5 comments/ 33735 views/ 1 favorites Candy From Strangers By: YourLittleAngelle Leaves scuttled across the damp pavement as if they too were hurrying to their own predetermined affairs regardless of their own desires. Claudia hunched further into her black hooded sweatshirt, her eyes scanning the street for approaching children. She'd been accosted thrice already by rug rats looking for candy, and she thought she might just snap if another clown, faerie, or superhero came calling. Usually, she liked this time of year. In fact, Halloween had been one of her favorite holidays since she was a child. But this year was different. She was on the verge of failing her freshman year at university, and her parents were furious with what they saw as her laziness and party girl attitude. In truth, the only partying she did was with nerds and geeks, because nerds and geeks were helpful. But Christ, could they party with the best of them. It had come as a surprise to her in the beginning, but the engineers in the group often made experimental and wonderful bongs, while the chemistry majors made the most aesthetically amazing drinks. If she didn't understand a problem in her statistics class, she could call Laurel or Tamara up and get an immediate answer. Geoffrey, the guy she met in basic programming, had fallen hard for her, and she knew if she were ever in a technical bind, she could promise him pizza and a snuggle, and he'd be sure to help out. Another aspect of her unhappiness was the hard realization that she would never be one of the typical Midwestern Girls that populated the part of the country where she'd grown up. She'd escaped high school and gone off to the bigger world of higher learning hoping to find more girls like herself. Instead, she was met with the older ranks of prototypical blondes in the college town, who were clearly defined and heartily appreciated by the men. She knew she could never dream of fitting in with the more popular girls, no matter the bleach she bought and pinks she added to her wardrobe. She wasn't sporty, like the tanned girls with their golden bobs, practical frosted pink nails, weekend camping trips, and beer addictions. Nor was she arctically beautiful and unattainable like the more rare natural blondes. Nor was she quite trashy enough to run with the bottle blondes that arrived from the wrong side of the tracks to pledge sororities and chase footballers. She was dark of hair and eye, curvy and solid, and she definitely was not perky, even during her best moments and hopped up on Starbucks. She knew she was attractive to certain kinds of boys, but none of them really seemed to have their shit together. But with her own crowd, she was never the odd one out, because there were plenty of odd ones who could easily commiserate with her situation for various reasons. The chill autumn air pried its way down the front of her sweatshirt and passed her tiny tank top beneath it like the determined fingers of an ardent lover, and she quickened her step as her nipples stiffened under the gusty onslaught. Laurel's house wasn't too much farther, and the sooner she arrived, the sooner she could leave. How she regretted being so polite and accommodating sometimes! It had cost her many opportunities to get in the last bitchy and insulting word, and now, it was going to cost her a decent Halloween. The night would suck, and nothing she could do would change that. Laurel lived on a winding street in one of the more historic neighborhoods. Like a lot of the other brainy girls in their class, she came from money. A great deal of it. But her parents hadn't indulged her every caprice like some of the other rich kids. They had used their endless means to encourage a love of learning, and Laurel had a wealth of knowledge and a decadent desire for information that could never be satiated. Instead of spending summers on the east coast, the Oliviers spent weeks in Italy, touring the ancient ruins and marveling at the decrepit architecture in the old cities. They went to France to stay with relatives and tour museums and vineyards, rather than spending endless days on the Riviera beaches or attending Cannes parties. Laurel's first treasured and costly gift had been a top-of-the-line telescope when she was four, so she and her father could stargaze and plot the solar system from their backyard. She had been content to spend hours in the library instead of perfecting her look in the mirror, and had never known the ennui and tension Claudia felt concerning dating. When she had invited Claudia over for a night of movies, drinking, and plain old company, Claudia had been tempted to refuse. But one look in Laurel's stunning azure eyes and she had been hard pressed to say no. Laurel also informed her that one of her male cousins from France would be visiting, and Claudia's hopes of salvaging the night had been permanently dashed. The language barrier, chaste interests of her friend, and her politeness would ruin the evening for certain. Finally reaching the cobblestone drive to Laurel's huge house, Claudia heaved a sigh of resignation, then passed under the wrought iron arch and marched up the front walk as the prisoner to the gallows. She spied the warm glow of lamplight through the bay window off the den and saw Laurel bound out of an enormous armchair and then heard her feet as she ran to open the door even before Claudia's fingers had closed around the brass knocker. "Hi!" Laurel's smile was radiant. She took Claudia's hand and pulled her in, offering a friendly hug as she reached for the girl's sweatshirt. Beneath it, Claudia wore a spaghetti strap tank top, and she felt a little risqué in such attire surrounded by the opulent and tastefully decorated house. "Come in! Dinner's almost ready!" The tantalizing aroma of cooking meat, onion, and garlic filled the foyer, and as Laurel took her by the elbow and pulled her toward the kitchen, Claudia's stomach