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I held back and watched my lover stalk his prey. There was no mistaking Gabriel for anything other than a predator. Tall and lean with a catlike grace, he moved silently through the darkness waiting patiently for the furtive young man he followed to wander far enough into the shadows to be taken.

We followed him silently for several blocks before he paused at the edge of a circle of light cast by a street lamp. He was only several feet from the entrance to an alley. and He withdrew something from his pocket to examine it in the dim light, and Gabriel flanked him like a panther circling it’s prey as it prepared to strike.

Moving so quickly that I was barely able to follow, Gabriel swept him off his feet and carried him deep into the alley where light did not penetrate. His victim didn’t have time to cry out and barely began to struggle. Hurrying after him, I took a deep breath inhaling the scent of fear and blood and felt the familiar rush of excitement as I watched my love begin to feed.

As Gabriel fed, drawing the young man’s soul from the center of his being, I pressed myself against his back. One hand went to my lover’s throat to feel the movement as he swallowed, the other slid around his waist and down over his flat stomach to fondle the growing bulge beneath his tightly fitting trousers. I knew that it was my touch and the thrill of my excitement, not the act of eating this boy’s soul, that aroused him.

I felt Gabriel jerk, his every muscle tensing, at the same moment that I heard his victim’s heart stutter to a stop and I wondered what he’d taken from the young man that had caused his body’s violent reaction. Before I could ask he turned to me, his hands gripping my upper arms hard enough to have caused pain were I still human, and shoved me against the rough brick wall of the building on south side of the alley.

Surprised by his action, I laughed. He grinned wolfishly and captured my lips with his. I opened my mouth and accepted his tongue, tasting his victim’s blood as I swirled mine around his. With his mouth pressed against mine he fumbled with the closures on his pants and pushed them down far enough to free his straining cock before he pushed my dress up around my waist.

He dropped to his knees pulling me down to straddle his lap and I felt his hand pushing the crotch of my panties aside. I lifted myself and closed my fingers around the shaft of his massive cock, stroking him several times before guiding him to the tight opening of my dripping vagina.

The bulbous head of his prick split the lips of my cunt as I allowed gravity to impale me on the length of his thick rod. Gabriel groaned as he leaned back. Supporting his weight on his arms behind him he lifted his hips to push into me as deeply as he could. His head fell back on his shoulders, his eyes closed, he remained as still as a marble statue.

My hands on his shoulders, I began to ride him slowly up and down. I savored the feel of his huge cock as I lifted myself to slide down on him over and over. I could feel every vein running along the length of his shaft as his girth filled and stretched me. My breathing quickened as I felt the familiar tension mounting in the pit of my stomach.

Gabriel’s head snapped up, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His arms closed around me, one hand at the small of my back, the other cupping the back of my neck. He laid me back supporting my weight on his arms as he began to thrust into me faster. I wrapped my legs around him and pressed my fists firmly against my lower abdomen.

“Gabriel!” I gasped as my body tensed.

He grunted and I felt his semen explode into my clenching vagina. He pushed deeply into my rippling pussy and emptied his testicles as I came hard. He lifted me and held me tightly against his body, his slowly wilting cock still deeply imbedded inside my trembling body. I laid against his chest wanting to stay connected to him as long as I could.

He kissed the top of my head and gently lifted me off his nearly flaccid cock. “You thirst, too, love,” he said softly.

I did feel hunger. I rose to my feet and straightened my clothing. Gabriel stood and refastened his trousers. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply before taking my hand to lead me back to the street.

At the entrance of the alley the slip of paper that my lover’s victim had dropped caught my attention. I picked it up and and looked at what was written on it. I knew the address. Frowning, I looked around and realized that Gabriel’s prey had led us into an area of the city with which I was very familiar.

I drew a deep breath through my nose. Like a slap in the face, realization suddenly struck me. I darted back into the alley and rolled the man lying on the ground onto his back and started rifling through his pockets. In one pocket I found a thick roll of bills and a switchblade knife. The knife I discarded, the money I handed to Gabriel. I stuck my hand into his other pocket. Nothing. I opened the leather jacket and felt the lining. Finding the little bulge I was seeking. I dug my fingers into that pocket and extracted the small plastic bags of coarse brownish powder.

I rose to my feet and left the alley. Turning left when I reached the sidewalk, I headed back in the direction from which we had come. Gabriel stayed at my side matching his long legged stride to my quick steps. He didn’t question me about our destination. He recognized my resolve even if my purpose remained a mystery to him. Perhaps he had recognized the neighborhood, too. It had been a favorite haunt of his for weeks after his fortuitous encounter with Henri.

