Upon my eighteenth birthday, when I became a man in the jaundiced eyes of Romanian law, my father sat me down in the musty living room of our ancient cottage and told me the story of the Countess Sabrina Comaneci – the evil, vengeful, undead, large-breasted and downy-pussied seductress who haunted the backwoods byways of our impoverished province, hungrily supping the blood, and other bodily fluids, of virginal males.
A single flickering tallow illuminated our sparsely furnished parlour, as a savage wind howled at the rotted eaves of our humble abode and twisted tree limbs clawed at the shutters as if seeking entry. ‘Her beauty is the stuff of the great artists Grigorescu and Luchian,’ my father intoned. ‘Men cannot resist her, and women detest her. It is legend that on a night many, many centuries ago, when the evening star Venus was at its zenith, the lust-crazed Countess succeeded in seducing one of her stable hands, a virginal boy of eighteen who had only that morning become betrothed to a poor peasant girl whom he had courted for years. And just as the Countess was teetering on the very edge of ecstasy, the young man’s fiancé rushed into the room, saw what was happening, and in a fit of jealous rage seized a sabre from the wall and plunged it deep into the Countess, piercing her wicked heart, killing the beautiful temptress before she could attain sexual release.
‘And from that night onward, whenever the planet Venus is in its ascension, the Countess walks the earth, stalks this province’s virginal sons recently turned eighteen, seeking the ecstasy in death she was denied in life. And by taking her fiendish vengeance, temporarily satiating her unquenchable, ages-old lust, she also takes the life of the young man whom she violates. He becomes a part of her army of the damned, to be used and abused by her for all of eternity.’
I stared into my father’s watery blue eyes, at his trembling blue lips, and a cold shiver travelled the length of my spine. ‘How can I avoid such a fate, father?’ I queried, my voice breaking, my hands shaking.
‘By remaining safely indoors when Venus is the brightest star in the sky; by never setting foot outside when the Countess is on the prowl,’ he replied, grasping my hands with his bony claws. ‘Promise me this, my son!’
I earnestly promised to abide by the old man’s superstitious wishes, seeking to reassure him. ‘And where is Venus now, Father?’ I inquired.
‘In its ascension!’ he cried, staring out the dusty window at the darkening sky.
I would have been wise to have heeded my father’s warning, but I was young and foolish and daring, and dubious of my father’s many tall tales and handed-down myths. More importantly, my gorgeous girlfriend, Daria, had promised me a special treat for my birthday, and what come-of-age man can resist such a titillating promise as that? So, once my father had retired to bed, was deep in his slumber, out into the windswept night I ventured.
* * *
Daria and I rendezvoused at our usual spot, on the mossy green banks of a thin trickle of a cold, clear stream that flowed past an abandoned mill. The long shadows of dusk had been usurped by the inky blackness of night, and I kindled a small fire, admiring my Daria in its glow.
‘You are truly beautiful,’ I told her truthfully, my eyes roaming all over her voluptuous body, which had only recently ripened into full womanhood. She was scantily covered by a thin white summer dress and her chestnut-coloured hair cascaded long and thick over her bare, buff shoulders. Her large brown eyes reflected the dancing flames from the fire, and her pretty face shone like a princess’s.
‘Thank you, Gregor,’ she responded in a soft, shy voice, gazing bashfully into the fire for a moment, and then back up at me. ‘I told you I had a special treat for your birthday…and here it is.’ She slowly unfastened the buttons on the front of her dress, her sparkling eyes never leaving mine, and the almost-sheer garment slid down her body with barely a whisper and puddled at her feet, leaving her breathtakingly, stunningly naked!
‘Daria!’ I breathed, staring in awe at her lush, creamy-white body.
Her breasts were huge and heavy-looking, round and ivory, capped by twin kitten-pink nipples that jutted out from her dewy tit-flesh fairly half an inch or more (and were growing still longer and harder in the cooling night air). Between her smooth, slim legs lay a neatly-trimmed triangle of downy, brown fur, and when she shifted her lithe legs even wider apart, I could see her pink pussy lips, glistening with moisture, anticipation.
‘Daria!’ I repeated, overwhelmed, rushing around the fire and into her open arms. I mashed my lips against her soft, pouty lips, her enormous tits pressing hotly against my chest, my nimble hands gripping and squeezing her plump, rounded butt cheeks.