covetously growled. "Yves! She's here!" Laurel exclaimed, tugging Laurel around a corner into the thoroughly modern kitchen. Whatever Claudia had expected Laurel's cousin to look like was completely different than who stood before her. The man was fucking gorgeous! "Hello," Yves smiled, extending one long, pale hand. He was painfully handsome in an almost delicate way, and Claudia wondered at the similarities between the cousins. Both had the same shade of blue eyes, both were delicately built, and both were quite easy on the eye. But Yves possessed a confidence and casual warmth that dwarfed Laurel's chirpy personality and somewhat fidgety manner. "I'm Yves. And you?" His English wasn't flawless, but really quite good. "Claudia Morris." She extended a hand, and Yves took it delicately, pressing his lips to her curled fingertips before releasing it with a squeeze. "What are you cooking? It smells wonderful." "Rabbit braised in merlot with asparagus," Yves said nonchalantly, as if Claudia were used to such a dish every day of the week. "And a cherry clafoutis to follow." Offering a soft smile, he turned back to the pans over which he presided, and Laurel lead her friend away. "He's a magnificent cook," she whispered in Claudia's ear. "Whenever he comes to visit, I think I gain five pounds! Come on. Let's go in the media room and pick out what to watch." The media room was what would have passed for an extremely well-appointed living room in an average upper class home, but which appeared as casual as an old, cramped, dusty den in the Olivier household. A huge plasma television, various gaming systems, shelves of CDs and DVDs, and a computer were all arranged amid half a dozen pieces of cushy leather furniture. Laurel strode to the bar and immediately began to fix drinks, returning in short order with a glass of limoncello on the rocks for each of them. She settled back on the same sectional as Claudia and began flipping through a meticulously categorized catalog of movies in a leather binder, a corresponding number beside each to indicate their position in the player. "Re-Animator!" Laurel chuckled, taking a long sip of her drink. "That will be perfect right before dinner!" Dinner was served about halfway through the film in the formal dining room. The three sat at one end of the large three-leaf dining table, dining by candlelight with something Baroque playing through the excellent wireless speakers installed throughout the house. Claudia was thoroughly impressed with Yves's cooking, and the girls did a fair bit more than pick at their entrees while Yves took a few bites here and there but mostly appraised their dinner guest with an enigmatic expression. There were a few interruptions from trick or treaters, and Yves and Laurel happily handed out two piece gourmet candy collections to each child from a large box on a nearby accent table. After dinner and dessert, they returned to the media room and the disturbing comedy concerning the mad doctor and his ghastly experiments. Laurel began to giggle during some of the more graphic scenes while helping herself to more citrus liqueur. Yves merely watched the movie with a modicum of amusement until he left the room for a while, and then returned with a large rectangular box covered in green paper with a lovely black floral pattern. Laurel glanced over at what he held as he seated himself on the sofa between the girls, and her eyes widened as her lips pursed. "Yves, I thought you weren't going to bring those damned things here again." "Settle yourself, chérie. We want to have a party tonight, and we shall!" With a flourish, he pulled the top off the box, and Claudia leaned in to see what lay inside. She was close enough to feel the brush of Yves's sleeve against her bare shoulder and catch a hint of his cologne. It was unfamiliar yet pleasant. It suited its wearer, being aloof yet provocative, very refined and with a strong touch of iris. The strong intermingled aroma of chocolate and anis emanating from within the box caused her to wrinkle her nose, and she backed up, unable to get past the intense smell. There, nestled in black plastic compartments, were row upon row of chocolate truffles. Laurel's expression grew more irritated, and she quickly refilled her glass. "What are they?" Claudia hesitated a second, then moved in for a closer look. Each piece of candy was oval-shaped, and engraved on each was a delicate fairy in mid-flight. "La Fée Vert Truffles. Our grandfathers made them for decades," Laurel explained. Claudia's eyes widened, and she gingerly reached over Yves's lap to pick a candy up from the tray. Sniffing the confection with both curiosity and trepidation, she moved it to her mouth, not believing what she had just heard. "No!" Laurel dove across her cousin's lap to knock the treat back into the box. Sighing with resignation, Laurel got to her feet and left the room. While she was gone, Claudia studied Yves, who was intentionally not looking in her direction. "Are they really made with absinthe? They're just candy. I've had tons of rum and liqueur filled candies with no problems." "Yes. My grandfather is a friend with a Swiss absinthe maker who went underground during the ban. They found it was a clever way to still sell the absinthe without being caught. And when he made friends with a very good chocolatier, it just went from there." "Wow." For the first time that evening, Claudia was truly interested in what the future might hold at this gathering. She didn't believe all the Hollywood hype concerning the mysterious jade green beverage, but she loved chocolates, and anything would be better than getting drunk and watching silly horror movies. Laurel returned with a pitcher of ice water, crystal tumblers, a dessert bowl, and a spoon. The bowl was heaped high with a fine white powder, and she put the items down on the coffee table with a resigned sigh, barely avoiding dropping a glass tucked