I slowed as we approached the house, my hand trailing along the wrought iron fence. I stared at the dark windows that looked out over the street. The house looked vacant, though I knew it was not. I lifted the latch on the gate. It swung open silently and I started up the walk to the porch.

Gabriel laid his hand gently on my arm. His blue eyes shone with concern. “Love,” he said softly, “come away.”

I shrugged his hand off and continued to the front door. I heard him sigh just behind me as I bent down and tipped the planter by the door to retrieve the key hidden under it. The click of the dead bolt sounded loud in the stillness of night. I paused and looked over my shoulder at Gabriel. His eyes pleaded with me as he shook his head slowly. I turned the brass knob and pushed open the heavy oak door with its leaded glass window.

The house was oppressively hot and I wondered for a moment why the air conditioner wasn’t running. I could see perfectly well in the darkness, but I didn’t crave shadows the way my lover did. I reached out and flipped the switch by the door. Nothing happened.

Henri had been taking care of the household accounts since my father had died seven years before. Of course my hapless mother hadn’t paid the utility bill. I doubted now that she had even managed to keep herself fed in the weeks that I had been gone. She was still alive, though. Somewhere in the darkness above me I could hear a human heart beating.

As I started up the stairs Gabriel wrapped his arms around me from behind and pressed the side of his beautiful face between my shoulder blades. “Evangeline,” he pleaded again with a hint of desperation creeping into his voice, “come away, my love.”

For a moment I stayed in his strong arms drawing on the soundness of his love for me. I knew it wasn’t the anticipation of an encounter with my drug sick mother that caused him such consternation. It was Henri’s ghost, the memories of all the things I had endured at my uncle’s hands, that caused his anxiety.

I squared my shoulders with a determination that I no longer felt and started to pull away from him. His sigh was more of a soft groan as his hands loosed their grip and his arms dropped to his sides. I continued slowly up the stairs. Gabriel followed a step behind me.

I paused at the top of the staircase, swaying uncertainly for a moment before I turned away from my mother’s room. I crossed the hallway to the door of what had been my room when I lived in this house. When I had lived. I pushed the door open. The hinge creaked.

That sound brought a rush of memories and flooded me with emotion. I had been eight the first time Henri had pushed the door to my room open causing that eerie moan. Still crying every night over the recent loss of my father, I had naively thought that my uncle, a man I had barely known existed before my father’s death, was coming to comfort me.

He had sat down on the side of my bed and gathered my slight body into his arms to rock me while I cried. He had gently stroked my hair and cooed comforting words against my ear. I remembered curling my tiny fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt and clinging to him as he murmured that he was going to take care of me now and that I was his little girl.

He had laid me down on the bed and pushed my nightgown up until it was bunched under my arms. His hands were incredibly gentle as he had removed my little white cotton panties. I had tried to cover myself with my hands, crossing them over the smooth, hairless mound at the apex of my thin thighs.

Henri had smiled reassuringly as he lifted my hands. “You must never hide your beauty from me, Evangeline,” he had told me.

Had I had the experience to recognize it I would have seen the lust shining in his dark eyes. I squirmed under his uncomfortably intense gaze as his eyes ran over my immature body. He had reached out with his too soft hands and caressed the tiny bumps on my chest, his thumbs circling my petal pink nipples.

I remembered squeezing my thighs tightly together as his light touched caused an unfamiliar tingling between my legs. I had been aware that his breathing had quickened as his hands moved down over my childish body. My own breathing had been as rapid as my uncle’s.

He had let his fingertips trace the contours of my little belly to my boyish hips and down my thighs. He had paused for a moment before sliding his hands between my knees to gently spread my legs. I had blushed as his gaze fixed on the slit of my prepubescent cunt.

He had used his thumbs to part the outer lips and I heard his low moan as he looked lovingly at my tiny pussy. “Oh, ma jolie catin,” he had breathed as he bent down between my trembling thighs. “Such a beautiful cocotte.”

I had jumped when he pressed a kiss to the tender pink flesh his prying thumbs had exposed. When his warm tongue had begun to caress my nether regions my body had stiffened in protest, my little hands flew to push ineffectually against his head. He ignored my efforts and mumbled words of adoration and promised devotion into my petite body.

When his lips had closed over the miniscule bud of my clitoris I had cried out in surprise. I had never felt anything quite as pleasurable as my uncle insistently nursing that little button. My hands that had been trying to thrust his mouth way from my most private area now clutched at his hair to hold his face against my quivering cunt.

