Happy Halloween, Pervward

Warning: some might find this somewhat offensive. If you are seriously offended when reading about various sexual activities and perhaps, perversions, ya might want to hit back on the browser. If you are not old enough to read or buy porn, stop here.

Renfield's Syndrome, or Clinical Vampirism: is named after the mythical vampire, and is a recognizable, although rare, clinical entity characterized by periodic compulsive blood-drinking, affinity with the dead and uncertain identity. It is hypothetically the expression of an inherited archaic myth, the act of taking blood being a ritual that gives temporary relief. [1]

The words glared back at him as he studied the computer screen.

"No, surely not," he muttered under his breath. It wasn't like he wanted to suck her dry - if that were even possible! - he just wanted a taste, a drop if you will.

Was it really so strange? he mused. People shared all manners of bodily fluids after all, and no one thought anything of it. He'd watched countless women suck and swallow copious amounts of cum off of cocks. Watched, in the sense that he'd masturbated to the flickering images on the Internet porn sites he so often frequented.

So, was it really that different? And it wasn't as if he wanted to taste just anyone's blood.

"Dr. Cullen," a sharp voice called. "Are you coming? We're waiting. Would you care to join us?"

Bella Swan was quite possibly the most sexual creature he'd ever encountered. Everything about her drew his attention. And he swore that she selected her daily attire directly from his personal horny-secretary-librarian fantasy closet. Of course, fucking your boss, or even imagining fucking your boss, was generally a poor decision. Not that she would ever consent to him.

Today her ass looked divine, like something that you could eat, like candy. He wasn't sure how she had managed to pour herself into that skirt but he was incredibly grateful for her efforts. It was ridiculously tight and it was perfectly obvious to Edward's well-trained eye that she was wearing no panties underneath. Looking around the room as she bent over to pick up her pen, it became apparent that this fact had not escaped any other male's attention as well. They were all salivating over those luscious mounds of flesh.

"Gentlemen, if you will turn your attention to slide number eleven in the handout. We need to review the status of all of your individual research projects," she started. He would have gladly obliged her had he not been acutely focused on the pen cap that she was rolling along her lips, entirely too reminiscent of last night's beat off fantasy.

"Dr. Cullen? You're up."

"Um, er, what?" he blurted, having heard only his name being called.

"Your project. We're on slide thirteen now. Beta formulation 01-63A7P. Your protoporphyria formulation. Progress?" she answered, clearly annoyed by his distraction.

"Erm, right," he said, clearing his throat as he quickly shoved out of his head those oh-so-pleasant images of Bella Swan on her knees sucking him off. With characteristic clinical impassiveness, Edward launched into a dry, detached summary of his recent findings. "Well, the most recent variations show remarkable stability, far greater than I had surmised initially."

Droning on, he mused, "Really, quite intriguing and unexpected. Removing the amine group from the C3 position and repositioning to the C5 addressed several of my original degeneration problems. I believe that I'll be ready to move to rodent trial by the end of the quarter."

"You mean bat trials," howled Emmett McCarty. The whole table erupted in inappropriate amusement at his joke.

Edward's face shaded crimson in embarrassment. His skin mirrored the rage simmering underneath at his public slight.

"Have you tested your little cure on Lestan yet?" he laughed. Again, the table roared at his expense.

"It's Lestat, asshole," Edward muttered under his breath.

Emmett McCarty was a real motherfucker, not to mention a piss-poor scientist. His degree was from some top-notch university - one that supposedly turned out equally top-notch scientists - but Edward viewed it as nothing but a piddling, paper pushing school with no real theoretical meat. In agreement with his assessment, Emmett McCarty had yet to turn out a single lead. Really, the only things he seemed to study were the pussies of half the female staff.

Currently, he was fucking Bella Swan's secretary, Rosalie Hale. Edward knew this because he had caught them humping in the break room a little more than a week ago. Their coupling hadn't really bothered Edward; in fact it'd provided him additional spank bank material. Edward had walked in just as Emmett had had Rosalie splayed out across the table, fucking her senseless. Thankfully, Edward's eyes had been drawn away from Emmett's cock to Rosalie's rather large tits hanging out of her sweater. The bouncing was what did it, those glorious bouncing tits nearly slapping her in the face. Edward had needed to quickly excuse himself from the scene, running to the men's room before he creamed himself.

"Ahem," coughed Bella. "Dr. McCarty. I'm so glad you brought your sense of humor to the meeting. How about you go next? Why don't you share with the group all of the progress that you've made on, wait, what it is it? Oh, yes, your 'female libido enhancement' formulation. Have you made it past literature searches yet? Because I certainly haven't seen anything from you in the last six months."