beneath her left elbow in the process. "Ooh! Laurel, have you been holding out on me all this time, or what? Are you dating Tony Montana?" Laurel, puzzled by Claudia's statement, only offered her a wide-open and innocent gaze. "You know. Scarface! Say hello to my little friend? Don't tell me you ... No, of course not. Anyway. What is that?" "Sugar. We'll need it." "Allow me." Yves picked up the bowl, took a spoonful of the confectioner's sugar, delicately spooning some into his mouth, then hurriedly replaced the bowl and grabbed a truffle. Closing his eyes, he popped the chocolate into his mouth, chewed, grimaced, and swallowed. "You see? Easy as that. Now Laurel," he practically purred, leaning close to his cousin's ear and tickling her cheek. "Don't be an infante. You go next." A tense look passed between the two, and Claudia turned her eyes to the movie, trying to act as if she wasn't intrigued. Laurel leaned close to her cousin, whispering something in a venomous tone. Yves laughed and then ruffled the girl's hair before reaching for the bowl once more. And though it was quick, Claudia could have sworn he squeezed Laurel's right breast. But Laurel didn't blush. She merely poured herself some water and contemplated the placid surface of the liquid in her glass. "Grandfather can't sell these here because of the thujone content," Laurel explained, picking up a truffle and taking the proffered spoon from Yves. "The quality of the cacao is excellent, which makes the chocolate a little bitter, so the sugar helps. It also tames the herbs a bit." She closed her eyes, downed the sugar and candy, and chased it with a hearty swig of water, then sighed, flopping back against the sofa. "Your turn, Claudia the Brave." Yves was flipping through the movie list, apparently bored with the current selection. Claudia reached for the bowl and box, a flicker of excitement coloring her cheeks as Yves courteously poured her a glass of water and held it for her as she readied herself. "God, Laurel. Lighten up. It's just candy, and it's Halloween. I'm not a lightweight. I can hold my alcohol." The velvety spoonful of sugar on her tongue immediately began to melt. Claudia popped the chocolate into her mouth and bit down, closing her eyes to savor the experience. An extremely intense burst of herbal liquid flooded her mouth, mingling with the shattered slivers of smooth chocolate, and she grimaced at the strength of both flavors in her mouth, blindly putting out a hand as Yves pressed the glass into her questing fingers. Raising it to her lips, she gratefully swallowed the cool water, her eyes tearing at the burn that blazed down her throat. "Fuck," she choked, taking another long drink. Laurel squirmed a bit, glancing at the next movie Yves had selected. Yves patted Claudia's arm, offering an understanding smile. "It's different, nés pas? You get used to it, and they're quite delicious. Grandfather has customers from all over the world." "I love this part!" Laurel exclaimed. On the screen, a red-haired Lucy Westenra was thrashing about in bed, awaiting the final fatal visit of her nocturnal lover. "It's so gross!" Somehow, an hour had passed, and the first layer of the truffles had been depleted between the three of them. Claudia wasn't sure precisely how time had passed so quickly. And she wasn't sure if it was the lemon-flavored alcohol or the gourmet candies, but she was really drunk, despite indulging in such a heavy meal. She owned a copy of this movie and didn't recall it being so vivid and voluptuous as it seemed to her now. She regretted the need to use the ladies room for fear she'd miss some of the film, not certain of the location of the nearest bathroom in such a huge house. "Laurel?" Laurel and Yves were at the bar, engaged in a playful argument about whether Midori actually counted as real alcohol. "Yeah?" Laurel whirled toward Claudia, her eyes glittering and her hair a soft golden cloud around her rosy cheeks. "Um, I need to use your bathroom." "Oh sure!" Laurel put down the bottle she held, practically dancing across the room to grab her friend's hand. "It's this way, silly! Don't you remember?" They traversed a few dim hallways before Laurel flipped a switch to illuminate a small yet lavishly decorated bathroom. "Can you find your way back or should I drop bread crumbs?" Leaning against the doorframe, Claudia offered a confident smile. "I'm fine, smart ass." Laurel nodded, turned and disappeared back toward the media room. To be completely honest, Claudia didn't feel fine—she felt fantastic. This was turning out to be a halfway decent Halloween, even if it wasn't at a huge party with costumes and mysterious vats of almost lethally potent alcohol. Claudia gazed into the mirror at her reflection, noting the slight ruddiness in her cheeks, the glint in her hazel eyes, and, most obvious over all else, her nipples poking through her tank top. She padded across the mauve carpeting to the toilet, unfastened her jeans, and slipped her tiny black panties down to relieve herself, amazed at how clear-headed she felt even though she knew she was quite drunk. As she finished in the bathroom, flipping off the tulip-shaped crystal sconces that flanked the oval mirror, she ran right into Yves. "Laurel had to go upstairs and asked me to help you find your way back." In the near dark of the hall, his eyes were almost sapphire blue. When he extended a hand to take her elbow, Claudia reached for his hand instead. Off in the distance, the movie played on. But here in the hall, it was only the two of them, and his hand was warm in hers. It must have been something on her face or a furtive look in her eye, for Yves suddenly caught her by the shoulder and their lips collided in a mutual, ravishing kiss. The cool surface of the wall buffeted by Claudia's hair tried to bring her back to reality, but her arms were around his neck and his tongue was feverishly exploring her mouth. Her