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Emiya looked up when he the telltale noise of his door opened. He cocked his head, then sighed when he recognized the pattern of the thunderous footfalls that steadily approached.
"Can you believe it?" roared the woman, who came into view, her tinted glasses practically askew. "She's seeing him again! Again! After all the many times I-" She made a growl, not unlike a beast, and slammed her head down on the tiled sink.
After a brief pause, Emiya said, "I'm cooking something Italian. Would you like some tea, Carmilla?"
The silver-haired beauty self-styled the Blood Countess lifted her head up, exposing her pale, ethereal features, currently twisted into an expression like she were chewing on a particularly sour lemon. "Would I want tea? Of course I want tea! I also want a lot of other things. Eternal beauty. Pretty things. Most of all though, I want my 'self' to not be an idiot, but it seems like we can't have everything in life. But sure, Archer, sure. Give me tea."
Normally clad for battle in a gothic dress, today's Carmilla was clothed in her "stalking gear": thick turtleneck sweater to hide her innate voluptuousness, a brunette wig to disguise her distinct silver-blonde hair, face-mask, and then a pair of thick, tinted glasses to complete the ensemble.
Turning around to attend to his cooking, Emiya shrugged and said blandly, "So she's seeing him again. I can't be assed to be surprised at this point. His 'official' girlfriend's about the same body type, if I remember correctly." And he did. Vividly.
"Oh, look at you, so smug. You're just a proud little man aren't you, sooo proud about him that he's picking up women left and right. Oh, they aren't just your average little strumpet, they're heroes! I thank you." She interrupted her tirade just enough to accept his proffered cup of tea, which she proceeded to down like it was a shot of liquor. "Pah! Heroes, strong glorious shades of the past, all fawning over his limp, pathetic penis like it was the Tower of Babel."
"I don't think it's that big," Emiya said absently.
"And somehow that gives you validation, Emiya? Somehow that makes you a cocky little shit? Holed up in here all humble-like, oh, look at me cooking dinner, all so proud that my younger self is dating Elizabeth Bathory, that cute little minx, poking his baby-maker in her tight hot cunt until she squeals like a scared little piggy. You must be thinking 'Praise be, I'm good, I'm Emiya Shirou, I can do anything, I can bang any girl I want because I'm firing out pheromones like nothing. Today Elizabeth, tomorrow Artoria's son, then the next day my old master Rin. The next day I'll do the Gorgon, and the next I'll go to the apartment of that blue Lancer's teacher and teach her something new.' A date on every damned calendar, while that bitch refuses to listen to reason! Why the hell am I shacking up with you?"
Emiya chanced to glance around, did a double-take and clucked his tongue. "I'm still cooking."
"Shut up and fuck me," said Carmilla. He beheld a rare apparition behind him where the dark-dressed woman had been, a body of snow-white skin, perfect, glowing, tinged with a small red flush along her neck; a luscious, buxom body, pert breasts like twin globes of perfection, smooth abdomen framed against a slender waist, and shapely, thick thighs that lent much to the imagination. She still had her stockings on, black and accentuating the curves on her legs. She was as a picture of divine beauty, and one need not wonder how, in the legends, she'd acquired such pristine perfection, like a genius' marble sculpture given life. She toyed with the muffler that was still around her neck, like a decorative wrapper around a present that needed to be unraveled before glimpsing the full thing.
The only other thing to comment on was her fierce expression: of lust mixed with frustration, the animalistic need for release be it from anyone or anything. Left to her own devices this Carmilla may well have gone out to find some innocent woman to abduct and torment-it was the current circumstances that led to her seeking pleasure from him. Again and again.
Emiya shrugged and turned off the gas. Before he could even get around the counter, she was already there, their lips meeting in a frenzied confluence of tongues and saliva. Her stockinged legs latched around his hips, spreading her smooth, shaven entrance and pinning it against his crotch; and she held on like a monkey as she gently got to undressing him, careful not to use her long, claw-like nails to rip the fabric. (He'd told her off on just using those nails to rip things apart, shit was expensive.)
In the meantime he pumped his legs and moved them out of the kitchen, stopping short of the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, as Carmilla had begun pumping his hardening erection when she'd loosed it from his his pants, and he had to stop to lean against the wall to avoid falling down. The woman's hot and horny breaths smelled good and pleasant; her pale smooth skin, supple and pliant to the touch. The way she sought dominance with her tongue reminded him of his first time with the woman, an experience that had been almost a battle in itself.
