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The rhythmic thump, thump, thump of the headboard matched the pounding of my headache. Grabbing the sides of the pillow and covering my ears, I was praying for a reprieve from the creaking bedsprings and sexual groans above me.

Moan, moan, thump, thump, thump, grunt, grunt, moan, thump.

The coital sounds of the male and female rutting together had been going on for hours now. Part of me was impressed at the stamina of the pair, but the other part was frustrated at yet another sleepless night.

Thump, thump, thump, moan, grunt, thump, moan, moan, grunt.

The noises above me built to a crescendo, the thumping of the headboard against the wall growing faster, and then slowing right down as the moans and grunting subsided. Peace, at last. I rolled over onto my side and closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would find me.

My eyes slowly peeled open, the morning crusties sticking in the corners and feeling itchy and dry. I sat up, wondering why it was lighter in my room than usual when I woke up. Feeling that small pit of dread in the bottom of my stomach, I checked my phone and realised the alarm hadn’t gone off. I had overslept by an hour. I stumbled out of bed, muttering to myself and cursing the asshole who lived above me. I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since he had moved in, the pleading, sexual moans of the women keeping me awake night after night. I was surprised he hadn’t fucked his way through the entire female population at this point, for all the women who passed through. But somehow, he managed a new one most nights, some of them being friends or women I worked with. It was awkward enough living below him, but I really resented when he infringed on my work or social life.

I pulled the door closed behind me and sighed. Crisis averted, at least for now. I finished off braiding my damp hair, and headed down the stairs, hoping that waking up late and rushing around to get ready, wasn’t going to set the tone for the rest of my day. I really didn’t know if I could handle another bad day. The musty smells of the lobby curled up into the air and hit me in the face, my nose crinkling against the damp stench. No matter that I had lived in the apartment block for three years now, the smell seemed to grow worse by the day.

My path to salvation from the stench was blocked by a young couple kissing in front of the large glass doors. The man broke free from the kiss and spied me standing there, as I waited for the love fest to break up. He looked me up and down slowly, his gaze lingering on my chest, before he whispered something in the woman’s ear, causing her to giggle. He angled his head slightly, staring straight into my eyes, and whispered close to her ear, “I want to fuck you hard.” She, of course, giggled again, going in for another kiss.

A jolt shot through me, but I ignored it. I didn’t need another reminder that it had been an age since I’d last been laid. Hearing the constant reminder of my lack of sex life from the screaming sensations he bought home was one thing, but I was not going to stand here and have to witness the live reenactment.

I cleared my throat. “Excuse me,” I said, entirely unimpressed by the display before me. Breaking away from the kiss again, he smiled at the beautiful woman in front of him, and almost pushed her out the lobby doors as he mumbled a goodbye.

“Your Highness,” he said sarcastically, stepping aside dramatically.

I rolled my eyes as I walked past, pushing on the glass doors. Not being able to help myself though, I stopped and turned around. “You know, ever since you moved in, I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep.”

“Moi?” he asked, hand on his chest in a manner that was almost effeminate, his face one of mock horror.

“Yes, you,” I said, stepping back inside the lobby, the door rattling as it shut once more. “You bring home a different woman nearly every single night, stay up late having sex with her, and then discard her in the morning, never to be seen again.”

“Now that’s not true,” he said. “Sometimes I see the same woman more than once.”

“You going to see her again?” I asked, motioning with my head the direction she had walked.

He thought on this a moment, his gestures dramatic and entirely sarcastic, mocking me and making a great show of being deep in thought. “No, I don’t think so,” he finally said. “She would only do it in one position, and she was loose.”

My face flamed. “You’re disgusting.”

He shrugged, not caring at all. Deciding that I wanted no further part in this conversation, I turned once more and opened the door.

“Why do you listen then, if you think so little of me?”

The question rattled me. I paused on the threshold, not knowing what to do. Walk away, or argue my point? I turned and faced him. He was smug, and I hated him for it.

“Are you aware of just how loud you are? I live directly below you and-”

He cut me off. “Does it turn you on?”

Both questions of his had thrown me, this one more than the first, and he knew it. His icy blue eyes pierced me, never blinking, always staring. “W-what?” I eventually asked.

“Does it turn you on, listening to me fuck?”