breath escaped her nose in hot little puffs against his cheek as she pressed her tits against his well-muscled chest. "Come on," Claudia urged, taking one of Yves's hands and pressing it roughly against her denim-covered crotch. "In here." She tugged him toward the dark bathroom. They didn't even bother to close the door before Yves had her pants down around her hips and an expert hand beneath the elastic leg band of her panties. Fearing she'd collapse in a swoon, Claudia gripped the edge of the sink with both hands as they kissed, and Yves brought her dangerously close to coming by rubbing her clit with light yet rapid strokes. The kiss was broken as he dove for her breasts, tugging her top up over them to hungrily suckle her nipples. Her hips thrust as his hands and tongue brought out warm prickles of gooseflesh all over her body. "Fuck me, baby," she moaned. She arched her back and rested her head against the mirror. "Please..." The sensations were all becoming too intense. The warm throbbing and clenching of her pussy, the slickness it exuded which Yves was using with great expertise, the pull of his teeth on her right nipple, and the chilly edge of the basin against her lower back were all vying for her attention. But the sudden explosion of her orgasm obliterated all else. She was so overtaken she almost fell. His arms were around her waist, holding her close enough for her to feel the stabbing pressure of his erect cock against her torso. "We must go back," he managed, helping her put her clothes right and taking her arm to guide her back to Laurel and the movie. Somehow, she found herself sitting on the sectional again, her limoncello in one hand and another candy in the other. Laurel sat beside her, and Yves beside Laurel. Claudia's legs felt like rubber, and her mind was racing. No, she hadn't imagined it. Her friend's foreign cousin had just fingered her in the bathroom, and it had been fucking remarkable! How was she supposed to pay attention to anything else tonight except how to get his cock inside her? Candy From Strangers "You pick the next one," Laurel decided, thrusting the book toward Claudia. Faced with no other alternative (she simply couldn't put the truffle back in the box) she stuffed the chocolate into her mouth, chased it with the lemon alcohol, then grabbed the book to rifle through the list of movies. In short order, the credits of Dracula had been replaced by Bauhaus and the unforgettable introduction of The Hunger. Laurel dimmed the lights and all three settled back in mutual anticipation of a movie they could all agree upon. Small details captured Claudia's eye. From the media room's intricate crown molding to the way Catherine Deneuve's eyes seemed to hide a caged and feral tiger as she and David Bowie stalked their prey in the atmospheric thriller. When she turned to grab another candy, the light playing off Yves's hair mesmerized her into staring longer than she should. It looked to be several shades of gold, from tarnished to brilliant, and his subtle sideways glance in her direction confirmed that he was watching her as well. While he held her gaze, he deliberately took his left hand and placed it on Laurel's thigh. Laurel simply gazed at the television, her eyes heavy with too much drink and not enough activity. Seeing Claudia's eyes widen, he only cocked a beautifully arched brow, giving Laurel's thigh a squeeze before returning his hands to his lap and his attention to the screen ahead. Claudia hiked up her jeans and tried to clear her head. All she could think about was the cousins and their hypnotic blue eyes. Laurel with her aloof sensuality and Yves with his overt desires. They were captivating, and she couldn't help but feel as if she'd only scratched the surface of their eccentricities. Splashing some cool water on her face, she flicked the lights off and stepped out of the bathroom once again. Mildly disappointed that Yves didn't capture her in a rib-shattering embrace and haul her back in, she wobbled back into the media room, which was now lit only by the glow of the television. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she came up short, almost walking into a moment she was clearly not meant to disturb. They were laying on the sectional, Yves on top and Laurel on the bottom, and their lips were joined in a passionate kiss, Laurel's fingers in Yves's hair, his hands thrust up beneath her lavender sweater. Claudia hesitated, uncertain how to proceed. Should she go back to the bathroom and make more of a production of opening the door, turning out the light, and staggering back to them? Should she creep in and take a seat elsewhere? She wanted another drink and a few more truffles. Before she could make up her mind however, Yves very deliberately looked up to meet her eye, offering that same arrogant and catlike smile. "Come here, Claudia." She offered only a moment's hesitation before doing as he'd asked, kicking off her shoes along the way since stocking feet just felt more appropriate for the intimate setting she was about to enter. "Another chocolate, chérie?" Yves was at her side, proffering the box before she could even get close to the table. And as he removed one of the rich candies, his eyes captured hers while he pushed the sweet between her parted lips. "Laurel and I, we've been this close for years. She played naïve with me for a while, but we both knew it would happen. We French Oliviers indulge our appetites more than the American branch of the family." The heady burst of absinthe and chocolate was a welcome taste in Claudia's mouth, for it had gone so dry that she couldn't speak, even if she wanted to or knew what she should say. Yves guided her to stand over Laurel, who lay apparently passed out, though she had seemed alert only a few moments earlier. What appeared to be a large hickey blossomed beneath her left ear, but the shadows were so profuse and the angle so bad that Claudia