The Vampyres

The Vampyres

By Thomas Blaine
(thomasblaine@yahoo.com)

The rental car sputtered and died as I steered onto the shoulder. I cursed loudly as I pounded the steering wheel. By morning, I needed to be in London and that was a good six hours away. It was just after sunset and I had no clue where I was . . . apart from somewhere north of London. So much for the relaxing business trip to England, I should have just stayed in New York.

I popped the hood and got out of the car to see if I could tell what was wrong. Of course I couldn't, but that didn't stop me from looking. I was an aerospace engineer, a designer of the shape of aircraft and missiles, not a mechanic. All I needed to know was how much room the engine would need and I designed around that. As for the workings of the engine, I was lost.

Damn British cars! Not only was the steering wheel on the wrong side but they broke down in the middle of the countryside. The moors, I think that's what they call them over there. I don't know. I thought two weeks in England would be exciting, at least that's what everyone told me, but two days into the trip I couldn't wait until I was on the American Airlines flight back to JFK.

When I first arrived, the airline (British Airways, of course) had lost my baggage. My hotel was overbooked and someone had my room, despite my reservation, so I had to stay elsewhere. The restaurant overcooked my food. The water tasted funny. I got lost for four hours in downtown London. My first rental car smelled like cigarette smoke. Things started getting better when I went out into the countryside for a drive, but then the car broke down.

And now, after all of this, I heared thunder in the background. It was going to rain on me!

"Damn it all!" I cursed, leaning over the engine to see if I could find a problem.

"Excuse me," a female voice said from behind me,

I wasn't expecting anyone to be around for miles . . . or maybe its kilometers, I still haven't figured out what the hell they use. The sudden voice startled me. I hit my head on the hood (thank God it didn't come crashing down one me) and cut my finger on a sharp bit of metal sticking out from the engine.

"Jesus, you startled me!" I said, turning around to face body behind the voice.

Standing a few feet down the road was a young blonde woman wearing a red dress and a heavy black cloak. She had stunning green eyes, high cheek bones, and rosy lips that sharply contrasted to her pale complexion.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said politely in an English accent. "You look like you're having problems with your motor."

A motor, not a car, a motor.

"Yes I am, the piece of junk just died on me a few minutes ago," I said, throwing my arms up in the air.

"Oh my, and you've cut your finger as well," she said.

"What, this?" I said, looking at the small amount of blood coming from the minor wound. "It's nothing."

She stepped forward and took my hand. Her touch was ice cold.

"You mustn't be to careless about such things," she said, eyeing the cut. "It could get infected and then where would you be."

She held my hand up closer to her face, I thought to get a better look and examine it for foreign material, but suddenly she put the finger in her mouth and began sucking it. It was very sudden . . . and very erotic, I admit . . . and I was speechless until I felt her teeth bite down on it.

"Ouch!" I yelled, pulling my finger out of her mouth and away from her. "What did you do that for?"

She ignored my question and darted a few steps away.

"Follow me," she said. "I'll let you use my phone to call for help."

This was a weird girl, I thought to myself. And she was a girl, she couldn't be any older than twenty-four. But what option did I have, I didn't see anywhere else I could call for help from, I didn't even see her place for that matter, but at least if I followed her I could use a phone.

"Hey, wait up," I called as I grabbed my jacket from the passenger seat on the left side of the car, locked the doors, and ran after her. I caught up with her about fifty feet down the road.

"My name's Gerald," I said. "Gerald Cohen, from New York."

"My name's Miriam," the blond girl said. "And I live just up ahead, around that bend."

"I was lucky you were out tonight," I said. "I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I need to be in London by eight tomorrow morning for a conference."

"I always go out for walks at night just after sundown," Miriam said. "It's always so peaceful out here at night."

That was the last thing we said to each other until we turned down a gravel drive, which must have been about two hundred yards long, and I saw we were walking towards a large stone house. It must have been two or three hundred years old and was three stories tall, four in places, with lots of windows and wings, and all the other architectural features one expects on those old English houses.

"My God, this is a big place," I said. "Do you live her by yourself?"

"No," Miriam said. "I share it with Sally."