It had been a routine bartending job, as a favor to one of his friends in the city. It was in that bar that a certain Emiya Shirou and Elizabeth Bathory had had their first dates, who were also being stalked in that moment by Carmilla. Somewhere between the end of his shift, he was roped into stalking the couple together with the crazed woman, who had then gone apoplectic when Bathory had dragged Shirou to the apartment she and Carmilla shared. Emiya's ambiguous feelings on his estranged younger self aside (and the fact he was a. openly cheating on Saber and b. he'd chosen Elizabeth Bathory of all people), the woman had almost tried to start a battle right then and there, and it was only his quick thinking with a kiss that stopped it. One kiss had become another, and then another kind of fight began.
Then, and now, Carmilla demonstrated a competitiveness in sex, from the foreplay all the way up to the end. In mere moments since they stopped at the hallway she'd taken his pants and slithered them down his legs like a snake, all without letting go of him; and while still hanging on she'd flung his shirt up and out. Now chocolate brown and ivory-pale skin mashed together in a melding of frenzied colors as their lust-crazed battle begun in earnest.
The sultry nymph deftly stroked his cock with one hand while tweaking his nipples with her other hand, using her nails to especially excite. As his mouth was occupied with her invading tongue Emiya responded with a salvo of attacks on her exposed, undefended cunt, looping his arms under her legs to tease and roll his fingers over her nethers. Although he wouldn't admit it, he had been Shirou once, and in his time such things as pleasing women became trivial. As such, in tune with his throbbing, well-primed cock, her smooth cunny began leaking fluids, which he readily cupped and rubbed all over her crotch and ass, until her asscheeks and thighs glowed with an otherworldly sheen, like moonlight.
"Mphh... aah... you ready to cum, Emiya Shirou, ready to cum all over this perfect body?" she said, using her teeth to grip his lip. She squeezed his glans, and now used both hands to pump his cock, like she were squeezing a banana out from its skin. The brief sensation of her claws grazing the skin on his member made it twitch all the more.
"Don't call me that," he replied, freeing his mouth and temporarily retreating to strike her untouched breasts. He captured her nipples with a bite, which made her moan appreciatively, which was then reciprocated by her latching on to his ear and biting down hard. Undeterred, Emiya began switching back and forth between her nipples, biting one then the other, approaching a rhythm so quick there was a bridge of saliva now linking the two peaks like an impromptu piece of jewelry. All the while the heat and pleasure in their respective genitals grew, each side refusing to give up by giving in and cumming. Though Emiya could sense she was as close as him, as the grip of her legs around him had slackened, her pussy quivering under his incessant touches, while his knees had gone weak, his body acknowledging the need to relax and ejaculate.
"Enough!" she said, just as he was seeing stars in his vision. She removed her cunt from him and unlatched her legs. Emiya didn't need to be told anymore-foreplay was over. She waited as he carried her up in his arms, bridal-style, dashing his way up the stairs and on to his bedroom. While the hallway and kitchen were perfectly usable environments, he knew a noble dragon like Carmilla wanted an actual bed to fornicate and luxuriate in. It was honestly part of her charm, though she'd definitely scratch him like a cat if he ever mentioned that out loud.
He tossed her onto the bed unceremoniously, and leaped after her like an impatient beast in heat. Her teeth glittered as she grinned in half-madness and half-lust, her legs spread open, ready to take him. He snorted and flipped her over on her back, driving her head down on his mattress as he mounted her from behind, and with no protest from her part.
It didn't take long for his rod to pierce her insides: hot, slippery, and just as tight as it had always been. Carmilla keened and whined in delight as he speared her, sheathing himself fully in her fleshpot. They each exhaled mightily and sharply, immersed in the lovely feel of the other's genitals. Emiya for his part felt like he was in heaven in her slimy folds.
"Get ready, Carmilla, I'm going to fuck you now." He grabbed hold of her arms and raised them up, holding them like a horse's reins, and forcing her perfectly contoured back to arc back. He pulled his penis out, hissing through his teeth at the pleasurable sensation of her around him, and stopped just short of the entrance. He paused for a moment, the tip of his hot, throbbing penis teasing her slit.
"Oh, get on with it, boy," she replied with no small amount of snark, even muffled in the pillow.
With a loud, possessive grunt, Emiya's hips rushed forward and smacked into her milky pale buttocks, his shaft splitting her through. Then his quick, piston-like motions began to dig into the Blood Countess' wet, shining nethers, his dark, turgid member like an obscene thing invading and corrupting the pink, delicate, flower-like shape of her shaved entrance.
As said, Carmilla was a competitive lay. She pushed back with each of his thrusts, and squeezed down on his shaft whenever he reached her innermost depths, the slimy friction sending a white-hot jolt that fried his brain, edging him closer to losing the battle by cumming.
"As... expected... of the boy... you're still..." said Carmilla, speaking as if she were confident in winning this bout.