couldn't be certain of what she was seeing. Warm hands slipped around her waist and cupped her full bosom. She began to tremble, her head spinning and her eyes fixed on Laurel's face as the hands slid beneath her shirt, squeezing her bare breasts as his lips settled against her neck. This time, she did swoon, and she fell back into his embrace. Laurel's eyes opened briefly. Within them, Claudia thought she saw concern and dismay, but they soon closed again, and the look was gone. Cool air wrapped around Claudia's torso like silk, and when she felt her ass make contact with the carpet, she knew her desire for Yves's cock would be fulfilled. He knelt beside her, his figure in silhouette against the television screen, his hands going to work on her jeans. Next went her panties, and as he peeled each of her socks away, he showered the tip of each toe with delicate kisses that sent her heart pounding. Claudia closed her eyes, unable to believe what was about to happen. She heard movement beside her and caught a strong whiff of his cologne. He was undoubtedly undressing. While her libido applauded this, her heavily hindered rational mind was voicing objections. He was a rich brat who saw no problem with fucking his cousin, or, for that matter, his cousin's best friend while Laurel lay right next to them? She surmised that even if Laurel had been awake and alert, Yves wouldn't be dissuaded from what he wanted. That had been made very clear by the blatant way he went about groping and handling his cousin. But there was something deliciously dirty about getting fucked with the chance of discovery. Even if Laurel was approximately ten sheets to the wind and oblivious to their actions. Claudia's eyes opened just in time to see Yves rise to his knees, then straddle her shoulders, his desire clear as his very erect cock pointed directly at her face. It was of an average length, but very broad and almost ghostly pale in the low light. Without a word, she reached up, grasped his buttocks, and drew him forward into the wet suction of her eager mouth. The taste of him was exquisite. She could taste a hint of soap mingled with the subtle flavor of his secretions, and it was an addictive flavor. He was absolutely silent, but the slow and steady thrust of his hips told her that he was enjoying himself. She drew back and forth over his length, occasionally tightening her lips to pull him entirely out of her mouth with a satisfying pop, his glans glistening with her saliva and his own pre-come. She wanted to take all of him, wanted to bury her nose in his golden nest of pubic hair. Wanted his balls to slap against her chin. But there was one small problem. She had never gotten a man's cock down her throat, and the last time she'd tried, she had been forced to lean over the edge of the bed and throw up the three slices of pizza and four beers she'd downed before they'd gotten started, only seconds from hitting her awkwardly understanding partner. She was afraid, but also eager to get past her fear. When his cock nudged at her lips, she opened her mouth to accept it, her hands caressing his narrow hips and muscular backside. She opened her eyes, knowing how much eye contact was valued during such an intimate act. Yves met her eyes with that clear blue gaze, and she forgot about everything. Forgot about her almost debilitating gag reflex. Forgot about Laurel lying nearly comatose a mere three feet away. All she thought about was pleasing Yves. Making his features change from that cool façade to a genuine configuration of ecstasy. The first time his cock-head nudged against her throat, her mouth watered and she tried to panic, but she couldn't. All she could do was stare back into Yves's eyes as he pushed her a little more with each thrust. "Yes, Claudia," he purred, reaching down to stroke her cheek with his fingertips. "Now." With a brute shove and soft smile, he forced the head of his cock down her throat. But instead of ejecting her dinner as she'd feared, Claudia only longed for him to go deeper. Her tongue lapped the smooth, delicious skin of his cock, and his pendulous sac gently banged at her chin as he fucked her mouth, all the while maintaining eye contact. "Swallow, pretty girl," he breathed, and suddenly the organ in her mouth throbbed and warm sticky fluid poured down her throat. She swallowed with ease, sucking every last drop from him as he slid out of her throat. The instant his cock slipped from between her lips, Claudia's mind whirled. She felt as if a glass of ice water had been dumped on her brain, and she began to shudder violently from head to toe as she turned her attention to the screen. That did not improve matters. One of the most famous lesbian scenes on film assailed her, and she turned her face back toward her lover, who was now appraising her as if longing to know precisely what she was thinking. The way he handled his orgasm was unbelievable. He took it like a seasoned porn veteran, his gaze never leaving hers, his eyes vibrant and focused the entire time. Something about it gnawed at her, but she wasn't able to place it. The moment his lips closed over her left breast, all her concerns abandoned her, to be rapidly replaced with excruciating pleasure. "What are you doing," she moaned, more to herself than Yves, who only chuckled softly as his weight settled on top of her. Every nerve in her body seemed to be alight. She felt the soft cushion of the carpet against her back, bottom, and legs. Felt the soft down of his arms against her sides, and most acutely felt the hot length of his already erect cock against her thigh as his lips released her nipple to burn a trail down her torso, inciting a hungry fire between her thighs. Strong fingertips caressed the trimmed thatch of hair over her mound, and when he blew a warm breath over her slick inner lips, she shuddered in disconcerted anticipation. Yves's tongue flicked out, going directly for her