“You’re-”

“Disgusting? Yes, I know,” he said, once more interrupting me. “I bet it does turn you on. Do you picture me as well? Do you imagine our bodies naked together? My cock and her pussy?”

I could feel my face getting hotter, and I knew that surely my cheeks were scarlet red. I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know how to answer. What was one supposed to say? I turned on my heels for the final time and fled the lobby, the cool, fresh air a welcome relief to both my cheeks and my nostrils.

-----------------------------

“And he’s just so arrogant and high on himself,” I said to my friend Sherri. Despite the fact that I was hungry, I found I had no appetite for my sad-looking salad.

“What are we talking about again?” Sherri asked, not paying attention. She was reading the packaging of her instant noodle lunch.

I sighed. “The guy who lives above me, Asher.”

“Which one is he?”

“Asher,” I said. “The one you thought was kind of scary, but you said you digged that about him.”

“Oh, yeah. Him,” she said. She smiled at the memory. Sherri had fancied Asher ever since meeting him, and despite the fact that he would bed anything that moved, he hadn’t gone after Sherri. I never knew whether to be relieved or offended.

“He’s just… He’s such an ass and I really think that-”

Sherri cut me off. “It sounds like you’re obsessed with him, Min.”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken about nothing but him for the past three days. Change the record, babe, I’m sick of hearing about him, despite how much I like his face.”

I gave a half-hearted apology, my fork moving a few lettuce leaves around. “I’m sick of this,” I said, standing up. “I’m going downstairs to get a burger.”

“What about your new clean eating plan?” asked Sherri.

“Stuff it,” I said, abandoning my Greek salad.

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“Oh for fuck's sake,” I hissed to myself, as the pair in the apartment above me went into overdrive, the mattress springs creaking. I fumbled in the darkness for the headphones I kept on my bedside table, hoping that listening to music would be enough to drown them out.

Bing! I could almost hear the sound of a good idea coming into my head, I could almost see the glow of the little lightbulb, I could almost feel the heat from it. I smiled to myself in the darkness.

I flicked on the stereo, turning everything up to maximum volume. A tsunami of sound fell from the speakers, the music loudly pouring out. Two could play at this game. If he was going to disturb my sleep, then I was going to disturb his fucking.

The creaking of the bedsprings and the thudding of the headboard eased off, and I sat in the darkness proudly, thinking that my plan was working. Every now and then, I heard a half-hearted attempt at their coupling trying to start back up, but it was disjointed at best, and it held none of the same vim and vigor from before.

I was exhausted the next morning, but I didn’t care. The thrill of a small victory was enough to keep me going. The day outside seemed slightly brighter, my shower seemed slightly better than the one I’d had the day before, and my morning coffee tasted like it had more pep. Despite feeling as if I had run a marathon, I was walking on air.

Asher stood right outside my door, waiting for me to emerge. He looked sulky, like a petulant child, arms folded across his chest, his expression sour. He gave me a fright as I left my apartment, but I didn’t let it ruin my good mood. I walked right past him, almost skipping down the corridor.

“Mindy,” he said, quickening his pace to catch up to me. “I didn’t appreciate your little performance last night.”

“I don’t appreciate your little performances.”

“Proud of yourself?” he asked.

“Very,” I replied, turning the corner to walk down the flight of stairs.

Asher cut in front of me, going down two steps at a time. I tried to move around him, but he blocked me off.

“Jealous?” he asked, his tone changing. A response flared up inside me, but I quickly pushed it back down again. I was in too good a mood to be baited by him this morning.

“No.”

Asher smirked at me. “I don’t believe you.”

I rolled my eyes and walked around him, quickly descending the stairs. I sighed in frustration, when, at the bottom of the stairs, he cut in front of me and blocked my path for a second time. “I don’t believe you,” he repeated.

“Going off what I heard last night, you’re off your game,” I said, taunting him.

“Off my game?”

“Mmmhmm.” Smiling, I folded my arms across my chest and looked him up and down. “Way off your game. You couldn’t even keep it going while I enjoyed some light music.”

His face was set in a stony expression and he stood there staring. I had gotten to him, finally, I had been successful. I felt triumphant, remembering all the times he had taunted and teased me, making himself a cozy little space inside my head.