Miriam and Sally, I thought to myself. I wondered if the roommate was as strange as this girl. I was almost afraid to ask of their relationship to each other.

"It's just the two of you in such a big place?" I said. "How do you manage?"

"We only use the rooms we need," Miriam said. "It's been in Sally's family for generations, and the property has been her family's since before records were kept."

That's one thing I had to credit the British with, they had a very long history and knew about it. Back home, history was measured in decades, the English measured in centuries.

The closer we got to the mansion, the larger it seemed. It had over a hundred rooms to it, maybe two hundred. The walls were overgrown with ivy and the grounds needed a good deal of upkeep. Back home, some prissy historical society would have screamed and hollered at such an old building in that condition. But over in England, it seemed, old buildings were a dime a dozen.

Miriam led me along the circular drive, beneath the portico, and up crooked steps to the two giant wooden doors with lion's head knockers on each.

"This is impressive," I said, stepping inside the large foyer and looking up at the balconies and chandelier above me, the tapestries and gigantic paintings on the wall, and the ancient furniture around the perimeter. Directly ahead was a massive grand staircase the led up to the second floor and, from their, two smaller stair cases on either side led up to the third floor.

At the top of the stairs, in a flowing blue and black dress, stood a second woman. This woman seemed older than Miriam, probably around thirty, and had brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders.

"Miriam, who is this you've brought with you," the woman, whom I presumed to be Sally, asked.

I removed my hat and said, "My name's Gerald Cohen, from New York, my car broke down and this lovely girl said I could use her phone and call for help."

"Of course," the second woman said as she started down the stairs. "My name is Sally, and this is my house. You are welcome to stay here as long as you require."

"Thank you," I said. No one back home would believe me. My car breaks down and I find myself in a large spooky mansion in the company of two beautiful women. Both porn and horror movies had plots like this.

"I don't want to impose on you," I said. "If you could show me to the phone, I'll make my call and then go back and wait by the car."

"You're hungry," Sally said.

"Yes I am," I replied, slightly confused and wondering how she could tell. The reason I missed dinner is so infuriating I don't feel like repeating it here.

"Miriam, why don't you show him to the parlor and entertain him while I fetch some food," Sally said.

"Of course," Miriam nodded politely. She took me by the arm, again with her cold touch, and led me through a gaping doorway and into a richly furnished, albeit slightly dusty, room with couches and chairs and thick cushions.

"I really don't want to impose," I said as Miriam led me to the couch.

"It's no imposition," she said. "We're quite glad to offer you some hospitality."

She sat down on the Persian rug covering the floor between the couch and the fireplace. She was leaning forward slightly, looking up at me, in a way that seemed to lower the neckline of her bodice and accentuate her cleavage. Her green eyes stared into me and Miriam barely blinked.

"You're quite a handsome man," Miriam said playfully.

"Thank you," I replied. "And you're a beautiful girl."

"Do you think so?" Miriam asked.

"I do," I said. "Very beautiful."

Miriam scooted across the floor and put her hand on my leg.

"I've never met an American man before," she said, sliding onto the couch next to me. Ordinarily I would have heard a little voice in the back of my head telling me to be careful and not take advantage of such a young girl, but somehow that voice disappeared into Miriam's unflinching gaze.

"What are American women like?" she asked.

"Certainly not as beautiful as English women," I said playfully, trying to figure out her game.

"Do they have hair like mine?" Miriam asked, taking my hand and running it through her blonde hair.

"No they don't."

"Do they have skin as soft as mine?" Miriam asked, placing my hand against her face.

"None of them do."

"And do they have breasts like mine?" She placed my hand onto her chest.

"Oh my," I gasped. This was getting interesting.

"Well?" she asked, almost impatiently.

"I, um, they," I stammered, unsure of what to do. Finally I said, "no they don't."

She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. Her lips were cold against mine, yet they drew me in. There was just something about Miriam that made me want to keep kissing her.

The rattling of metal drew me out of the trance I was under. I looked up to see Sally carrying a tray into the room. I snapped back to reality, unaware that I was caressing Miriam's breasts and had one of the hardest erections I'd ever had.