That shut the fucker up.

~O.o~

Later that afternoon, Edward peered into his microscope, concentrating on the abnormal cell patterns of the sample. He noted the discoloration and apparent cell death with satisfaction.

"So, are you coming?" Bella called from across the lab.

"Oh, um, what?" he stuttered, not having heard her enter the room. He briefly acknowledged the sexual connotation in her statement. Edward vaguely wondered if she could read minds, especially considering the fact that he'd just come back from another trip to the men's room. Between the tightness of her skirt and the pen mouth-fucking, he'd had no choice in the matter.

"Tomorrow night. You know... the Halloween party?" she laughed.

He was mesmerized by the husky quality of her voice and stammered out, "I, oh, uh, I don't really think anyone wants me there. You see, I'm, well, I'm not really what you'd call social."

Genius? Yes. PhD/MD by twenty-five from Johns Hopkins. Would have been twenty-four had he not insisted on completing a series of experiments 'for fun'. Accomplished? Yes. Edward had more peer reviewed journal articles than any other scientist on the staff, he was chair of his regional scientific society, and he was often called upon by government health agencies for his opinions and reviews. Additionally, he was a gifted pianist.

Attractive? Sometimes. If he could tame the nest of red-bronzed hair on his head. He was extremely fit from regular exercise, having little else to do after work. And supposedly women seemed to find his bright green eyes alluring. Of course, none of this helped get him laid because the moment he opened his mouth, the probability of sexual success plummeted. For some reason, women did not seem to appreciate his lectures on biochemistry.

So, attractive? Yes. Socially adept? Resounding no.

In fact, Edward was the very opposite of socially adept. A virtual social pariah, Edward was the equivalent of a teenaged, pimply-faced band geek who wanked off to dirty horse-fucking pictures. His version of social included sitting at home on Friday nights masturbating to pay-per-view live Internet porn or reading from his massive stash of vampire erotica.

"I think you should come. Show these assholes up. Plus, I'd like it if you came. To the party that is. It would be nice having someone normal there to talk to," Bella pressed with a suggestive wink.

His throat caught and he wondered if she realized how many times she'd used various conjugations of the verb 'to come'. Perhaps this was some sick ploy, another way to embarrass him.

"I, well-," he started.

Interrupting him, her tongue darted out from between her lips and ran along her bottom lip, a lip stained red with lipstick. Blood red, to be precise.

"Well, I, I don't really have a costume. And I'm really not that creative. I wouldn't know what to come as."

There I go, using her verb, he thought.

She smiled and teethed her lower lip in consideration. She eyed him up and down from lock to toe. Edward thought that he saw her momentarily pause her gaze as she passed over his crotch.

"Why don't you come as Lestan," she winked again and then chuckled playfully.

Automatically, and without thinking, he accidentally corrected her, "It's Lestat."

She grinned, lifted her finger under his chin, and purred seductively, "Oh, I know."

Bella swayed towards the door and called back, "See you tomorrow. I'll be your first bite."

The moment she'd turned around Edward reached down to adjust himself. The effect this woman had on him was maddening.

In his regular stall, he roughly pumped his cock, fisting long, hard strokes down his length and twisting the tip on the upstroke. He panted a heavy, fast rhythm as he visualized the black lace peeking out from the top of Bella Swan's low cut blouse. "Naughty Bella, fucking cocktease. I'll show you bite alright," he muttered under his breath, urging his orgasm on. With one last, forceful thrust into his hand, he came to the image of clamping his mouth down on the smooth, milky skin just below her ear as he pounded her tight pussy.

~O.o~

Edward spent the entire next day compiling his costume for the party. As a scientist, he was, if nothing else, thorough. He pulled out his old books, shabby from use, to consult what exactly a 'Lestat' costume was comprised of. He was fortunate that he'd kept the violet lenses and fang tips from a previous - and unmentionable - role-playing game he'd tried. For his attire, he settled on a fluffy, ruffled, white button up from the women's department at Macy's.

The pants were more difficult. He wanted the edgy, black leather look that he'd imagined on occasion. Macy's did not have black leather pants for men. And the women's didn't fit his six-foot tall height. Thinking quickly, he paid a visit to a local smut shop, one that seemed to cater to a particular BDSM audience. He easily found pants that fit his needs; although, they did seem slightly tight in the crotch and thus enhanced the appearance of his size. It was an acceptable effect.

He was intrigued by the whips and collars, as well as items he couldn't put a name to. Edward left the shop with new, shiny pants and images of Bella modeling some new accessories, namely those dangerous looking nipple clamps.