But the longer he stared, the more my moment of glory was fading, instead, I felt uncomfortable. He just stood there, like an angry, lanky lump, not even twitching, completely still and silent. I dared myself to try and hold his gaze, battled with myself internally, that I just had to win this silent battle of wills. He was not going to take my one small triumph away from me, but he did. In the end, he won. I faltered, quickly averting my gaze to the dirty, cheap linoleum floor, and when I looked back at him, his thin lips were curled into a smile.

“You wouldn’t know how to play my game,” he said, relishing that he was the one doing the taunting once more.

I was tongue-tied again, and nervous. How did I always let him do this to me? I was so confident, only moments ago, and now I was coming across like some unintellectual doof, who had no command of the English language. I tried to speak, my mouth tried to form the shape of words, but somehow I couldn’t. Once they reached my tongue, my words were mush. Asher’s thin lips curled up again into the grin I had come to hate.

“You know,” I said. “Someone ought to teach you a lesson.” It wasn’t my best work, but it would have to do. A comeback was a comeback, even if it was mediocre.

“A sexy lesson?” he teased.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “That is so not what I meant.”

“Oh yes it is,” he replied.

I opened my mouth to speak, and then stopped myself. Nothing was keeping me here. I could leave any time I wanted. I did not have to stand here and indulge in his stupid games. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” I said. As I walked past him, I heard him rattling with laughter.

----------------------------

Midday. I sighed. The day had dragged on, and it was only half over. How it was only lunchtime, I didn’t know. It felt like it should have been four already. The seconds felt long, but the minutes felt longer still. I couldn’t seem to concentrate or focus my mind on anything. Information went in, but then it seemed to fall out the other side. It should not have taken me half the morning to complete a simple task, but I seemed to be useless and forgetful. Usually, I was efficient, but today? Well, today was turning out to be a shit show.

Out of sheer frustration and boredom, I typed my symptoms into the search engine. Symptoms of what, I didn’t know. I didn’t know what else to call them, and I refused to believe that I was having a bad day. I had bad days often enough that it didn’t bother me anymore. Humans gotta human after all. Shit happened, and life moved on. But this could not be a bad day. My bad days could not start getting this bad, otherwise, I’d have to start calling them worse days.

Leaning back in my swivel chair, I closed down the internet and sighed, doubting very much that, at twenty-eight, I had Alzheimer's, as the internet search had suggested. A dull headache had started to rest behind my ears, and I was feeling peckish. Deciding that I needed decent coffee to cure my headache, I stood up, grabbed my handbag, and made a quick exit.

Sitting outside in the warm sun, I held the coffee cup up to my face and inhaled deeply, the rich, bitter aroma filling my airways and nourishing my senses. I had become a caffeine fiend since taking this particular job a year earlier, and though I used to proudly exclaim that I wasn’t a coffee drinker, and look down upon those who did drink it to kickstart their day, I was now fully converted, and I had become an absolute slut for a good roasted brew.

I drank deeply from the to-go cup, and smiled to myself, rolling the delicious dark liquid over my tongue before swallowing. Already, I felt better. Out of nowhere, a small annoying voice at the back of my head piped up. ‘It’ll take more than coffee to relieve this headache.’ I questioned my own thoughts, wondering what the small voice had meant. ‘You need sex, not coffee,’ I heard it say. I took another swig from my coffee cup, trying to ignore it. ‘Sex not coffee. Sex not coffee,’ it said, repeating itself.

As much as I was annoyed with the little voice in the back of my mind, I knew it to be true. If there was a female version of a semen-retention headache, then surely I had it. Sex had managed to escape me for many months now, and while I knew it wouldn’t cure all my problems or suddenly change my life, having some at least would help. For sure, masturbation worked, helping to relieve some of that tension, but it wasn’t the same. There is only so much work fingers can do. I had a vibrator, but it sat in my bedside drawer, lonely and cold, all but forgotten about. I had christened the vibrator a she, but that was as far as I had gone. It may have been a she, but she didn’t have a name. She had run out of batteries more than a year ago now, and I had never bothered to replace them. One of these days, my need for better orgasms would rule over me, and I would get new batteries for she, the white bullet vibrator, but for now, she sat abandoned and forgotten, in the dark of my bedside cabinet.