Emiya, of course, had no intention of losing at all, so he struck back by striking certain spots within of her he knew she loved. And right on schedule her amused grunts became pained, heated whines, as she fought desperately to gain advantage. Their combined sweatstains began accumulating on the bed as their bodies took on the luster of a pair of creatures in the throes of deepest passion, their fluids intermixing wherever their skin touched. Carmilla's skin to his eyes took on a pale, pearlescent sheen, like moonlight reflected on the lake's surface-and every loud smack of their hips crashing into each other caused ripples to form through her body, distorting the placid, peaceful image with marked lewdness.
It was still rather disconcerting to see this woman, normally portraying herself as a formidable femme fatale, cold and arrogant, break and melt into a woman fully embracing her sexuality like this. But he had seen proof of that, all the way back on their first night. After a fierce and frenzied piece of lovemaking just like this moment, (though she was far more liberal with using her nails) as they'd spooned on the bed, Carmilla had up and collapsed, shaking, burrowing herself in his arms like she were seeking shelter from a lover's embrace. That was when he'd gained sympathy for the woman, and bore her unreasonable requests and attitude with marked patience.
At the least, that's what he thought lay beneath her facade. Still, there should be little point faking it to him-he was literally a nobody, so why should she have to put on airs to fool him? In consequence, Emiya humored her many attempts at controlling her younger self, through all the failures, the nights of hysterical screaming, the fucking-for a Heroic Spirit she was still, in essence, human, with all the flaws.
Plus, she was a good fuck. Even now, as he let go of her arms and focused on ramming his cock as hard and purposeful as he could into her, he felt an endless surge of of heady pleasure from gripping her sweaty, slippery buttocks, which were like a pair of perfectly shaped, squeezable moons, flushed to a slight pink from the repeated smacking of their hips. It was a feeling that always came from fucking a beautiful woman raw and hard.
"Oh... gkkk... Oh...!" Unable to form words she screamed into her pillow as their respective climaxes collided in a thunderous cacophony that sent white spots blooming in his eyes, his cock sinking as far as it could inside as his balls emptied a full load into her. Her pussy felt like it were squeezing him relentlessly without end, sucking up all the cum from his shaft without respite. Emiya gave in to the ultimate expression of pleasure, basking in the soothing afterglow of sex with his eyes shut.
"I just don't understand it," she said, moments later, after they'd switched positions-him sitting back on the bed and her straddling him, though at the moment she was just putting life back to his cock by stroking it idly. "What does she see in him? I certainly don't see it on you. She could get any man she wanted, could even go without a man most times. I'd know. I was her." She looked at him solemnly as he ran his palm over her warm belly, underneath of which the fruit of their union percolated-though nothing would of course come of it, as they were both Servants. Sometimes Emiya fantasized about making a child with a woman, and although there were a couple of other women he'd prefer to have them with, this Carmilla was... slightly behind them, at the top.
"I wouldn't know. What do you see in me?" said Emiya, with a sardonic shrug.
"A miserable figure. A man on a solitary, lonely quest," she said quietly. "Yet you are certainly... passionate about certain things. And stubborn enough to put up with another person's stubbornness. You'd make for a fine wife, but as a man?" She chuckled, and squeezed his glans pointedly. "As I keep telling 'myself', she needs to go and find herself someone new. Someone raw and... and powerful. She'll grow up thinking a good dicking's the only thing to expect from a man, if 'you're' half as good as you are now. And that sort of thinking'll just lead her to bad situations, time and again. Like sharing a fling with a tall, dark and... handsome man, night after night, never knowing when to stop, always wishing for the next... big... climax..."
They ended up salvaging dinner for a brief rest in the middle of the night, but all in all they never caught much sleep. And he was much pleased that she never once used her nails.
()()()()()
"Can you believe that little chit?" Carmilla said again, storming into his house like she owned the place. "I overheard her talking about a threesome with that vile Tohsaka! A threesome! Does she have no shame? No dignity? No pride in herself?"
"Yeah, uhhh... tea's on the stove, just get it yourself..." Emiya said, a little distracted, his breathing harsh and heated.
"Never mind that, I need to use your phone. I need to spread the word... my apologies, Emiya, but that doppelganger of yours is too much."
"It's in the living room," he said, and was relieved to see her go back out of the kitchen. His breath hitched when he felt a brief jolt of pleasure shoot up his spine. He looked down at the woman bobbing her head up and down over his cock, who'd heard Carmilla and yet hadn't let up her blowjob. And by the looks of it she wasn't going to be stopping. Then he froze, almost ejaculating, when the woman's cellphone on the counter rang-undoubtedly she was the first Carmilla contacted. He swallowed-the Blood Countess would inevitably put two and two together, and then...
This was definitely going to be awkward.
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