Checking himself in the mirror, Edward realized that his hair was a lost cause. Short of a wig, there was no way he could sport the shoulder-length blonde mane. Instead, he settled for lightly gelling his unruly hair back, such that from the front it almost looked like it could be pulled back. To finish the look, he applied cheap, pale powder to his skin and wiped on a light berry stain lip-gloss that his teenaged slutty neighbor had given him.

She obviously hadn't believed him when he'd asked for her advice on make-up, saying it was for a Halloween costume. She'd snickered uncontrollably, "It's ok, Edward. I don't give a shit what you are doing with it." The leather pants probably didn't help my cause, he thought. She was a decently bright girl who had apparently noticed his lack of female companionship. Hell, the only person who did visit him was his slovenly 'best friend' Jasper. Of course, she thought he was gay.

~O.o~

At seven o' clock, Edward nervously approached the front walk. When Bella had asked him to come, he'd forgotten the party was being held at Emmett McCarty's mini-mansion. The rich bastard. Waiting at the entrance was his co-host for the evening, Rosalie Hale. She was bedecked in what had to have been a painted on catsuit. He could see everything, including the outline of her pussy lips around the seam cutting through her slit. The leather covering his crotch strained against his growing bulge, and he wondered if she was the type to enjoy nipple clamps.

"Let me guess, Dracula?" a booming voice called. Emmett McCarty walked towards him, and Edward noted his typical lack of creativity.

"Lestat, or rather 'Lestan' to you," Edward bantered, attempting to play casual. Taking in Emmett's typical work attire covered by a white lab coat, he continued, "Let me guess, you are 'you'."

Loosing a boisterous guffaw and a slap on Edward's shoulder, he replied, "Well played. Not bad, Stan."

Gratefully, Emmett did not hold Edward any longer, and he stepped into the large house, immediately searching for any form of liquid fortitude. Inebriation was the only mechanism that he could think of to quash his distaste for his surroundings.

Standing off to the side against a far wall and midway into his fourth vodka shot, he noticed a pair of black fishnet stockings and fuck-me heels clicking towards him. Perched on top of a pair of shapely thighs sat curvaceous hips decorated by a low-slung slip of a skirt.

His eyes traveled upwards slowly, taking in the wonder of the body in front of him. The tiny skirt was low enough that he was granted view of a broad swath of creamy belly skin, bejeweled by a sparkling, silver barbell in the button. Above, a pair of tits begged to be released from their bustiered bindings.

Further study showed a pouty, red mouth, and glittering chocolate eyes hidden behind a black, feathered Carnival half-mask. His mouth watered and his tongue lolled.

"Lestat, so glad you could make it. Maybe this little soiree won't be so boring after all," she purred. "Nice pants, by the way," she said with a flutter of her lashes.

Motherfucking hell, it was Bella. Now that he heard the voice, he could see that that sexy body did belong to her.

"Uh, oh, Bella. Um, I didn't recognize you. At all," he forced out, embarrassed. Judging by the smirk on her face, she'd seen his ogling.

Laughing, she pulled off her mask and murmured, "I bet not. Edward, why don't you ask me what I came as."

Edward thought to himself, Well, it is pretty damn obvious. She came as the goddamned whore-fantasy of every dick in the room. Instead, he said politely, "Ok, Bella. What is your costume?"

Her lips parted, and he could see her tongue tracing across her teeth. She returned in a low, sexy voice, "Easy, Edward. I'm a vamp-slut. You know, one of those horny human girls who throw themselves at the hot, male vampire in the leather pants. You know, the ones that want a good fuck and bite."

Edward did a double take. Did she just say what I thought she said? he thought incredulously.

Before he could respond, Bella leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I'm sure you run into those all of the time." The hair on Edward's neck stood up as he felt her hot breath. Her breath smelled like the fruity sweetness of those tiny, multicolored chewing gum squares his neighbor always smacked.

Yes, she did say what I thought she said, he reasoned as his cock rose to attention, anticipating a once in a lifetime fuck.

"Bella, are you just fucking around with me? Cause I'm not really sure what to make of all of this... attention," Edward inquired.

She sighed in exasperation. "Edward, look, you are a smart fellow. That, I know. I'd expected that you would be able to pick up on my not-so-subtle hints. Maybe you need a better hint." Bella's hand snaked down to the protruding leather-covered bulge.

"I want you to fuck me... Lestat," she said with another wink.

Edward stared dumbly and only nodded.

His lightning-fast mind raced through the probability of this event occurring and came up stunned by his good fortune. None of the scenarios that he'd imagined Bella in had prepped him for fucking her in costume at Emmett McCarty's party. He was more than mildly turned on by the prospect.

