Honey is Sweeter than Blood Read Free Page B

on her back, staring down at where he was sunk to his very base in that dark thatch, staring at the neck where it ended in blackness.
    He heard a shuddery little exhalation or a moan from Kristen’s invisible lips.  He smelled cigarettes on her wafting warm breath.  He tried to ignore it.  He tried to ignore the wet glisten he saw of one of her eyes through the tight black mesh across her face.
    As he pumped, he felt a dry touch upon his back.  “No!” he husked almost desperately, the contact all but shattering his near hypnotic state.  He tried to make his tone less urgent.  “Please, Kristen…don’t touch me…not yet…”
    He felt her hand withdraw.   Sensed the reluctance in the motion.  Again she extended her pure white arm across the field of black sheets, which pooled under her like dark blood.  The black lace glove she wore made her hand disappear, as much as was possible, against that expanse of black satin.
    He hadn’t had to have the gloves made.  But he had had black lace coverings made for her feet, that were a cross between a sock and a slipper.  And he had had a black lace mask made for her, which covered the whole of her head.  Though she could breathe through its web-like weave, there were no holes for her eyes, nose or mouth.  The lights were low.  It was a nearly convincing effect.  With the additional benefit of Justin’s ample imagination, it was a very gratifying effect.
    He started to moan more deeply, to pump more and more quickly and aggressively.  The bed began rocking like a black ocean.  In the emptiness where her head should have been, Justin heard Kristen moan through her mask as well.  In her own mounting ardor, she drew up her legs and hooked them over the backs of Justin’s calves.
    “No,” he rasped, “Jesus, Kristen, please!” In one fluid movement, as though the slippery sheets aided him, he was out of her and sitting on the edge of the bed, lowering his forehead into his palms, his flushed heart jackhammering.
    “Oh, Just, come on,” Kristen sighed, sitting up beside him.  She peeled the caul-like black membrane off her face, but left on the gloves and stockings.  “I’ve been playing along…it’s been fun…but don’t get like this about it.”
    “I’m just…” he began.  But he didn’t know what he meant to add to that.
    “You’re self-conscious because you’re em-barrassed to be revealing your fantasies to me.  That’s natural…fantasies are very private and personal things.  I’m proud you trust me to share yours with me.” She obviously noticed his fading member, because she slid off the bed and knelt between his knees, and took it in hand.  “Come on, baby, let’s get you back in the mood, huh?”
    Justin looked down at the top of Kristen’s head, her black hair, as she took him into her mouth.  He saw that she had white hairs at the top of her head where she was graying prematurely.  She obviously dyed her hair black to hide them.  He almost put his hands on that head to hold her at his groin, but couldn’t bring himself to touch it.  And yet he was inside it.  He was on her tongue.  That saliva-slicked steamy-hot chamber from which the voice issued.  Teeth raked along his shaft…
    He pushed her off him.  She fell backwards but was able to catch herself from falling all the way onto her back.  Justin had bolted to his feet, his penis flopping weakly.
    “Fuck this,” Kristen hissed under her breath, jolting to her feet and turning away from him.  “I was only trying to help you, asshole.  See how many other girls you can find off the web that will be so patient with your fucked-up games…”
    “Kristen…”
    She whirled to blaze her cold eyes at him, to bare those raking sharp animal teeth at him, like the ribs in the donkey’s split belly.  Jabbed a finger at him.  “You pushed me, motherfucker! Do you know how many guys never get head at all from their girlfriends or their wives? And you push me off