I remembered feeling an unfamiliar pressure against my pelvic floor and the way my back had arched as Henri’s finger had invaded my virgin pussy that first time. He had placed his hand firmly on my stomach to hold me down while he had thrust his finger in and out. I had felt his spit fall into the folds between my thighs as he had continued to saw his finger in and out.

My little hands had groped between my legs finding his wrist and trying to stop his harsh invasion of my body. He had laughed unpleasantly and withdrawn his finger abruptly. I had cowered on the bed as he had stood and quickly removed his clothing. I had stared in shock at his long, thin penis. It stood erect, it’s angry red head pointing toward the wall above my bed. He had roughly pulled my night gown over my head before he grasped my knees and jerked me onto my back again.

I had whimpered in fear as his hands pressed my knees up and apart to spread me open for him. Keeping his hands on the inside of thighs he had leaned over me, the menacing protrusion waving and bobbing as he moved, a clear drop of viscous ooze hung on a spider web fine line from the small eye on its tip.

He had spit in his hand twice and rubbed it over the end of his frightening appendage before his hand guided the end to the opening between my legs. The sensation of pressure I had felt when he’d probed my little cunt with his finger returned and I tried to twist away from him.

He had delivered a stinging slap to the tender flesh of my inner thigh and my legs jerked straight dislodging his burrowing penis. He had grasped my upper arms and shaken me till my head was spinning before dropping me onto the bed to pummel my body with his fists. All the air had left my body with a whooshing sound when he’d struck my stomach just below my sternum.

His hands had closed around my throat cutting off my breath. I remembered my body bucking wildly, my fingers clawing at his hands as I had struggled to free myself from his suffocating grasp. My vision had started to dim when he suddenly released me, allowing me to draw a ragged breath.

He had leaned down to place his lips close to my ear. “You breathe because I allow you to, ma petite enfant,” he had growled harshly, his bourbon scented breath stirring my hair. “You live because I allow it.”

Even at the age of eight I had understood that my uncle had complete control over me and that this cruel man was going to use me as he desired. I had quickly grasped the fact that I was nothing, insignificant to him, and if I fought him he would end my life without qualm. My tears had dried on my cheeks and I let my body go limp as I stared blankly at some point over his shoulder.

Henri had patted my hip, his hands gentle again, and then turned my body so that my bottom was at the edge of my bed with my legs hanging down. He had lifted my legs, his hands on the backs of my thighs, and pressed my knees to my shoulders. He laid his arm across the back of my legs and sucked on the forefinger of his free hand.

I had winced as he shoved the finger into my defenseless little pussy, but there was no fight left in me. I had detached myself from what was happening to my body, my mind wandered to a time when my father was still living and had sat on this bed with his arm around me as he read to me till I had fallen asleep.

My uncle removed his finger. “Hold your legs up for me,” he had ordered as he rose to stand by my bed.

I had obeyed, wrapping my hands around the backs of my knees to hold my legs where he had placed them. Henri had leaned over me, one arm braced on the bed by my head, he fisted his hard cock, stroking it quickly for a few moments before guiding the head to the opening of my vagina.

I had grimaced, grunting in pain as the head of his prick had split me open and pushed into my tight, dry cunt. He had withdrawn a little and thrust hard scooting my body forward as he tried to force more of his rampant cock into me. His hands had closed over my shoulders pushing me back toward him as he bent his knees and thrust his cock into my tortured cunt.

The pain from from his unwelcome intrusion had been exquisite. I remembered a sudden sensation of tearing and a searing agony that spread from my raw vagina into my belly and, unable to help myself, I had allowed a keening wail to escape my lips. My uncle had slapped me hard on my face, snapping my head violently to the side.

“Tuat t'en grosse bueche, putain,” he had hissed without pausing.

His cock had begun to make a wet, sucking sound as he had continued to violate my young body. He was grunting as he slammed into my tightly stretched and bleeding cunt faster and faster. Mercifully my consciousness had faded and I floated away.

When I had come to again, Henri was sitting on the edge of my bed with me straddling his lap. He had held me tightly against his belly and rocked me gently. I had been aware that he was still firmly lodged in my swollen pussy, though he felt different to me now.

“Ma jolie catin,” he had cooed softly to me, “mi aime jou.”

I had squirmed in his arms wanting his flaccid penis out of my body. As I moved against him I had felt something warm, wet, and sticky squelching around his tightly embedded cock. He had twitched and flexed inside me and my despair had risen along with his tormenting prick.

I shook myself, tearing my mind away from memories of Henri, and turned into Gabriel’s waiting arms. He pulled me in to hold me tightly against his lean, hard body and I knew he was offering me a way to exorcize my uncle’s ghost. I slid my hands over his shoulders and raised up onto my toes to reach his lips. He lifted me bringing my face level with his and pressed his mouth to mine, kissing me fiercely.