She responded with equal passion, sliding her slippery tongue into my mouth and swirling it around, the two of us fiercely frenching for what seemed for ever. When I at last broke mouth and tongue contact with the pretty peasant girl, whom I had lusted after for so many years, I began kissing and licking and biting my way down her long, slender neck, all the way down to the awesome chest that was the spectacular heritage of all of the women in her blessed family.
I cupped her immense jugs in my covetous hands, revelling in the solid weight and silky, superheated texture of her burgeoning boobs, and then I bent my head down and licked at one of her rigid nipples, teasing the pebbled underside of it with my flicking tongue. She cried out with pleasure, clutched at my straw-coloured hair with her long, sharp-tipped fingers, and I took the fully-flowered nipple into my mouth and sucked on it, tugged hungrily on it.
‘God, yes, Gregor, suck my tits!’ she groaned, her amber eyes closed, her head lolling back on her shoulders, her mountainous tits and rubbery nubs quite obviously super-sensitive to the touch.
I suckled her swollen tit-cap like a hungry baby, and then mouthed as much of her tremendous right breast as I could. I pulled on her fleshy, fiery tit with my mouth, scoured the firm underside of it with my whipping tongue, before eventually disgorging its dripping, snowy-white mass and attacking Daria’s other breast. I licked and sucked on it as I had her other tit, and then pushed her wicked knockers together and flailed my tongue back and forth across both of her stiffened buds at once, tongue-lashing her rock-hard nipples.
‘Make me come, Gregor!’ she hissed. ‘Make me come!’
I took it by this that the writhing girl with the spit-slickened jugs wanted me to make love to her pussy as I’d made love to her tits, and my thoughts were confirmed when she anxiously pushed my head down. I fell to my knees and grasped her plump, trembling butt cheeks, stared at her glistening sex momentarily, breathing in the damp, musky scent of her want. Then I held my breath and plunged my nose into her springy pubes, my tongue into her slit.
‘Yes!’ she screamed, clutching her mammoth mams and savagely kneading them, twisting and pulling her rosy nipples in a frenzy.
My head spun with the intoxicating smell of her sex, but I resolutely tongued her twat, dragging my rough tongue over her sticky lips from butt-hole to clitty, over and over again, lapping at her labes with an earnestness I was sure would be rewarded and reciprocated. Then I formed my thick tongue into a hardened spear and drove it deep into my girl’s cunt.
‘I’m coming!’ Daria squealed, her flame-licked, undulating body misty with perspiration, her giant jugs jouncing up and down in her small hands as she was rocked repeatedly by orgasm, as I vigorously stabbed her gash with my tongue.
And when the darling girl with the lust-inducing body finally calmed down again, I withdrew my tongue from her dripping twat, licked my slimy lips, and climbed to my feet. I quickly shrugged off my suspenders and pulled down my pants, and my swollen cock sprang out into the cool evening air, twitching for attention. ‘Don’t forget to blow out my birthday candle, Daria,’ I quipped, grinning wolfishly at the lovely, nude young woman.
She looked down at my straining manhood, as it billowed out to its full seven inch glory, then up into my face, then over my shoulder, and suddenly her brown eyes flooded with a terror more than that of a nervous, barely legal babe about to devour her very first cock. ‘Ohmigod! Run, Gregor, run!’ she wailed, twirling around and rushing off into the bushes, leaving her clothes and my raging hard-on behind.
I stood there, confused and frustrated, and then I heard a soft, rustling sound behind me, like that of a bat landing and folding its wings, and I spun around – and beheld an exquisitely beautiful woman who I instinctively knew was the Countess Sabrina Comaneci, the evil, erotic blood and soul-sucker my father had warned me about.
She was small in stature, vertically, but so much, much larger horizontally, where it counted, and she was completely and utterly naked save for a black satin cape with blood-red lining that hung about her shoulders, tied at the neck. Her breasts were absolutely gargantuan, translucent, blue-veined spheres that hung heavily from her chest like ivory melons. Her face was a perfect, porcelain oval, her hair long and black, and both her face and her hair shone and shimmered in the light shed by the crackling fire, by the giant, glowing orb in the sky known as the planet Venus.
The Countess spread her arms, her cape, and hissed at me, baring a pair of long, lethal-looking fangs. ‘You are ready for me, mortal!’ she shrilled, in a voice as sweet as the honeysuckle and deep as the grave, her black eyes glittering as they ogled my penis.
