Starla, the Vampire! (Sex Journal 14-16/4/16); [Fm][nonfic][sm][l-bomb!?]

Hey, Reddit! Starla isn’t dead, don’t worry. It’s just been crunch time around here, as far as my studies go. Haven’t had as much time to write. More will come as I finish up my finals, so stay tuned. As always, enjoy~

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“Nice to meet you. My name is Starla, and your baby boy beats my pussy like it stole something. Every. Goddamn. Night.”

That’s not what I said to Mark’s mother when I met her. Boy, I wish I was that brave. No, I barely said anything to her at all, actually. He just introduced me over Easter dinner at the local Golden Corral. We’re all low caliber folk, here, so go ahead and put that judgment away right now, reader. You know good and well you would eat bacon wrapped sirloin for 9 bucks, by itself. On top of it being a full buffet—

I digress. I’m sorry; I’m a lard, I know. Anyway, I should really go back to the beginning of the story. We were laying around in bed, early on Easter Sunday, just enjoying each other. I’m not at all religious, or superstitious, but I enjoy this time of year, when the last of the truly cold days are behind you, and the sun dominates the sky for most of the day. I find that it’s harder to linger in my bad moods when everything is warm, green, and the birds are trying to fuck each other silly. I was glad that Mark stuck around with me long enough to be able to meet this new person; happy Starla, with a tan. Well, I don’t have a tan quite yet, but I’m working on it.

The end of his first year of college was drawing close, too, and I could see the exuberance in his eyes, every morning. He would wake up, and his eyes and his smile would be slightly brighter. It felt like we were both unintentionally building up to some moment, not at all unlike a shared climax. But, there were a few obstacles which we had to surmount first, before we could coast through the summer.

So, I had his cock in my mouth when he got the phone call. I thought I was gonna be a minx and keep sucking while he handled his business; make him feel like a kingpin, because he deserves it. But, he went flaccid almost instantly, when he looked at his phone. “It’s… It’s my mom,” he said. I sat up beside him, as he answered it. “Hello? Yeah, happy Easter to you too. Huh? Oh y-yeah, I was going to— What? Why? No, no, it’s okay, I’m just… You didn’t want to go to church there? No, no, I understand…” He slid out of bed, as he kept talking. “Okay, well how far away are—” His eyes widened, as he scrambled into his clothing. “N-no it’s fine. I was just sleeping in, but I’m already awake. I’ll be ready. Yeah. Okay, alright, bye. Ahuh, love you too. Bye.” His face when he hung up made me giggle. “Fuck me…”

“She dragging you to church,” I asked, as I lit a cigarette.

“She said she’ll be here in forty-five minutes. Can I use your shower?”

“Damn. Yeah, go for it,” I said. “Your clothes? You need me to take you to your dorm, too?”

“I… I’m so sorry, I had no idea she was going to—”

“No time to apologize. Hop in the shower already,” I said, as I rolled out of bed, stretching. Long story short, he made it back to campus in time to put on his wrinkled Sunday best. I watched him enter his building, and then I disappeared. There were so many children on campus; one of the sororities was hosting an Easter egg hunt for the local community, and when I say children, I actually do mean children. However, the children made the freshmen and sophomores seem that much younger in my eyes. I couldn’t stay. I felt guilty.

The Friday before that, Good Friday (because all other Fridays are shitty, apparently), Kiera and I had a little heart to heart. Things were civil at first, then they got heated, but they ended on a positive note. “You’re a vampire, Starla.”

“Excuse me?” That was the moment.

“He’s not even 20. He doesn’t even know who he is himself, and you’re smothering him,” she said. I knew that I had a response for that, but I couldn’t string the words together, so she continued. “I know that you don’t plan to keep him forever; don’t even pretend like he’s not just a good time.”

“Stop talking like you understand what we have,” I snapped. Not a refutation of her point, but it felt good to say it, either way.

“In his mind, the next four years at least are yours. You’re his first. The thought of going back to being single still terrifies him, so don’t pretend like you need him as much as you’ve made him need you.”

“You think I’m using him? Kiera, I’m not that person. I do genuinely like him, and this is none of your business anyway.”

“What are you going to do when he says that he loves you,” she said. Savage honesty. I didn’t have an answer for that. “And you know it’ll come to that.”

“Don’t say that. You don’t know what he’s going to do. You don’t know what kind of person he’s going to grow into.”

“And what makes you think you deserve a hand in that? If you’re not planning on staying with this boy,” she said, crossing her arms. “He’s a good boy. Just because you’re okay with having casual sex doesn’t—” She stopped herself, and rephrased the statement, after scratching her scalp. “It’s a part of his beliefs that sex and love go hand in hand. You know it’s coming. Don’t pretend like you don’t.” So, I cried. Because she was right. I was a vampire. Our relationship was doomed to be asymmetrical; all he had to offer me was his innocence, but I was his provider, comforter, companion, his everything. My little fantasy relationship had to end, or at least be pruned back. Mark doesn’t owe me anything, and I needed to make sure that he knew that.