Without me being aware he had moved across the room, he set me carefully on my bed. I watched as he removed his clothing and let them fall to the floor. When he stood before me naked, his huge cock rising proudly from the profusion of red curls at the juncture of his thighs, I leaned forward and wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft to stroke him.

I took the head of his prick into my mouth to run my tongue over the velvety softness. His hands closed over the sides of my head and he thrust into my mouth. I began to bob my head up and down taking more and more of his beautiful cock into my mouth with each downward stroke until I felt the head prodding the back of my throat. I grasped his firm buttocks and pushed down until his balls swung against my chin and the coarse hair at the base of his massive penis tickled my nose. Being able to practically swallow him was one of the advantages of not having to breath.

Gabriel groaned loudly as my tongue undulated against the underside of his prick. I raised my head to plunge down, deep throating him again. He grunted and lifted my head pulling his cock out of my mouth. His hands were rough as he lifted the hem of my dress and pulled it off over my head.

He fell to his knees and laid his head in my lap. I stroked his silky hair. After a moment he lifted his head and gazed up at me before his eyes moved down to my breasts as his hands pulled at my panties. I laid down and lifted my hips to allow him to remove them. He held the cum soaked crotch to his nose and breathed deeply before dropping them on top of his clothes.

I reached for him and he came willingly into my arms. I pulled my knees up and he pushed into me gently, settling immediately into a slow, steady rhythm. I caressed his cheek an stroked his hair, my eyes fixed on his beautiful face as he fucked me so tenderly that I could have wept at the sweetness of it.

He gazed down at me adoringly as he thrust into me. I rock my hips in time with his, grinding against his pelvis when he buried his full length in my wet cunt. He twined his fingers with mine, resting just enough of his weight on his forearms to avoid crushing me, but allowing me to feel every inch of his body lying on mine.

He began to breathe harder. He didn’t need to breathe, but my lover was a very sensual being and I knew that the scent of sex enhance the experience for him. I also knew that Gabriel was struggling to maintain the control he was exhibiting. I could feel the tension low in my belly as my orgasm began to build and, though the sweet, slow loving making was transcending euphoric, I needed more now.

I ran my finger tips lightly down his spine and felt him shiver. “Gabriel,” I moaned against his ear. “Fuck me.”

Something feral lit his eyes as he pulled my hands down to my shoulders and pushed up, his fingers still twined with mine, and thrust into me hard, his tempo increasing. He was watching my face intently and I held his gaze, my lips parting as I began to breathe as rapidly as him. His exquisite strokes lengthened as he drove his huge cock into me.

I arched my back and pushed up against him, wanting to feel him as deeply inside me as I possibly could. The delicious tension in my lower abdomen broke and the cresting wave of pleasure came crashing down on me. I gasped his name as his hands gripped my waist and he pushed himself into my rippling cunt. I could feel him swell and throb as he groaned loudly and erupted into my body.

I held him tightly in my arms and clenched the muscles in my vagina rhythmically on his pulsing cock to milk every last drop from his balls. I reveled in the feel of his body pressing me down onto the mattress. His breathing calmed, but tremors still wracked his muscular frame as I traced slow circles on his skin.

I moaned my protest when he separated his spent body from mine and rolled to lie beside me holding me tightly in his arms. I could tell he was lost in thought and I wondered if he was still puzzling over the reasons his body had begun to react to mine in ways to which he was unaccustomed. I stroked his cheek and smiled softly.

“What are you thinking, cher?” I asked.

He sighed and shook his head.

I wasn’t ready to let it go. “Tell me,” I pleaded quietly.

His eyes searched mine and then he kissed me lightly. “How could you have loved him?” he finally asked.

I sighed. “It was what he wanted from me. Love . . . adoration. If I hadn’t given him everything he wanted I wouldn’t have survived.”

He thought about my answer for a moment before pressing his lips to mine again. “I will do anything for you. If it were what you wanted, I’d even let you go,” he said with a quiet fierceness. “I love you more than I would ever have imagined possible, but I demand nothing from you.”

“That, my love,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck, “is why I’ll give you everything.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Gabriel stood just inside the door of my mother’s room leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. I could sense his disdain for the frail woman lying on the bed. His hostility toward her rolled off of him in cold waves.

Standing by the bed, I made a mental inventory of the paraphernalia on the dusty night stand. The candle burning there, the latex tourniquet, three syringes. I picked up the spoon, its bowl bent at an odd angle. I laid it back down and wiped my hand on my dress.

