0 comments/ 34498 views/ 1 favorites The Last Night By: Funk You I lay in bed, wearing nothing but black satin boxer shorts. A thin white sheet covers my legs and is grasped in a bunch beneath my chin. The apartment is silent. I already feel alone, even though it is not yet time to say goodbye. Not yet time for him to abandon me and force me to find myself all over again. I was so close, and now he’s leaving, right when I need him the most. I stare at the wall in the almost pitch blackness. My eyes have become accustomed to the darkness. I feel as though I’m frozen in time and this feeling will never end. The pain is ongoing and I’m stuck, unable to control time and make it fast-forward to a period when I may be happy again, or rewind to when we were together – unrestricted, happy, and in love. My body is numb and I’m unable to move. I remember the tenderness of his caresses, the feel of his body close to mine. It was the most miraculous feeling in the world. But soon we will be apart for the first time in eight years. I can’t stand the thought of not being able to see or touch him every day. They all say I’ll live, that I’ll get over it, but I’m so scared I won’t. My life won’t have meaning without him in it. It won’t be worth going on. The door clicks open behind me and I see his shadowy figure projected onto the wall I had been staring at. He stands motionless, and I can feel him watching me as he leans against the doorframe. My breath shudders out of my body and I close my eyes to hold back the tears. He had previously thought I was asleep, but now he has seen my movement, and he enters the room. He sits down beside me on the bed and leans in to plant a soft kiss on the back of my neck. I shiver as he moves down, tickling feathery light kisses down my spine. I feel his tongue dart out and glide all the way back up to my neck and his hand slips onto my hip, caressing my sensitive skin. I know I should make him stop. It’ll just make it all the more painful to let him go when he leaves, but tonight will be our last night together – I have to make it last. He moves in behind me, stroking my stomach as he sucks lightly on my earlobe. I haven’t yet made a move, but I am so scared that if I do anything it will all be over too soon. His hands trace their way up to my cheek and he turns my face to his to brush his lips lightly against mine. I roll towards him and stroke his face, studying every tiny feature with both my fingers and my eyes. I look into his deep chocolate brown eyes and finally I can’t contain the emotion anymore and my eyes fill with tears. He moves in and simply hugs me. The sobs rack my body as he rubs my back. He kisses my cheek and I bury my face in his neck. He tries to pull back to look at me but I won’t let him; I won’t let go. I don’t want him to leave me. I need him. I want to punch him and kick him for what he is doing to me. I feel so much anger. How could he? But also I want him to hold me in his arms, kiss me and touch me and tell me that everything will be alright. I want him to love me. He tells me he does, and God, I want to believe him, but if he really did, why would he leave? “I love you Paul,” he whispers, and I cry more knowing that even though I don’t want to believe him, it’s true. I can’t answer. I don’t want to speak, just feel. I reach up and tangle my fingers in his silky dark hair, pushing him onto his back. He looks up at me and I see the same mixture of pain and desire that I am feeling in his eyes. I lean in and kiss him, our tongues instantly dancing together like lacy spiderwebs in the wind. He pulls me down on top of him, grazing his fingernails over my back, sending tremors through me. I run my hands all over his body and his breathing grows shallow as I unbutton his shirt and pull it off. I lean in and suck one of his nipples as I trail my fingertips slowly up and down his ribs. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply. I love the hardness of his body pressed against mine, but we are not yet close enough. Our remaining clothing is discarded and we study each other’s bodies with our tongues, lips and hands. I rock against him and he reaches up, pulls me down, kisses me. We move back and our eyes lock. His lips part as if to tell me something but no sound comes out. I know what he wants. I slide down his body and stroke the inside of his thighs. His hands find my head as I flick my tongue over his tip, closing my eyes as I take in his length. I can hear his breathing, harsh and ragged, his tiny moans, and God, it turns me on even more. I slide my fingers up the underside of his shaft and he cries out softly. I begin delving my fingers inside him as I carry him closer towards ecstasy with my mouth and tongue. He pulls me back up and kisses me as I slide into him. I groan as our bodies come alive with pleasure, joined to become a single being. We move together, our eyes finding each other’s and locking whenever our lips part, stroking each other as our pace quickens. Suddenly