By the time I walked up the street to my apartment, it was after eight, and it had turned unseasonably cold. I had let Sherri talk me into going out with her and Kim for a drink after work, but the night had been unsuccessful. The bar had been empty - they always are on Wednesdays, and while the large TV screen in the corner was playing a sports game of some description, it was not an important one. Not even the people I pegged to be regular barflies cared enough to pretend to watch it. And then there was Kim from accounting and her life story that for some unknown reason, Sherri was invested in. Not wanting to listen to her latest boyfriend drama, I had sat there drinking glass after glass of cheap red wine. I hadn’t caught the name of it when I asked the redhead with the DIY boob job what the house special was, but I didn’t need the name. It was cheap, it burned, and it got me nice and drunk.

I had thrown up in the toilets, the wine tasting a lot better coming back up than it did going down. It was a relief more than anything, really. Without the red wine sloshing around inside me, I was sure to only have a slight hangover the next day.

By the time I came out of the bathroom, I was thoroughly bored with the evening, not being able to stand the thought of spending another hour listening to Kim from accounting mourn over a lover who had moved on to a new relationship. Sherri pretended to beg me to stay after I had announced I was leaving, but her protests about my absence had been weak. “No Mindy, stay, please.” I had been the awkward, clunky third wheel of the night, and once I was gone, they could really start in on the gossip, and get to having some real fun. Fun that they otherwise couldn’t have while I was around. The night though hadn’t been a total failure with Kim from accounting branding me a bitch when I made a snide comment about her love life, and that if she stopped sleeping around, there would be no drama. I guess that had been one small success.

I dumped everything on the kitchen table as soon as I got home, and headed for the bathroom, unzipping and shimmying out of clothes as I walked through the apartment. By the time I had turned the water on and poured some rose oil into the tub, I was naked and feeling the prickles of a chill across my body. Walking back into the kitchen, I decided that a cup of tea would add to my relaxing experience while I had a nice, long soak in the bath.

The hot water consumed my body as I slipped below the surface, my toes cold and resting up against the sides of the tub. It was relaxing down here, under the water, with no one or nothing to disturb me, the only sounds were the distortions of my heartbeat in my ears. I had the urge to breathe, but I wasn’t alarmed. I was thinking that I could rather get used to being underwater. Eventually, though, the need for air was overwhelming, and I broke the surface of the hot bath water, splashing and spilling some of it over the sides of the tub.

The air was cold on my face as I took several big, gulping breaths, oxygen once more filling my lungs. Slicking back my damp hair, I rested my head on the edge of the tub, enjoying the hot stillness of the water, and closed my eyes.

I was awoken by the loud music floating down to my ears. Immediately, I sat upright, feeling disoriented. I was still in the tub, but I was cold now, the water having lost its heat. My cup of tea, untouched, was also stone cold. I had fallen asleep, and I was unsure for how long. Pulling my cold, wet body from the tub, I cursed the bastard that lived above me. Something had to be done, we couldn’t keep going on like this.

I walked briskly up the stairs, my anger and determination flowing through my body. This ended now. It had to, I was not having any more sleepless nights or bad days. I balled my hand into a fist and thumped on Asher’s door, the music even louder now that I was on his floor. Impatiently, I thumped again only a few seconds later. I could vaguely hear movement behind the door, but I still got no answer. I wasn’t, however, going to go away. I banged on the door again.

Asher answered the door, at first looking annoyed, but on seeing that I was the one doing the banging, his face changed to the smug expression I had come to hate. My confident anger had annoyingly vanished as soon as he opened the door. I had known exactly what I was going to say as I was marching up the stairs, and I had put the finishing touches to my argument as I knocked, but now the words failed me as if they had vanished into thin air.

He was standing there in a pair of satin boxer shorts, a sparse covering of dark hair on his pale chest. He was more muscular than I had imagined someone of his tall, lean frame to be. Somehow he looked bulkier now than when he wore clothes.

“Getting a good enough look?” he asked sarcastically.

Busted. My face grew hot and I quickly averted my gaze. “Listen up, asshole,” I said. “I will not have another sleepless night because of you. Turn the music down.”

“Not so fun now, is it?” he taunted.