I sat down on the bed beside her and she stirred and opened her eyes. I’m not sure that in her drug induced state she recognized me at first. She shrunk away from my touch.

“Mama,” I said gently, “it’s me.”

She struggled to sit up. “Evangeline?” she croaked.

“Yes, Mama,” I said looking over my shoulder at Gabriel. He straightened away from the wall and came to stand behind me looking down at my mother.

“Where have you been? You’ve been gone for days,” my mother whined.

It had been weeks since Gabriel had carried me from this house. Weeks since he had taken me for his lover. Weeks since he had made me his forever. I had been missing for weeks without my mother having reported it.

My hands curled into fists. “This is Gabriel, Mama. I live with him, now.”

“There’s no one here to help me,” she said pathetically. “Where has Henri gone?”

“Henri is dead,” I said, my voice emotionless.

“Dead,” she said leaning back against the headboard of her bed. “Yes. I remember.”

I reached out to smooth her limp hair back from her face. My fingers traced the contours of her throat and I felt Gabriel’s body tense. I leaned toward my mother and his hand shot out to close around my arm.

“Don’t,” he said. “She’s an addict. The soul is polluted. It’s eaten away by her habit”

“And yet the body lives,” I said gently disengaging his fingers. “She’s found her own way into the half light. It would be cruel to let her live like this.”

“Then let me do it,” he said lifting me to my feet.

I cupped his face between my hands and brought his lips to mine. He crushed me against him as my lips parted and my tongue pushed against his. The sweetness of his mouth made me sigh. The fierceness of his kiss stole my breath.

Gabriel broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine. He didn’t speak, but I could feel his concern for me. I pulled away and turned back toward my mother. She still leaned against the headboard, her chin resting on her chest, oblivious now to what was going on around her.

I placed one knee on the mattress then looked over my shoulder at my love. He refused to meet my gaze, his eyes down turned. I turned back to my mother and laid my head against her breast seeking some kind of affirmation that she was still the mother that had loved me when I was small. Her arms stayed limp at her sides.

I looked up at her. I could remember when she had been beautiful and traces of that former beauty still haunted her gaunt face. Her black hair, once lustrous, now hung limp and dull. The green eyes that had been clear and sparkling with easy laughter were clouded with her opium poppy dreams.

I leaned against her and pushed her slight body down to the bed. Lying over her I closed my eyes and sank my fangs into her sinewy neck. She didn’t struggle as I began to feed on her. I could taste the bitter alkaline of the heroin in her blood, but the flavor of her wasted soul was worse.

I was flooded with the memories of her childhood, with the visions of her life with my father, and with her joy at my birth. I was washed in the love and laughter that I myself remembered of life with my family. Her despair when my father had died nearly overwhelmed me. As great as my grief for him had been, hers was ten times greater.

And Henri. Henri feeding her pills to dull her pain. Pills that he had had her wash down with alcohol, and when the pills were not enough the cigarettes laced with black tar heroin. I could taste the heavy sweetness of the molasses soaked opiate and feel the euphoria, the oblivion. Again Henri, this time spiking a vein for her. I watched the needle pierce her skin and the blossom of red in the syringe before he injected nirvana directly into her blood.

She stopped breathing. Her heartbeat, rapid and thready, faltered once, raced, and then stuttered to a stop. The last of her thoughts and memories slammed into me like a blow to the solar plexus.

She had known from the beginning what Henri had been doing to me. She had known and had allowed him to continue. She had traded me willingly to my sadistic uncle for the drugs he had provided to her.

Kneeling by her body on her bed I began to sway. I didn’t know if it was her wasted soul, the force of my emotions, or the drugs in her blood, but I was overcome by exhaustion. I felt unable to move, though I wanted to be away from this corpse, away from this room, away from this house.

Gabriel wrapped me in his strong arms and lifted me off my mother’s bed. Cradling me against his chest he carried me from her room and down the stairs. Gratefully, I nestled into his embrace as we left the house. Before He had reached the street, I was asleep.
7 comments

anonymous readerReport

2011-07-04 18:20:53
Amazing job! PLEASE PLEASE write more!

anonymous readerReport

2011-01-07 01:13:45
yo me it would be nice if she got pregnant...

anonymous readerReport

2010-12-21 23:16:31
I love your writing. It feels me with longing. Beautiful

anonymous readerReport

2010-09-28 09:16:36
the sign of a good writer is getting your reader emotionaly involved with your characters. even on a site like this. you do this incredibly well.

please write more.

maryjanneexxReport

2010-09-22 18:42:15
Awesome, but I'm absolutely CRAVING another rough scene like when they were together in the first story

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