, besides what would happen when Dory/Dorina merged and sorted out the differences that lay between them, is how I felt about it all. Did I still harbor the deep resentment for Dory and her condition, or, if she became more Dorina then Dory, could I accept her if she chose to be with me? Could I stab Louis-Ceasar in the back, and face the Senate as though nothing had happened?

So many questions, and so few answers. And none of them made me feel like a winner.