Guest Halloween erotica: Cold stone

Image by the brilliant Stuart F Taylor

As someone who has never fully exited her goth phase, I’m a big fan of Halloween erotica. You’ll find a tonne of spooky and supernatural guest content here on the site if you know where to look. From beasts that chase you semi-naked through the forest to demons that fuck you in hell. Creatures with tentacles, powerfully sexy ghosts, and even a lost ghost ship… Yeah. I fucking love this stuff. So this year when I did a shoutout for Halloween erotica, I was delighted when Ash (check out Ash’s website here and follow on Mastodon here!) got in touch with a kickass, atmospheric and beautifully horny twist on graveyard sex. Enjoy!

Cold stone

She’d always had a thing for cemeteries. The sense of transgression, the forbidden. She’d taken many a lover’s hand on a dark night, and told him to lay down on the cold slabs of marble, as she rode him. There was something poetic about it… receiving the seed of life, in a place filled with death.

Her date tonight had seemed like a dud at first. They’d had drinks and chatted, but he just seemed to exude dreariness from his pores. He had no real opinions, didn’t read books. He watched movies, but mostly Marvel stuff. He worked an office job, but mostly just seemed to drift through life.

She was at the verge of cutting the date short, when she heard him say:

“… but that was back in my goth phase.”

She shook herself out of her reverie, and asked:

“Your goth phase?”

“Oh yeah, would you believe it? I did the full thing, the black clothes, eyeliner, hanging out in cemeteries and trying to commune with the dead. The stuff you do when you’re young, right?”

She arched an eyebrow at him. He looked mid-thirties at the latest. Some people settled into their golden years early, she guessed. Still… tonight might not be a total loss.

“How would you like to feel young again?”

“Heh, that would be quite the trick. What do you have in mind?”

Without speaking, she dropped some cash on the table to settle their bill, and took his hand. When he seemed reluctant to follow, she leaned in close, breathing hotly into his ear:

“Come on, it will be fun!”

That seemed to have raised his temperature enough to get him moving, and he hurried to grab his coat and follow.

The moon was full, casting its pale cold light on the wet streets. The sky was clear enough to see some stars, despite the lights of the city. As they walked, he seemed to come to life more. His posture relaxed, he started telling stories about his travels around Europe, the friends he hung out with. She was really starting to like this hidden side to him. Maybe, just maybe this might be going somewhere after all.

The old city cemetery was large and sprawling. The wrought-iron gate no longer closed, so they didn’t even need to sneak in. With practised steps, she turned towards the older section of the cemetery, with graves from the 19th century. She enjoyed the old style decor, the skulls and cross-bones, the opulent monuments on some graves.

She turned to look at him, and her breath caught. Something had changed. She wasn’t quite sure, but his posture was different. The set of his shoulders, the angle of his jaw, and his eyes… his eyes were most definitely different. They were still the same pale blue, but where the colour had struck her as washed out before, they now reminded her of winter days.

Unwilling to relinquish the initiative completely, she gave him a sly smile and stepped closer.

“Feeling younger yet?”

“Getting there…”

She kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. This close he smelled pleasantly musky. Sharp, with a wild edge. The kiss was electric, wiping away the last doubts she’d held. He would do very nicely indeed.

Her hand moved down his stomach, slowly coming to rest at his groin. She was slightly disappointed to feel no bulge there, he was still completely soft. She knew how to fix that though.

As she made to sink to her haunches, he stopped her and pulled her upright again. He didn’t speak, but gently shook his head and took her by the hand instead.

He led her to a particularly opulent grave. A huge statue of an angel was looking down with a stern expression, and the old marble still had some of its former shine. He spread out his coat on the slab, and with a slight bow, he gestured for her to lay down. She couldn’t quite tell if he was mocking her or not, and his expression gave nothing away.

This was an interesting change of pace from what she was used to. She decided to humour him and see where it went. She sat down and leaned back a little, allowing her dress to creep up her thighs. She could see the hunger flare in his eyes.

They kissed again, and he pushed her back further, until she was lying flat on the slab. His teeth grazed her ear, the tip of his tongue tracing a trail down her neck. Shivers ran down her spine, and her nipples hardened. That did not go unnoticed. His hand slid inside the top of her dress, as he kissed her again, more hungrily this time. She could feel the heat of him, the raw need, but his movements were meticulous and controlled.

His fingers played with her nipples, sending waves of heat coursing through her while his teeth grazed the skin on her neck. The stone-faced angel was staring impassively down at her, but now that she was this up close she noticed details that had not been apparent before. The wings were not featured, but scaled like a serpent, or maybe a dragon?

Then her attention was pulled back right in the here and now, as his fingers traced a path up her thighs, hitching up her dress. He looked deeply into her eyes as the tips of his fingers traced her lips through her panties.

He kept gazing at her as his fingers pushed the panties to the side and slid inside her, curling upwards to her g-spot. His thumb pressed gently on her clit, in small circular motions. A moan escaped her throat, and she felt herself tense up. His mouth found her nipple, and he held it between his teeth as his fingers kept working. The movements, the location, the direct line between her nipple and her cunt… she could feel the tension building inside her.

He must have sensed it too, since he moved with her, rode the waves with him until her orgasm crashed down on her, soaking his hand in her juices.
She opened her eyes and watched him licking his fingers with exaggerated relish. Hungrily, she grabbed his belt and pulled him towards her. As she made to unbuckle the belt, he stopped her.

“Nothing’s happened down there in a long time. It’s a medical thing. But…”

He licked the last bit of her juices from his fingers with a grin.

“If you’d do me the honour of riding my face, I’d make it worth your while.”

He laid down on the slab himself, and gently she kneeled down over him, facing the tombstone. She tried to make out the name, but time had faded it so badly that it was nearly illegible. RVTHVN? Was that Welsh?

Again she didn’t get to finish the thought, as his tongue found her clit, and his hand slid between them, fingers sliding deep inside her. This time the waves came even faster and harder. His tongue on her clit was maddening, and a few times she thought she even felt his teeth, but with each second it was becoming harder to think. Pressure built up inside her like a tidal wave, and she already felt her juices dripping down her thighs, onto his face and into his eager mouth. Every push of his fingers drove her closer to the edge, her hands clawing the stone, clutching.

Every muscle in her body tightened and a wave of pleasure crashed down on her. Stars blinked in her vision and she was only half aware of flooding his face. Somewhere very far in the back of her mind she felt a stab of embarrassment, but right now it was too far away.

As she lay there looking at the stars, he wiped his face clean and stood up.

“You know, I usually don’t bring girls home on the first date, but you’re something else.”

Her brain was still half addled from coming so hard, and she wondered what he was talking about. He continued.

“All that talk about blood being the life… they’re missing the point. It’s not the blood, it’s the vitality. And your juices… they have more life than all the blood in your body.”

Details fell into place. His sharp fangs. The name on the tombstone. Not RVTHVEN but RUTHVEN. Lord Ruthven. The Vampyre. Her eyes widened in shock, and she tried to crawl away.

He smiled at her.

“Don’t worry, I’m full. You’re safe. And now…”

He undid his pants, and now his cock stood to full attention. He grinned impishly at her.

“So, how about round three?”


If you liked this hot vampire story, check out more Halloween erotica here and visit Ash’s website for more of his work! He’s also just published his first book – Only The Living Feel Remorse. Horror fans, check it out! 

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