An Erotic Retelling
Jack Danyá Kemplin
Warning: this story is an erotica, & thus is of an erotically sexual nature. If you are offended by such material or are under the ages of 18 or 21, do NOT read further.
He stands there, the old man with his long ivory hair, & bushy mustache. Standing above that crimson couch, as deep red as his soft young succulent lips. He lowers his stout, pale, clawed hand towards a head of vibrant auburn hair, softly caressing it with his drab palm, wrinkled, covered with thick white hairs that sprout from every pour. The old man smiles, his teeth gleaming in the soft flicker of candlelight. The young man turns in the bed like as if the old man’s hands are but a soft breeze from an open window. “Mmmm… What shall we do with him Master?” A beautifully fair young woman hisses, licking her ruby lips, eyes filled with ecstasy as she slithers from behind the old man’s sackcloth draped shoulder, “Nothing!” the old man shouts in anger, “Do not ruin my plans! He is a part of it. You will not strike until it is time, anything else will jeopardize everything!” Two others slither out from behind him “Ooooohhhhhh…” all three Sukkumbi groan.
The dominant one speaks, her luscious words emanating from her poison lips, “When it be time Master couldst we devour him, feeding off his juices, wellst drowning him within ours?” The old man grabs her soft, flawless hands with their long delicate, nimble fingers, lengthened by their three-inch nails, grabs them with the gentleness of a lover as he slowly turns his head to face her’s, his other hand slowly creeping its way up her smooth milky, glistening shoulder, smoothing it out even more with his tender touch as he works his way up to her long, slender neck, cradling it in his grotesque hands. His soft, gentle, cater axed gray eyes meet with her’s, their ecstasy now compounded with passionate longings for his gentle caress, even though he is touching her already. She wants more, O how she wants it, she feels like as if she is going to scream, her cold dead heart beating ever so fast, pumping its diseased blood. She starts to moisten, feels like she is going to burst into a gooey puddle if something doesn’t happen quick.
“Of course my love, you couldst do as you please” he says in the most soothing voice any creature couldst make, breathing the words from his very heart, them rising from his lips like mist, O my, she can even smell his words, passionate like roses mixed with honey. Her voluptuous hips pulsating, mimicking the deed she wishes to do. His hand which was clutching her’s now softly moves up to her right breast lovingly cupping it, his head gently moving in towards her’s, his crimson lips drawn to her’s, they meet as her body erupts in the ecstasy that her eyes always held, screams of passion ejaculating from her tender lips.
Copyright ã 2004 by Jack Danyá Kemplin, All rights reserved.
Dracula Copyright ã 1896 by Bram (Abraham) Stoker, All rights reserved.