Friday night, I parked beneath his window — he lives on the fifth floor — and sent him a “Get your butt into the car” text. I watched his bedroom light flick off, only a second later. He was already prepared to leave; he was waiting for me. No other plans. I wonder how many of his friends he had turned down, for my sake. I wondered if he had any other friends, because I hadn’t met any.

We sat in a parking lot, smoked weed, and listened to DAMN. and More Life, like 21st century beatniks, while I tried to hamfistedly rehash the finer points of the conversation I had earlier.

“What uh… Where do you see us down the road,” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean like… Do you feel like your time is being wasted?”

“No? Are you wasting my time?” He passed me the blunt.

“I just… Mark, you’ve been such a perfect guy to me. And I’m more than happy with everything you do. But, well… You’re still so young. You deserve better. More.” There was a long silence.

“Is… I’m confused. Is this a breakup?”

“What? No, no, that’s not— Shit, it sounded that way. Bluh, what I meant to say was that… I dunno, I just want to know where you see this going.”

“Is this something you need an answer for, right now?” I glanced over. “I’m high, and I don’t know how I feel sober…” He chose to punt the issue down the road.

“No, no, take your time,” I said. Of course, we fucked in my backseat, shortly afterwards. I taught him how to choke me, and where to spank me. I taught him how to enjoy inflicting pain; how to let go of the gentleman, for just a brief moment. I taught him how to court the bright, dangerous emotions within the boundaries of fantasy. I taught him to keep going; that it was okay that he was seeing a bit of red pebbling up on my flesh, and beneath his fingernails. I didn’t tell him why he was doing this. I didn’t tell him that I was giving him his retribution, for stealing away the last month of his life. He spanked me until my cunt was drooling on my backseat, and he plunged his fingers inside, while his free hand scratched beastly lines down my back, and my ass.

He grabbed my bun, and forced my face into the cushion while he drilled my cunt. The entire van rocked and swayed furiously with the motion of his hips. He torqued my neck slightly, to the point where it made an audible pop. He froze, and let go. “Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Relax, you didn’t break my neck,” I said, guiding his hand back to my bun. “Don’t you dare stop right now.” He laughed at himself, as he worked back up to speed. “Make me your bitch, Mark!” He grunted in response to my abrasive talk. “Ruin me, Mark! Fuck me!” He tore my face from the cushion, and wrapped his hand around my neck, forcing my face straight up. He kissed me deeply, careful to avoid getting his tongue bitten off, before he forced me and my fat tits against the window. This wasn’t your typical PG-13 sex scene. There wasn’t as much fog on the windows as one might imagine. I was very exposed; if you were there, you could have seen my throbbing heartbeat from the fucking road. The fucking asshole had been studying some hardcore, rough shit while I wasn’t paying attention, apparently. Had I known, I would have brought towels, because I came so hard on his cock, I could hear myself drip on the seats, over the music.

He wrenched both of my arms behind my back, and began to thrust upwards, deeper, and harder than he ever had. I felt his cock pulse through my cunt several times, delivering that guilty, hot pleasure right into my cervix. I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice there was a second car in the parking lot. Some random sedan, with a random latina in the back seat, sitting up, wiping her face. She looked at me, laughed and pointed. A second person peered up, also in the back seat. I laughed too, far too late to pretend like all of that hadn’t happened. Mark let me slip backwards into his arms, out of view. Of course, we talked more later. We ironed things out. It doesn’t make for a particularly dramatic story, but that’s okay. He knows his worth. I’m sure of that now.

So, that leads me back to Sunday afternoon. I was sitting across from his mother, while he was sitting beside me in the booth. She didn’t like me at first, which I get. I wouldn’t have liked me, where I his mother. I was basically a sexual predator who got away on a technicality, in her eyes. I didn’t dare tell her my age, but she could tell that I wasn’t fresh out of high school. Still though, when she heard that I was a nurse, she told me that one of her closest friends was a nurse, and just like that, we had a dialogue. She saw Spring/Summer Starla, the levelheaded, always chipper version. Not the anxious, bipolar, creep that sneaks out in late October. She was impressed by me, and we ended up talking Mark into complete silence, over sweetened tea.

This adorable little fuck brought me a slice of warm pie with ice cream on top of it. Her mom flashed a grin, as I struggled to find a response. “You didn’t get your mother a slice? Shame.” To which, his mother burst into laughter. With that, she all but reached over with an official, notarized stamp of approval, and put it square in the middle of my forehead.

“By all means, don’t let me get in the way of you riding my boy’s young, hard, black dick. You enjoy it, and you treat her right, son, okay?”

“Why thank you. I think after you go home, I’m going to let him choke me with the leather belt you bought him, while he pounds my box, raw.”

“Mmm, sounds like a good time. Welp, like I said, don’t let me get in the way.”

That’s what I heard in my head, at least.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/67k5cf/starla_the_vampire_sex_journal_1416416