Authors: Piquette Fontaine
Chapter Five
Mr. Clean instructed them to go to the Haserot angel. Truth was that Shana felt about as good taking her family to the spot of her most extreme sensual experience as she did drinking a ketchup milkshake. There was a chance that something would come over her and she would start masturbating right then and there, with no regard for who else was around. Minor consolation could be taken in the fact that it was something of a tit for tat with seeing Suze and Nate fucking on the dining room table the night prior. But no, that was barely consolation at all.
It's amazing how tragedy can make any day feel cold and cloudy. In fact, it was a perfect spring day in Lake View Cemetery, and the sunlight warmed the trio's hair and flesh as they sat in front of the angel, waiting for, well... they didn't know what. Yet all they could feel was cold rising from the corpses, the chilling breeze that gave the backs of their necks goosepimples whenever it blew. Dazed from the chicken and pleased to be doing anything but sulk back home, they sat placidly in a triangle, doing what some would call meditating.
There was a rustling from the woods, and they all innately dismissed it as some sort of animal. But a human cough sounded soon after, a puny, weak cough which perked all ears up. Suze, of course, recognizes that cough as if it were her own and began fervently turning her head in every direction, looking for the direction where it came from.
The cough sounded again, and when the three oriented themselves towards its direction, they saw the boy stumble out of the woods. He was still in his Sunday best, but by now it was not at all the best. The tie was severed, as if by scissors and the blazer had a hole in one elbow. His pants were dirty, crumpled, as if he had been sleeping in them on the ground for the past few days. Nate ran towards the boy and picked him up to give him a wet kiss on the cheek.
“Daddy, it's ok for you to kiss me even though I'm a boy and you're a boy because I missed you.” Nate, the big softie, sobbed on the spot. Suze sandwiched the boy between herself and her husband with a long embrace. The parents uttered nothing for they had nothing to say. They closed eyes and rocked with the boy back and forth, back and forth.
Luke pointed at Shana and went, “Aunt Shana has a bruise on her eye!” That's when Suze noticed that a bandage was wrapped around Luke's index finger, with one digit missing.
She turned around to see a figure staring from the very point in the woods where Luke stumbled out of. Her maternal instincts kicked in and she charged. Once the figure realized what was happening, it started to run away, but Suze was just in too good shape to let the man who severed her son's finger get away. She pulled a maneuver that you really only see in pro wrestling rings: a running jump which led to her wrapping her body around this person's upper half, the momentum of which pinned him to the ground. She laid waste to the guy, alternating punches between his head and his gut until he was too battered, too winded to even move. She got up and ran back to her boy.
“Get in the fucking car! Now!”
Suze, Nate, and Luke ran to the car. Shana did not.
“Shana, get in this car or I swear I will personally crucify you on one of these cross-shaped gravestones. I will!”
Both Luke and Nate were in a state of shock, seeing Suze turn into whatever person this was.
“Suze, I need to go see someone.”
“Get in the car!”
“No.”
“Get in the fucking car!”
“I'm going to see...”
Suze understood. She looked over to the woods to see if the figure had stirred. He had not. “Well, get there quick, before that ape wakes up.”
Shana nodded. “I'll call you soon. Bye Luke.” She waved at her nephew, who was in a total daze.
He still waved back as the car pulled away.
Shana wandered over to the figure that Suze attacked. It was Mr. Clean. His eyes were open, and he was in fact fully alert. Shana thanked him and offered a hand to help him up.
“I will get up off the ground when I know that woman has driven far away. I do not need that again.”
“I said thank you.”
“I did my duty. Leave me to lie here.” And she did.
As always, Baker's tomb was easy to find. Shana wasn't quite sure what she wanted out of him. When she thought of that fleshy patch, she was in fact reviled by his very existence. But Tom was in her past and she didn't really know what her future held. She sat 100 yards from his tomb until it was totally dark out. He emerged with some tools to work on his truck. When she approached, he was tuning something up.
“Baker.”
He turned around and looked away in embarrassment nearly the second he saw her.
She walked up to the truck and leaned against the front of it, just inches away from him. She looked insistently at the vampire's face. He went back to work with his wrench, pretending she wasn't there. She continued to stare.
Still averting his gaze, Baker said, “please leave.”
“No.”
“Please, now.”
“No.”
Shana was bad at following the program today.
He finally looked at her. “What do you want from me?”
“I don't know.”
He shook his head and got back to work.
Finally, “I guess I just want to talk. I always like talking to you.”
He continued, putting more energy into fixing his truck than dealing with Shana. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Anything. I don't know. Tell me a story about what it was like here during the Civil War.”
“The Civil War? They didn't fight that in Cleveland.”
“Yeah, but just what it was like here during that time period. Were there runaway slaves? Did any of them turn into, well, creatures like...”
He smiled at her. “Let's walk.”
And they did. They wandered around the cemetery and let the conversation guide them, as opposed to the other way around. Just like when she was a teen, they found themselves perched against a grave hours later, deep in some pseudo-philosophical discussion that no one in the rest of the world could care about. And as things always went, they found themselves kissing under that very moonlight, perched against a headstone. Something made it more tender than usual, with them stealing one another's breath each time their tongues touched. Baker's lips, as always, were cold and dry. Shana's as always plump and warm. Time slipped away from them during conversation, but absolutely evaporated during kissing.
Shana began rubbing that long-dead skin that was stretched taught over the vampire's subtly chiseled torso. She loved to traced the parabola in his ribcage, to draw a grid with her finger on his abs. He whispered some forgotten language into her ear while blowing cold wind through her hair.
And before she knew it, Baker had disrobed her and they were laying on their sides. He massaged her back and shoulders, kissing her cheek from behind and rubbing the top part of his thigh against her vagina. She loved to be embraced from the back, with the spring's raw evening air tingling her front. She guided Baker's hand to her breast, and when he clawed at his, she growled like an animal deep in heat.
She reached for his cold cock and found nothing. “You don't need that anymore.”
“But,” she gasped and paused, reveling in the vampires touch, his tactile tour of every skin inch, “but I love it.”
He simply breathed behind her ear then slid down her back, kissing the contour of her spine all the way down. He nibbled on the flesh of her butt, then spread the cheeks to tease the hole with the tip of his tongue. No one had ever done that to her before, and she never imagined that it could be such a quiet, profound sensation. As he continued, he played with her labia, rubbing and plying clumps of pubic hair. She chuckled in between gasps and moans. Soon his thumb found its way inside of her and the top of his paw to her clit as he continued to lick her from behind. It was exquisite. When she closed her eyes, new colors burst against the silver screen of her eyelids, and when she opened them, the leaves on the trees swirled and shimmered in a psychedelic projection of her ecstasy.
The vampire crawled back up until his head touched hers and she turned her face to kiss him. He continued to touch her as they made out for minutes and then she turned her head away from him to expose her neck, grinning a possessed grin. He opened his mouth and positioned his teeth above her jugular.
The End
About the author:
Piquette Fontaine presently resides in Western Canada with her husband and one year old son. She is a French teacher by trade, but her passion is to spend endless hours writing about the paranormal and erotica. She relishes in sharing her sexy, thrilling stories with adult readers. She also loves to travel the world, and has visited so many wonderful cultures.
http://www.amazon.com/Piquette-Fontaine/e/B00O0HQ4SQ
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