"I see you're making him feel welcomed," Sally said with a smile. "Please, Gerald, help yourself to whatever you like."

Spread out on the tray before me was an array of cookies and other sweets.

"This is quite a selection," I said, reaching for a piece of chocolate.

"Miriam and I both have a sweet tooth," Sally said, placing the tray on the floor in front of me and sitting down on the couch next to me.

Sally leaned over and started nibbling my ear.

"I'm quite glad you happened to come by tonight," she whispered.

"Why is that," I asked, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Miriam and I had been very lonely," Sally said. "We so wanted to meet someone new."

Miriam started kissing my neck and rubbing her hands on my chest.

"And you're such a handsome man," she said. "I know you have what we need."

Miriam reached down and began unbuckling my belt. Okay, I thought to myself. I'm alone with two beautiful women, horny as hell, and they're both kissing me. After everything else that had gone wrong for me in the prior few days, it was about time something good started to happen. Why shouldn't I indulge them? Why shouldn't I indulge myself? There were probably lots of reasons, but these captivating women made me forget them all.

Miriam's hand slid down into my pants and her fingers touched my erect manhood. She spread the fly of my pants open, exposing my sex, and slipped onto the floor between my legs. She licked the length of the shaft, circling her tongue around the tip before sealing her lips around it and gently sucking.

Sally kissed my neck as I ran my hand up and down her back. She sat up and slipped her dress off her shoulders, letting it fall to her waist and filling my field of view with her ample breasts. She placed her hand against my cheek, angled my head to face hers, and brought her lips down on mine.

My hands reached out for Sally's breasts, caressing them and playing with the nipples as they grew firm with my touch. She slipped off her dress, revealing that she wore nothing underneath, and knelt next to me nude. My hands moved from her breasts to her genitals, folding back her skin and reaching into her body.

Miriam continued sucking my member. She reached up and pulled my pants and boxers off without missing a beat. Sally unbuttoned my shirt and kissed my chest, sucking on my nipples. She sat up and straddled my chest, placing her breasts right before my face. I nursed on the nipples one at a time.

Miriam's lips released my sex and Sally slid her body down, slowly engulfing me. Miriam slipped out of her dress, she too had been wearing nothing underneath, and came beside me to kiss my neck. My palms grasped the firm cheeks of Sally's derriere as she bounced up and down. I thrust deeper into her as my fingers reached out to explore Miriam's body.

Miriam and Sally kissed and reached out to caress each other's breasts. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back as the pleasure built up inside of me. It was an explosion waiting to happen. The pressure built greater and greater. I couldn't contain myself anymore.

With my eyes closed, I felt two sets of lips press against my neck, kissing me. The explosion in my body came closer and closer. I wanted release and tried to let go, but something inside held back to make the climax more intense. Miriam and Sally kissed my neck, kissing hard and deep.

My orgasm exploded hard. My body was overwhelmed with pleasure and pain. I lost track of time and where I was. The room began to spin and I found I couldn't open my eyes when I tried. I was lost, drifting on a sea of physical sensations.

* * *

A tapping on the window brought me back to life. I was sitting in my car, behind the wheel fully dressed. I looked around and a policeman was standing outside in the light rain.

"Can I help you, sir?" The policeman asked.

"Oh yes, officer, my car broke down, I'm not sure what the problem is," I said.

"Did you call for a tow, sir?"

"I, I'm not sure," I said. I was still pretty confused and unsure of exactly what happened.

The policeman looked at me quizzically for a moment.

"I'll go radio for a tow just in case," he said before walking back to his patrol car.

I looked at my watch, it was slightly after midnight. I started to remember what happened, the blonde girl leading me to the mansion, her older friend, and . . . and . . . and then nothing. I didn't remember anything. It took some time before I recalled what happened that night.

"Someone is on their way, sir," the policeman said. I didn't notice him return. "He should be here in fifteen or twenty minutes."

"Thank you, officer," I said. He walked back to his car and drove off.

A short while later, the tow truck arrived and pulled me into town. A mechanic changed the battery (of all the stupid things to go wrong, it was a dead battery!) and I was on my way to London again.

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to living persons or actual events is entirely coincidental. This story may not be redistributed without permission from the author.