“Because of your loud nighttime activities, I have not been able to sleep-”

“Night-time activities?” he asked, interrupting me and feigning innocence.

“The sex you have with all those women.” Asher was silent though, just staring at me. “Your fucking,” I hissed, wondering why I had to spell it out to him.

He turned his stupid face up into a smirk. “Oh please, you love hearing it.”

“You really think that?”

“I know it.”

“Whatever,” I replied, starting to leave, the cold of the corridor getting to me. I wanted nothing more than to turn in for the night and return once more to the warmth of my bed, so I could end this day.

“I know you sucked off the deputy of the company in the men’s bathroom at the staff Christmas party.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and slowly turned back around. How did he know that? I hadn’t told anybody, so it was impossible that he knew, unless? ‘Fuck,’ I thought. I had told Maria, and she was one of my friends that he had slept with. She must’ve let it slip.

“I know everything about you, Mindy.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t buy it. That’s one small piece of information that someone must’ve told you.”

“Your mother calls you all the time, but you don’t pick up the phone, and you never listen to the voicemails she leaves. On the odd chance that you do answer, you make an excuse not to see her, due to your strained relationship, after she cheated on your father and remarried a much younger man. You used to have a crush on him yourself, but now that he’s your step-father, you despise him.”

I couldn’t move. I wanted to turn around and leave, but I couldn’t. My body would not budge. It seemed I had somehow turned to stone, standing here, forced to listen to someone parrot my life story back to me.

“You were eighteen when you lost your virginity. You let Jack Campbell feel you up in the back of his parent’s car and after much convincing, you had sex. He promised to call you when he dropped you off home, but he never did. You were devastated, and you didn’t have sex for another two years after that.”

Asher smiled, doing his best to try and tease me, his words tickling my ears as they taunted me. I had never trusted his smile, it seemed an evil grin, a knowing grin. And now he really did seem to know. “In college, you slept with two of your older brother’s best friends. You also cheated on one of your finals, trading a handjob for the answers from one of the young professors. You were prepared to go all the way, but he was married, and didn’t want to commit to the infidelity."

In my frustration and embarrassment, I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to kick out and rage, but most of all, I wanted to cry. I wanted to burst into tears and hide away. It was as if he could see into my soul and read my innermost deep and personal thoughts.

“I know all the times you’ve taken drugs and been drunk. I know all the times you’ve called your ex, just so you can have sex again. I know that you want to lose weight because you think you’re fat, I know who you do and don’t like, and I know that you enjoy listening to me have sex.” Asher broke out in a smile again. Sarcastically, he then said, “Should I continue on?”

Before I could even begin to answer, he started to speak again. “You try to fight it, but it turns you on when you hear me fucking. You imagine my body and hers, you try to picture what it looks like, and what it feels like. You even try to imagine what it smells like.”

Asher was walking towards me now, slowly, staring straight into my eyes. His gaze looked different; his usually icy blue eyes were now dark gray, like storm clouds rolling in over the pale sky. An erection was tenting his boxer shorts, and quickly I stole a look at it. “You picture your body in places of hers, and you imagine what it’s like to fuck me. To have me inside you, to feel me inside you.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off once more. “Don’t deny it, Mindy, because I know.” He was in front of me now, and light as air, he traced his fingertips along my jaw. “I know what you think about when you’re alone or when you masturbate. I know your fantasies. I know how hungry you are for sex, and I know that you’re a dirty little bitch.”

I let out a whimper, and my pussy clenched. ‘Fuck!’ I thought. ‘How does he know?’

“You find my diary or something?” I asked, barely above a whisper, defiance still somehow in me.

“Oh, honey,” he said, slipping a hand inside my dressing gown and palming my tit. “That would be the easy answer.”

He rolled and pinched the nipple, and my knees almost buckled beneath me. I let out a breathy moan and closed my eyes, but as quickly as he started, he stopped, withdrawing his hand from where my dressing gown had fallen open.

I peeled my eyes open and saw Asher standing in his doorway, smiling at me.

I felt odd, but it was an odd odd type feeling. It was more than odd. It was a ‘the fuck just happened?’ sort of odd. Extra odd. I scanned everything in the corridor, wondering what had just happened, and if I had imagined everything. I felt all hot and bothered, the need for orgasmic release welling up inside me. I had the desperate urge to cum hard.