clitoris, and she winced, unable to recover from this sensation before he hungrily burrowed into her vagina, fingers and tongue penetrating, rubbing, teasing, and driving breaths from her lips in a locomotion of gasps and panting, her body tense, her thigh muscles tightening against his shoulders. A building pressure inside her vagina combined with sure sucking of her clit brought her to a silent, hard, messy orgasm, and at the height of her bliss, a small prick of pain from her left labia told her that he'd bitten her. What a kinky bastard! Rather than being put off by the gesture, she was aroused. Exhilarated at what was to come. Yves sat up, taking Claudia in his arms and embracing her as he did, his lips seeking hers as his cock pressed hot and hard against her hip. His kiss was slow, deliberate, and tinged with the metallic edge of her own blood. One hand squeezed her left breast, pausing to flick her nipple before returning to gentle pressure. He pulled his lips away, took her chin in his fingertips, and turned her head toward Laurel, whose eyes were open and a little glazed. "Come join us, Laurel." Without hesitation, Laurel sat up, rubbed her eyes briefly, and began to strip out of her clothes. As she shrugged out of her sweater and wriggled out of the charming cream-colored lace brassiere, Claudia caught a glimpse of something dark against the left side of her throat in the vicinity of the possible love bite. When Laurel bent to unfasten her pants, her wheat-colored tresses obscured the distraction, but upon standing up to shove down her pants, Claudia saw it in plain sight and her eyes widened. A dried rivulet of blood decorated the blonde's fair throat, and the cause of the bleeding appeared to be a pair of bruised punctures. From just inches from her left ear, Yves's voice came in a silken whisper. "Ah. The other family secret. I see you've noticed Laurel's neck." Cold anxiety was stealing over her warm afterglow, and without thinking, Claudia plunged a hand into her lap to rub the place where Yves had bitten her, her fingertips coming back smeared with a fine streak of crimson. "What the hell!" "The truffles were his idea," Laurel sighed, her tone redolent with resignation. "I told him he could have me if he'd leave you alone. This isn't your life, Claudia. I didn't know he was going to do this to you, too." She softly added as an afterthought, "I thought the truffles would make it easier for me when I had to swallow—" "Do what to me?" Claudia tried to keep the shrill panic out of her question. Yves's hand was between her thighs, those maddeningly skilled fingers distracting her with irresistible sensations. She didn't know what to say. What to do. Claudia closed her eyes, unable to discern where reality stopped and dreams began, her body on fire and his touch fanning the flame. "Make you one of us. It's expressly forbidden to bite an innocent human unless you're going to feed or..." Laurel looked at her long dainty fingers, fumbling for the right words. "Dispatch the one you've bitten. But Yves wanted you from the moment he saw you. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen." "She worries so much, like a silly little goose," Yves's arms tightened around Claudia's waist as his lips played along the curve of her left earlobe. "Laurel is always following rules. I have to start all the fun with her." "I hardly call being fucked by your cousin when you're barely in junior high fun." Laurel snapped, her eyes pinioning Yves with blazing fury. "Mother told you to leave me alone. She wanted me to have a normal life, but you and Father couldn't have that. You've always been jealous..." Yves spat something in French at Laurel, who started to her feet. "Sit down!" he barked, and though the volume hadn't increased, the tone was chilling. Laurel sat. "Now it's All Hallows Eve, and we are going to have a fine time. Laurel, if you don't stop being so unpleasant, I shall leave you out. Do you want that?" Laurel's eyes lowered and she contemplated her knees, slowly shaking her head. "I need to go to the ladies' room." Claudia's head pounded and she felt as if she might be sick. "I don't know what you two are playing at, but your sense of humor sucks." Laurel followed Claudia as she stumbled down the hall. Yves reclined back against the sofa, picked up Claudia's drink, and took a slow sip as he watched the film. "What is this, Laurel?" Claudia's voice was bordering on hysterical as she slammed the door behind them. "What the fuck have you done?" "I didn't want you to know. I tried to fight it for as long as I could." Laurel gazed forlorn into the mirror, her expression haunted. "Father told me what ran in our family when I was twelve. Shortly after, Yves attacked me while we were staying with them in France. He's wanted to make me one of them since that night in the barn when he forced himself on me, but Father heard me screaming and came to help before Yves was able to finish. Yves has spent the last seven years convincing Father of his contrition and that it wouldn't happen again, and I've spent the last seven years fending off his secret advances. He knows I won't hesitate to tell my parents if he gets out of line, but I don't know what's gotten into him tonight. "Father said that Mother tried to keep the truth about our family a secret and hoped I'd never find out. I mean we were odd, but aren't all rich families? But it all made sense, and I told him I didn't want it. Mother conceived me before Father bit her, so I had the option of growing up typical and dying like everyone else." She turned to face her friend, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I'd never seen Yves the way he was with you tonight. He usually ignores every other girl but me, but it was clear that he saw something in you. He knew I knew, and he said that if I let him have me, he'd leave you alone. But he lied. He's got us both." "This isn't happening." Claudia