I am blind with pleasure. I see stars and my body takes over. I cry out as the intensity reaches an overwhelming peak and I can hear him yelling out my name as our bodies release our energy and emotion in a shuddering climax. The pleasure ebbs and our breathing slows. I see his face and move in to kiss him deeply, instantly re-igniting our tender passion. I withdraw from him and he rolls me over so our positions are reversed. He strokes me all over, his hands everywhere, tongue darting out every now and then, teeth grazing my skin. I am shaking and my eyes are closed as I let my body only feel. He caresses my skin lightly, running his fingers along my shaft, and I feel him pushing against me gently. I relax my muscles and feel him slide into me. I moan and he begins to thrust, his hands worshipping every part of my body. Our lovemaking is slow and intense, but it is all over too soon as he moves deeper inside me. I am blind once again as we call out each other’s names in the throes of our passionate union. We kiss and he begins to move away, but I wrap my arms and legs around him, holding him close. I want to prolong the feeling of him being inside me for as long as possible. He looks into my eyes and strokes my hair, kisses my face; my forehead, my nose, cheeks, chin, eyelids, lips. I can feel the tears growing in my eyes once more and I feel his own tears dampening my chest. Finally I allow him to release himself from my body. We curl up in each other’s arms and cry together until we fall asleep. I wake and my body is numb and tender. I reach out beside me and feel only cold sheets. My eyes open and I stare at the empty space. The bliss is gone and I feel hollow. He has really left me. I don’t want to believe it. I see the note sitting on the dressing table, my name written on the front in his handwriting. I stare at it for what seems like hours. I can’t open it. I know that if I read it that will make it final, and there will be no going back. I don’t want it to be over. I want to cry but the tears won’t come. I swing my legs off the bed and pull on my boxer shorts, then stand up and pad out to the kitchen. I make myself a cup of tea without thinking about it and sit down at the kitchen table. I hold the steaming hot cup in my hands but don’t drink from it. I stare into space, thinking about nothing. By the time I take a sip of the drink it is stone cold, and I throw the rest down the sink, rinse out the cup and sit it upside down on the draining rack. I stand still, gripping the bench in front of the sink, my eyes unfocussed. I don’t know what to do. There’s nothing worthwhile doing. Without him I feel devoid of anything. I don’t even feel the pain. My brain won’t accept the truth. I scuff my way back to the bedroom and sit down on the bed, my eyes automatically finding the note again. I stare at it until the sun begins to drop towards the horizon, and then finally I pick it up. I trace my finger over the lines of ink that mark my name. I know I have to do it. I take a deep breath and unfold the note. Paul, I love you. I’m sorry. Goodbye. Forever, Tim. It is short and simple, but it speaks of things only we could ever know. I feel the dampness on my chest again and look down with blurred vision to see my own tears dripping to my skin. I crumple the note slightly in my fingers as I curl up on my side on the bed, the tears finally expelling themselves from my body. He had been so good to me. He had been my one and only love, and now I’ve lost him. He’s gone. I hadn’t even told him I loved him. If I’d just told him how I felt maybe he would still be here. And I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I press the note to my lips. Salty tears drip onto the page, causing the ink to run. I stare at it as the words fade, disappearing forever. Finally I admit the truth to myself. “I love you Timmy, goodbye…” I whisper. It’s over. The Last Night Author's Note: This is my first story ever so be kind to me! I tried my best and I hope you enjoy! :) * Nights have always been lonely for me. Perhaps it's because I haven't had a boyfriend in over a year. Don't get me wrong! It's not because I'm not pretty enough or anything. Oh, I've had my fair share of boyfriends in the past. It's because of—Well, let me tell you my story. My name is Catherine Atmore and I've always been a bar lover. I have to admit with a tiny bit of conceit-filled pride that I am an attractive woman. A thin waist and large breasts can get you anywhere in life. That's why I wear low cut tops and very short skirts. I rarely have to buy my own drinks! I was on the top of my game that night. Little did I realize what a fool I was. It was the night I'll remember for the rest of my existence. It was on this foggy night that I decided to go to my favorite bar alone. My girlfriends bailed on me, yet again. Screw them, I thought, I'm a big girl, I can handle myself. I had just ordered my 6th cocktail when I felt eyes on me. Not an uncommon feeling for me usually, but this was different. A chill ran up my spine. I shrugged it off. 