Something wasn’t right here. Something was up. I stared at Asher, puzzled, questioning everything, and if it really happened. His eyes switched back to that same gray as before, and it was unnerving. He wasn’t blinking, he was just staring, his eyes growing darker still. My eyes burned, and when next I blinked, I was naked and on his bed.

The feeling hit me like a freight train, the jump between being out in the cold corridor, and in his bedroom jarring. I felt disoriented, a million questions still on my mind. I had always known there was something about Asher, but I could never put a finger on it, but now I definitely knew. I could no longer deny it.

It was even more disconcerting when my ears pricked up as I heard Bach’s cello suite coming from the next room. Asher loomed in the doorway, and in the low light, I could see him smiling. Something was different about his grin, though.

His erection was protruding against the front of his boxers as he came into the room and stood near the edge of the bed. The all-too-familiar feeling of my own arousal was still strong, my nipples almost painfully hard, and my pussy dripping wet. I wanted to move, to sit up and take his cock in my mouth, but something was stopping me. Once more, I was glued to the spot, unable to move. “All in good time,” he said teasingly.

My senses were heightened, as I lay on my back on top of his big bed. I had always imagined what it would be like to be laying here, perhaps underneath him. I had heard the bedsprings a million times, but from this side, they sounded different somehow, as they groaned under the weight of Asher, who was now on the bed. It tickled somewhat, as he ran his fingers up my legs, and I twitched as he found the back of my knee and stroked the sensitive skin.

He did not dwell on the sensitive underside of my legs, however. He pushed higher, brushing my thighs, and instinctively I parted them. “You are hungry for sex, aren’t you?” I could hear the satisfaction in his words. I could hear him smiling proudly to himself.

Like a bastard, he teased my pussy lightly, his expert touch gentle. He would find my clit, working it gently, only to retreat when I moaned or made a noise of satisfaction. I huffed in frustration several times, as he continued to tease me, slipping a finger inside my pussy, and then withdrawing it as soon as I made any noise of enjoyment. He, of course, got off on the teasing and the denial, several times, telling me that all I had to do was beg, and he would offer me release, but I couldn’t. I knew it was what he wanted to hear from me, and somehow, I was still feeling defiant, even in the face of the power he somehow had over me. I didn’t know what was going on, or what he was doing to me, but at that moment, all I knew was that I needed to cum.

Asher finally broke me when he fingered me near to orgasm, bringing me so close to the edge that I was sure I could cum without having to play his silly games and beg him. My senses were alive, goosebumps had broken out over my skin, I was close, and then he stopped. Just as I was about to make that orgasmic leap, he stopped and pulled his fingers from my sodden cunt.

I groaned. I was so frustrated. This, of course, spurred him on. “Beg for it,” he told me. “All you have to do is beg me.”

I felt his fingers on my pussy again, tracing over the stubbly hairs that had started to grow back from when I had last shaved. ‘Oh God,’ I thought. I broke. I begged him for release. “Please.”

“Please, what?” he asked.

“Please, I want to cum,” I breathed, his finger at the entrance to my pussy.

“Surely, you can do better than that.”

“Please, I need it. God, Asher, please.”

He slipped two fingers inside me roughly, and frigged me off hard. Bach was still playing from the other room, but the noise that was now loudest in my ears was the sounds of my wet pussy as he fingered me to orgasm. I came hard, my lower body clenching as the orgasm washed through me.

“What else do you need?” he asked, not slowing down.

“Cock,” I said, only just managing to get the word out between moans. He stopped as soon as I said it, my cunt now empty, yet soaking wet and tingling. He whipped his boxer shorts off in a flash, and pressed the head of his cock to my lips, standing next to me, turning my head. Eagerly, I accepted the hard cock that was trying to gain access to my mouth, sucking on the head and swirling my tongue over it.

“I know what else you did at that staff party,” he said, starting to thrust into my mouth. “And my, my, my, it was very dirty, wasn’t it?” I moaned around the cock in my mouth, my pussy still pulsing from the finger fucking it had just received. “You rimmed him as well, didn’t you? And tongued his balls.” I moaned again. “Dirty bitch,” he said. He then added, “And I approve.”