stumbled toward the toilet, clutching her belly. Laurel went after her, the two embracing as they shook like leaves. "We had garlic for dinner, for God's sake, and I can see your reflection in the mirror—" "Old wives' tales," Laurel murmured, kissing Claudia's brow. "Yves loves going out during the day even though it hurts his eyes. He gets a perverse thrill out of bucking convention. The only absolute is that we need to ... to feed." "But I didn't bite him ... I didn't draw blood ... Isn't that how it's supposed to work?" "No. You did more than that." Laurel paused, her expression somber as she held her friend. "You swallowed, and then he bit you. The exchange was complete." "Oh God..." Laurel caught Claudia's chin, her eyes meeting the brunette's. Claudia felt her muscles immediately relax. She tried to break the gaze, but wasn't able. "Don't fight me on this, Claudia. Just go with whatever happens, and we'll sort it out later, okay? Now let's get back before Yves gets suspicious." They entered the large media room to find Yves still nude, beckoning to them from the other entrance. Laurel took Claudia's hand, and they followed him across the darkened hall and through to the salon, then up the broad stairs and into a sumptuously decorated bedroom. "Here we are," Yves smiled, closing the door behind them. "And we have a new member of the family. My Claudia." Claudia frowned, stepping back. "Yes, yes. You're upset. But don't be. Laurel is so gloomy. It's quite fun being what we are." "You've got a demented idea of fun," Claudia muttered, glancing at Laurel for moral support. Her friend only offered a glance that asked for total trust, and then stepped forward to embrace her cousin. "You're right." Laurel said. Her lips traveled upward to Yves's jaw, and she nibbled playfully as his hands reached back to capture her perky bottom. "We're supposed to be having fun tonight, and I'm feeling pretty good thanks to Grandfather's truffles. Let's stop fighting." Yves smiled satisfactorily, taking the girl's hands and pulling her up onto the immense bed with its burgundy duvet and ornately carved bedposts. Claudia, uncertain of what was really going on, went meekly to sit at the foot of the bed as Laurel capitulated to her cousin's every whim. "It is so much better when I don't have to force you," Yves breathed as he flung Laurel onto her back. She mewed like a kitten, wrapping her long legs around his narrow ass and drawing him in deeper. Cold was stealing over Claudia's flesh. Her head throbbed, and she felt as if the room had dropped twenty degrees. Yet in the pit of her stomach, a heat more scalding than anything produced by alcohol was blooming. A second but more needy fire was burning deep within her throbbing channel, and she knew that she could do nothing to quench either. She wasn't feeling like herself. She felt a strange new hunger. An appetite that couldn't be sated by mere food and drink or any common lover. She craved blood and fucking. Watching Laurel, one would never suppose she was the most quiet and bookish girl in her class. One would also never suppose her first sexual experience had not been mutually desired, or that the assailant was the one she was now riding with tireless vigor. A power shift was occurring between the cousins, and Claudia felt herself drawn inexorably closer as Yves's own gaze showed the first signs of drifting. He was transfixed beneath Laurel, and when Claudia stretched out beside him so she could see her, she understood why. Every inch of Laurel exuded sex. Her tits, though petite, were perfectly proportioned, with areola that weren't too large or small. Her waist was narrow, and to Claudia's surprise, her pubis was totally free of hair. But the most sensual aspect was her eyes. Where Yves had an ability to calm and lull his intended target into a state of catatonia, Laurel's gaze whipped the blood to a frenzy. The bliss she experienced was transparent in those fathomless oceanic depths, and the slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth would have melted an average man. Candy From Strangers "You really are a good fuck, Yves," Laurel confessed breathily, her hips lingering on the down stroke and grinding against his in a way that made his lids flutter. "I've had plenty of boys since you, but your cock is fabulous." She arched her back and increased her speed, glancing down at Claudia, who lay numb on the bed beside them. "Yves loves it if you sit on his face. Come on, Claudia." She extended a hand, and Claudia took it as if in a dream. She got to her knees, feeling one of Yves's hands as he helped her straddle his face. He lowered her ass to him while her mouth sought Laurel's in a frantic kiss. Whatever I am, Claudia mused as she felt the hot length of Yves's tongue slip inside her, I'm going to make the most of tonight, until they commit me tomorrow morning. His hands parted her ass cheeks and his tongue traveled upward to lap at the tiny rosebud of her asshole. Her tongue swirled with Laurel's as the girls took hold of each other for support, and the first piercing sting as Laurel bit Claudia's tongue was almost a welcome bit of pain, the taste of her own blood fueling the fire between her thighs. Soft muffled moans came from Yves as he licked and fingered Claudia into orgasm after orgasm. She watched Laurel's pretty pussy engulf his cock again and again, and each time her hips lifted, the glistening rivulets of her juices seemed to be increasing to leave glimmering drops in his golden floss. The bounce of Laurel's tits was captivating, and Claudia found herself unable to resist leaning forward, capturing her right nipple, and sinking her teeth into the soft flesh in her mouth. She was rewarded by the coppery sweet taste of blood and a throaty groan from her victim. Laurel caught Claudia by the shoulders, pulling her lips away as twin ruby droplets of blood dripped from the puncture she'd made. Claudia