I looked where she was looking, and was astounded to see that I was still steel-hard, in fact, amazingly, longer and harder and thicker than any time previously. The wicked lady’s uninhibited, almost tangible, lust engulfed my ready and willing body, and I felt compelled by some unknown, primal force to grip the instrument of her desire (and my release), and urgently stroke it.
‘You will satisfy me tonight, and I will satisfy you for all time!’ the Countess shrieked, grasping her massive mammaries and fondling them, her demon eyes rolling back in her head and her crimson mouth falling open.
And then, before I could even react, she swooped down upon me, pushed me to the ground with the strength of ten women, and mounted my upthrust stake, impaling herself on my wood. She let out a primeval scream that shattered the night for miles around, started bouncing up and down on my cock, pumping her ass, her moist, musty pussy easily swallowing up my entire granite length. She leaned forward, and her colossal tits bounced rhythmically across my face, her spike-like nipples slapping my lips as she rocked back and forth on my prong.
The unearthly eroticism of that sexy she-beast rendered my mind incapable of thought, my muscles incapable of action. Some sort of resistance may have been possible, I suppose, but after the agonizing frustration with Daria, both this night and many nights before, I only too eagerly embraced the prospect of all-out relief that the Countess provided me with. An eternity of damnation be damned, I was going to get laid that night.
‘Beelzebub, yes!’ the Countess cried, as I stuck out my tongue and licked at her blood-red nipples flicking across my lips, as she plunged my super-hardened cock in and out of her gripping pussy.
She kissed me on the mouth with a pair of cold, scarlet lips, but her chill breath did nothing to bank the raging fire in my loins. She savagely bit into my erect nipples, then sealed her lips around first one punctured protuberance and then the other, sucking long and hard and deeply, before finally lifting her head and smacking her plasma-smeared lips.
She bucked up and down on my calcified cock, faster and faster, frenziedly riding my tool, building and building her towering pleasure to a cataclysmic conclusion, whereupon her tombstone-white body rippled with orgasmic fulfilment. Her pale twin globes shimmied with ecstasy, and her jutting nubs spouted curdled milk, as she was jolted again and again by brutal orgasm. The satanic siren gushed slime out of her crimson gash, slathering my rock-hard member with her ferocious joy, and I could only lie there, dreamy-eyed and defenceless, and take it, unwilling and unable to stop the hellish carnality.
The Countess tilted her face up to the heavens and howled at the planet Venus, before collapsing on top of me and whimpering like a wounded animal. The Earth literally had moved, getting ready to swallow me up. The sexy lady vampire licked her pap off my face in long, slow, satisfied tongue-strokes, then snaked her tongue into my mouth and down my throat, almost choking me with her gratitude. She gorged herself on my mouth, kissing and frenching me, licking my lips, before finally setting her sights a little lower and sliding down my sweat-slick chest to get face-to-phallus with my stiffened dong.
She slithered in between my legs and grasped my glistening cock in one of her talons, began licking up and down my swollen shaft with a forked, velvet-sandpaper tongue. She slobbered all over my painfully-erect dick, swirling her wanton tongue all around my mushroomed, purple cock-top, my yawning slit, eagerly lapping up and swallowing down my oozing pre-cum. She greedily sucked my bloated hood into her slavering mouth, tugged on it for awhile, her cheeks billowing in and out, and then she dropped her beautiful head down and easily inhaled the entire length of my pulsing dong.
‘Jesus!’ I groaned ironically, my body weak with her witchery, my cock strong. The whole of my meat was lodged in her devilish mouth and throat, packed hot and tight and wet.
She stared up at me as I stared down at her, her ebony eyes glittering, depthless pools reflecting my own uncontrollable desire. Her tongue, incredibly, glided out of her crammed-full mouth and licked at my furry pouch, juggled my balls around, cool, damp breath steaming out of her flared nostrils and onto my rippling abdomen. Then, just as the semen in my sack was about to go to full-boil, blow up my shaft and into her mouth, she reared her head back and disgorged my slathered, supercharged cock.
The Countess grinned evilly at me, her razor-sharp fangs gleaming, growing, getting ready to…
Well, suffice it to say that I sprayed more than sperm that glorious night – although I did spray plenty of that. My ecstasy went on and on and on, she insatiably milking my dick with her mouth and throat, me plaintively, pushing my hips off the ground to feed my mistress’s eternal hunger, till, finally, the cold light of dawn broke, sending us scuttling for shelter. Down into a dark, dusty, centuries-old crypt we journeyed, home of the Countess Sabrina Comaneci and her many manly followers; my home.