His fingers were soft, and his movements were gentle as he ran his hands through my hair, however, that was not to last very long, as he grabbed a fistful of hair, my head jerking so that he could thrust his cock back and forth into my mouth.

Bach’s cello suite gently came to a close as Asher fucked my face, the smell of pussy strong in the air. Another piece of classical music started up, but it was one I did not recognise. A sarcastic and cutting remark played across my mind, but with a mouthful of cock, I had no opportunity to say it. He pressed his shaft down my throat, and I gagged but managed to hold it. He pulled his cock out of my mouth, and I smiled as I looked up at him, the head of his cock only just resting on my chin. I listened out for the music again, hoping that I could find something familiar about it, but I couldn’t. It was slightly sinister sounding. Shostakovich? Vivaldi? I really couldn’t tell. Grieg? ‘No, not Grieg,’ I decided.

“What are you, a nineteenth-century villain or something?” I remarked.

Asher smirked, sliding his cock back into the warmth of my mouth. “Yes,” he hissed, his face contorting in pleasure. “I am.”

He flashed that bastard grin of his, my eyes widening in horror when I saw them. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t bite. Not unless you ask me too.”

In a flash, his cock was in my throat again, and his hands were pulling my hair. I gagged and moaned around the stiff shaft in my mouth, wondering about the implications of fucking a man who claimed to be a vampire, although, for all I knew, the fangs could’ve been fake. But too much was starting to make sense about Asher. The fact that he was never out during daylight hours, how he had known all my secret desires and read my memories.

Any rational thoughts were pushed aside as he fucked my face, his cock hitting the back of my throat. My pussy was once again needy, and I was aching with a desire to be filled. “You ready to be fucked?” he asked, seeming to once more read my mind. Abruptly, his cock was out of my mouth and he was on top of me, my legs already spread and waiting.

I inhaled sharply as his cock ravaged my pussy, the air cold against my teeth. I wrapped my legs around him, drawing him deeper inside me, his thick cock filling me as we fucked. Asher lay his forehead on the bed by my shoulder, and I felt something sharp teasing the skin. Several times as he fucked me hard I felt his sharp teeth on my neck, but he never bit down, he only ever teased. I was fearful, yes, but it somehow added to the horniness of our rough coupling. The thrill of it all was exhilarating, and as I approached orgasm again, I decided that even if he did bite me, I wouldn’t care.

“I’m gonna cum,” I moaned.

Asher slowed right down, and the feeling faded. The bastard was going to make me beg for it again. “You know what to say,” he taunted. I saw a flash of his fangs as he smiled mockingly. He pulled his cock out all the way, my legs that were wrapped around him, falling away. He was making the slightest of movements, the tip of his cock teasing my wet cunt. “Beg me.”

My need and desire overwhelmed me, and for the second time that night, the bastard broke my resolve. “Please,” I moaned. “Please fuck me.”

He rammed his cock all the way inside me and fucked me hard, his hips slamming into my own. “Cum,” he said. “Cum, dirty bitch.”

I lost myself in the moment and surrendered my senses, my pussy on fire as Asher fucked me. I felt him trace his fangs over the sensitive skin of my neck, and before I even knew what I was saying, I was begging him to not only let me cum, but to bite me.

We came at the same time. As my body let go and my cunt gushed with my orgasm, so did his cock unleash his cum inside me. His teeth sank down into the delicate skin, the pleasure and pain of it all twisting and twirling together, my body feeling like one big messy heap.

I was awoken by the loud music floating down to my ears. Immediately, I sat upright, feeling disoriented. I was still in the tub, but I was cold now, the water having lost its heat. My cup of tea, untouched, was also stone cold. I had fallen asleep, and I was unsure for how long. Pulling my cold, wet body from the tub, I felt a twinge in my neck. Grimacing, I slowly put two fingers to the skin and gently touched the area. It stung, and I sucked in cold air through my teeth.

I was dripping wet, shivering, and cold as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Turning my head to the side, I saw two small, bright red bite marks. ‘Oh God,’ I thought, horrified. 'What have I done?’

In my mind, I heard Asher laughing, clear as anything, as if he was standing right there next to me. “You’re mine forever, now,” I heard him say.