greedily poked out her tongue to steal one as she got to her knees, feeling the gentle probe of a fingertip against her virgin anus. So distracted was she by this alien feeling that she glanced up just in time to see Laurel lunge toward her breasts, teeth bared. A razor sharp pain shot from her left breast, only to be immediately muted by another orgasm. Blood spattered onto Yves's chest, and he let out a lusty moan, flinging Claudia off and tackling his cousin to hungrily lap the blood from her chin. She fell against him, her arms gripping him tightly as she sank her teeth into his shoulder. "Mon dieu!" Yves cried as she suckled the wound with all the ferocity of a starving infant. "Laurel ... stop ... I'm going ... to come—" Though he tried to throw her off, Laurel clung to him with impossible tenacity, her hips still embracing his, her cunt holding his cock in a vise-like squeeze, her mouth still clamped to his shoulder. He was gasping in pleasure and pain, his body trembling in her grip as he flopped across the foot of the bed. Darker red droplets mingled with pearls of semen and vaginal nectar upon the duvet as Claudia caught her breath, watching the pair's progress across the bed. Yves was crimson beneath his cousin, his breath coming in great panting rasps as she fucked him with an ever-increasing frenzy. And then she arched her back, her hands wrapping about one of the ornate bed posts as her eyes closed, her limbs going tense as she bore down on him while she came, her moans becoming rapturous cries. Claudia's eyes squeezed shut as she plunged a hand between her legs, fingering herself into high-pitched paroxysms of pleasure. The orgasms hit one after another like waves. By the time she heard the strange splintering sound and felt a warm splash against her cheeks, it was too late to interfere. She opened her eyes and saw the scene through a red haze, blood running down her face and coating her lashes like ghoulish mascara. "How does that feel, you son of a bitch!" Laurel still sat astride Yves, his cock still buried to the balls in her soaked vagina. However, the more interesting projection was the three feet of bedpost that impaled Yves's chest, and his flailing arms that tried to pull it free. With surprising agility, Laurel slipped off his cock and wrapped herself around the post, laughing and grinding against it in a grotesque burlesque as a sickening crunch and squelch accompanied her movements. And Yves went still, his eyes open in comic shock, yet vacant and unseeing. Laurel whimpered in delight as she came once more, fell away from the post, which gleamed with a smear of her juices. "Laurel, what the hell—" Claudia's stomach gave a lurch and she hurriedly closed her eyes, knowing that the clammy wetness all over her body wasn't just perspiration. "I've set us free," Laurel panted, her own breathing labored and irregular. "He's dead. I've avenged us for what we've become." The water around their feet finally ran clear as the women stood under the shower in Laurel's room. They had held one another for a long while, unable to speak, both incapable of deciding where to go, either mentally or physically. "If he remained alive," Laurel finally sniffed, and Claudia realized she was crying, "we would have been his forever. I couldn't do that. He deserved this for what he did to me. To us." They clung together under the warm cascade of the water, kissing each other gently and washing the wounds they had inflicted on one another, which were already healing far more rapidly than they should. "My bites..." Claudia gazed down at her breast, then placed the fingertips of her left hand on her labia where Yves had bitten her. "If you've freed us, why are my bites healing so fast?" "I've freed us. I haven't cured us," Laurel said wanly, unable to meet Claudia's gaze. "There is no cure. Only death. Either ours or that of others so we can live." Laurel gave the letter one more read through and then backed away from the desk in the guest room. In it, she wrote of a terrible fight with Yves, his fleeing in disgust, and her abrupt departure to think things over. They had cleaned the room, wrapping Yves up in the duvet and tossing him in the back of Laurel's Mercedes along with any other incriminating evidence, including the illegal box of truffles. Laurel said she didn't mind if the entire French line of the family was brought down, but she didn't want things to look too suspicious, and noted that it was only Yves' immediate family with whom she held a grudge, having nothing but kind memories of her grandfather and other aunts and uncles. Though she did admit that she would love to know who corrupted her family and introduced this terrible sickness into the bloodline. They would finish out the semester at college. Then the plan was to travel someplace large and anonymous to start a new life together. Whether as friends or lovers, they weren't certain, but they were linked together by one basic primal need and one unforgettable night, and no amount of distance would obliterate that. "Let's sleep at your place," Laurel said as they left her house to dispose of what they could and plan what would be done with the rest. "I just want to go to sleep." "Right. Happy fucking Halloween." Laurel offered a wry smile. "Well at least you'll always have a convincing costume idea should you want to use it." The Mercedes sped off into the night, and the two strikingly beautiful women were remembered and puzzled over almost as much as the mysterious disappearances that seemed to spring up where ever they settled. But surely such nice, quiet girls could have nothing to do with mysterious disappearances and the odd, bizarre murder? There is one well-known rule one should heed, particularly if a chance encounter should lead one to cross paths with the stunning duo with the bashful smiles and casual invitation to share their company. Never accept candy from strangers. Finis