'You big dummy,' I told myself, 'you're in a bar, of course there would be eyes on you. This is no different than any other night.' I forgot the feeling as I concentrated on making the drunken geezer next to me think I was interested enough in him that he should buy me another drink. I had to give the old guy credit. He had more game than most of the younger guys who had tried to pick me up earlier in the evening. Not that I was even remotely thinking of going home with him. Ha! Fat chance. It was time to "excuse" myself to the bathroom. "Whew! These things go right through me" I say mirthfully, "If you will excuse me, I need to find the ladies room" He nods to me and tells me that he'll be waiting or something similar. I wasn't really paying attention. My mind was solely focused now. I ran on auto pilot. I'd spend five minutes in the bathroom, adjusting my make up or just standing around, and then I'd come out saying that I wasn't feeling too well and needed to go home. The older "gentlemen" are very sympathetic, which is why I try to end my night with one of the oldest men in the bar. Horrible, I know, but I don't spend a small fortune on drinks every time I go out. I've been doing it so long that I have it down to a science. It was in the cab on the ride home I felt the eyes on me for a second time. The chills returned and I started to get a little nervous. I remember pulling my arms close to my body, staring out the window into the night, and trying to convince myself that I must have caught a virus. I resolved to take some medicine and go straight to bed. The cab finally reached my apartment and I stepped out, giving the cab driver the fare. The only money I've spent all night, I told myself proudly. The thought cheered me up slightly and I made it up the six flights to my apartment door. The elevator was finally fixed, but I preferred the stairs. They kept me in shape. My apartment is not much, but it's home. It made me feel better instantly. 'Maybe I will take a shower after all.' I mused. Sleepily, I began to take off my clothing. The one thing I hate about bars is that no matter how hard I try I always come back smelling of Eau de Ashtray. I threw my clothes in the laundry and headed towards my bathroom. 'A nice hot shower is exactly what I need right now, then I will get in the bed and pass the hell o...What the hell was that?' Something had flitted across my peripheral vision. I turned. A bat! How had a bat gotten into my apartment? 'Great! This is just great! I'm going to have to spend the next half hour chasing this thing around my house!' "Come here you nasty thing! I don't want you here. You have to get out so I can go to sleep." I said to the bat. I didn't even have the energy to put effort into what I was saying much less than try to catch the thing. I'll just shut it in the laundry room and get it in the morning. Maybe it will be dead by then. As luck would have it, the laundry room is right where the bat flew to escape the big scary human. 'Alright, crisis averted; Bath time.' A few minutes later, I was lounging in the tub. The warm soothing water helped me forget about my animal intruder and the guilt that Bar Night always brought. You're going to hell for what you do, my conscience would tell me. 'You do what you can to survive in this city' was always my response. Not that drinking my liver to rot was, by any means, "surviving". You only live once right? "Shit..." the water had turned cold while my mental war had raged. "Well, I'm clean enough to sleep" I said to myself, which was true, except for the fact that my hair still smelled of cigar smoke. I stepped out of the tub and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror above my sink. Thanks to the combination of the cold bath water and cool air, my little bodily thermometers were standing proudly upon my breasts. I grabbed a towel to dry off and escape the chill in the air. I shivered. Damn, it shouldn't be this cold tonight. What is the air conditioner set on? Anxious to get into my warm bed, I hurried off back down the hall towards my bedroom, only stopping to throw my towel in the laundry out of habit. I heard a squeak overhead and cursed out loud. I had forgotten the bat, which was now flying back towards my head. Using my hands to shield my head, I ran naked into my bedroom and shut the door quickly. Adrenalin pumped through my body. I leaned my forehead against the door in defeat. "I'll never get to sleep..." I groaned. Turning around, I ran into something hard. I started to scream but it was cut off by a hand firmly clamped over my mouth. My hands came up to defend but were useless against the incredible strength my attacker had. Wide eyed, I looked up into his face. Dark eyes stared back at me from deep set sockets. He was unearthly pale. Every horror movie I'd ever seen popped into my head in an instant and my vision swam. He pushed me onto my bed, and I screamed against his hand. Before I had time to realize what was happening, he had my arms tied to the headboard. I fought him as best I could. Once, I felt my foot make contact and I heard him swear. "Fuck! That hurt bitch!" My heart caught. I had never heard someone curse so beautifully. His voice was deep and smooth, like something you'd hear in a cheesy romance movie. He grabbed my leg and I was jolted back into reality. "Do something like that again, and I'll rip your leg off" Something about the way he said it made me believe he could actually do just that. Still, I wasn't going to let him take me without a fight. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Leave me alone!" His response was almost a snarl. "Feisty aren't we. You should have thought about that earlier, you little cock tease. I saw you at that bar. You deserve what's coming to you." Shit. He was watching me? I've never seen this guy before in my life. "Oh, I know you don't know me, but I know you very well." He said. My pulse quickened. It's almost like he read my mind. "And what if I did" He grinned and his teeth shone in the moonlight that was pouring through my window. I stared in horror. His canines were long and sharp. "Wha..." I couldn't speak. "Wha... wha... wha..." He mocked. "I am something to be obeyed." His eyes pierced mine like knives and I felt my will bending before him. My terror melted into calm and I saw him in a new light. He was dashing! He had a face to match his voice. The eyes that had pierced mine were deep set and a brilliant blue. Dark hair fell loosely just about his shoulders. In that moment, he was everything I'd ever waited for. Such was the power of the Vampire. The moments that followed were the most humiliating of my long existence. Because of his glamour, I wanted to fuck him. Well, I was tied up, so I wanted him to fuck me. He wasn't going to make it easy on me, though. He thrust my leg to the side and crawled up onto the bed between my thighs. I could feel him lean down and rake his fangs slowly against the inner side of my thighs. My nipples, which were already erect, began to tingle. My breath came in short bursts. I had never been so aroused in my life. I had few partners despite my extended bar visits. With them, I was in control. Never had I been tied up and vulnerable like this. It was intoxicating. His mouth slid slowly upwards towards my, by now, very wet pussy. My pelvis rose to meet his mouth and I mentally begged him to suck me. He heard this of course, but kept me squirming, damn him. Slowly raking his sharp nails up my thighs, he trailed his tongue to circle my clit. My arms strained against their bindings, yearning to slide through his dark hair and push him into me. The ache was almost painful, yet he continued teasing, barely stimulating my clit. His nails traced the contours of my body up towards my breasts. My tingling nipples screamed to be relieved. Fangs soon followed the trail that his nails blazed. My body was on fire. His mouth finally found my left nipple as his left hand mirrored it's example on my right. I could feel my juices pour out of my aching sex. Just as soon as my pleasure began, he pulled back. I cried out in frustration and I heard him chuckle. "Say you want me. I want to hear you beg for me. " Cheeky bastard. "Please come satisfy me. I need you! Please fuck me like the slut I am." I said breathlessly, adding that last part mentally. I heard a zipper then a ruffling of cloth. Something ice cold covered my thighs and sent a shiver through my whole body. I looked down and saw what had to be the most gorgeous male body in existence. His upper body was pale and muscular, his lower body melted into shadow. I could feel his icy hardness pressing on my calf. He rested his head on my chest. "What are you doing?" I asked. "I'm listening to the delicious sound of your heart. Buh Dum. Buh Dum." On my calf, I could feel his member pulsing to the rhythm of my heart beat. An image of it inside me flitted across my mind and I moaned. His head slid up my chest and I felt his gaze come to rest on the pulsing vein on my neck. He slowly moved his hands up to grab my breasts. His hardness pulsed on my thigh now. My sex pulsed in harmony with his. My breath again sped up. I felt his fangs poised over my jugular, but I didn't care because something else was positioned to enter another sensitive spot of mine. Both entered at the same time. The mixture of pain and please was exquisite. My pussy rose to meet him as he pushed inside of me, my lips parting in a loud moan. I pulled against my bonds and he actually moaned against my neck. He was using one hand to softly tease my right nipple and the other to finger my clit as he plunged in and out of me. Each stroke set of blasts of pleasure throughout my body. I could feel my orgasm rising and I cried out. He fucked me hard as he drank his fill. The room spun. As I reached my climax, my blood was finally drained and with the intense wave of pleasure came a most definite death.