Bella grabbed his hand and led him down a long hallway, stopping at what appeared to be a library or office of sorts. Encouraged by her willingness, Edward pulled her towards a large walnut desk in the center of the room. Stopping just short of the edge of the desk, he tentatively placed his hands on her hips and motioned her closer to him.

In response, Bella latched her mouth to his and forced her tongue between his lips. Edward felt the tight tugging in his lower abdomen and his cock hardened.

All consideration for whether or not he should fuck his supervisor was completely abandoned when she stroked the outside of his crotch again. He returned her kiss with fervor, savoring the candy-like taste of her tongue.

Edward's hands moved down, one to her tits and the other to cup her ass under her strip of a skirt. Finding nothing but a wisp of cloth, he groped and kneaded her shapely ass cheeks before deftly dipping down further to graze her slit.

Reaching inside her bustier, he pulled her breasts out and noted the small, metal rings affixed to her nipples.

Groaning into her mouth, Edward berated himself for his bland imagination. As his fingers toyed with the rings, he marveled at the slight indentions where the steel entered the nipple's flesh. He wondered if it hurt when they'd been pierced, or, more interestingly, if they'd bled. The thought of tasting her from her nipple was impossibly erotic.

Smacking his lips, he clamped his mouth down onto one of the ringed nipples and his tongue flicked the metal up and down, eliciting loud moans of pleasure from the owner of said naughty jewelry.

Edward's hand came around to her front and he moved his fingers down, stroking her slick folds before abruptly plunging two fingers deep in her pussy.

This, he recalled from his fantasies. Hot and wet, she was surprisingly tight for someone who fucked virtual strangers at work-related Halloween parties. He remembered reading once that if women 'exercised' their pussy muscles, they'd be remarkably tight and some could even bring a cock to orgasm from simply clenching. Edward hoped that Bella was one of these women.

"Now, Edward! Give it to me, now! Fuck me, please!" she wailed as her hand flew to the leather waistband of Edward's pants. She had him unzipped and pulled out in a single, rapid move. With his free hand, Edward dropped his pants down to his ankles for easier motion.

Edward slipped his fingers out and considered what her pussy tasted like.

Well, better than nothing, he thought and dipped his coated fingers in his mouth, licking her juices. Bella moaned again at the sight of him savoring her and she reached down to stroke his cock.

Pressing her against the edge of the desk, he reached around her and swept the contents to the side, freeing the space. She lifted herself on the edge, laid back, and spread her legs for him, exposing her swollen folds.

He entered her swiftly and roughly, and his hands grabbed at her breasts. His fingers looped inside the small rings and he tugged lightly as he began thrusting into her.

Bella hissed to the rhythm of his movements, and her hands drifted to the sides of the desk to steady herself against his onslaught. Edward removed one of his hands from her breasts and pressed small circles on her clitoris with his thumb. "Tell me what you want, Bella. Tell me how you want my cock."

"Yes, yes, yes! Oh, god, fuck me, Edward," she screamed in time. "Harder, Edward. Harder!"

He grinned in response and drove into her, giving her what she wanted. Bella's head rolled back against the table in rapture, and her grip on the desk loosened. Edward pulled his second hand from her breast and gripped her thigh, pulling her towards him as he thrust his hips.

As she gasped, he reached his arms down and under her, lifting her up. He settled her on top of his hips, grateful that his hours in the gym would serve him well.

Bella locked her mouth onto his as he continued pushing deeper inside of her. As she flexed her muscles around his cock, he grunted and groaned into her mouth. "What do you want, you little slut? You want it harder? Is that what that pussy wants?"

"Oh, fuck, Edward. Harder! Oh, god. Yes, yes!" she chanted. As her climax approached, she moaned into him, "Bite me, Edward. Please."

Edward's response was a wild bucking of his hips. Without stopping or considering her request with any rational thought, he complied gladly. This was far, far better than his deepest, darkest imagining.

"Harder, Edward. Do it harder!"

His pumping increased in speed and vigor, and he could hear the smacking of their skin.

"Goddamnit, bite me, Edward!"

His teeth latched onto the smooth muscle joining her shoulder to her neck. Just a little more, almost, he thought. No, she couldn't possibly want that. "You want this?" he grunted against her skin.

"Edward! Oh, my god, yes! Yes! Harder!" she screamed.

His mind finally grasped what she was driving him to and his hands gripped her body too tightly. As Edward felt the skin start to give, his mind reeled in pleasure. Her body shuddered and her pussy clenched around his cock. Tasting the small drop of metallic salt, he lapped at her skin and came undone.

Panting, they pulled apart. Bella lazily looked at him and sighed in ecstasy. "Hmm, I don't suppose you'd like to play more often, would you?"

He thought, fuck what a website says. If she's willing, I'm sucking. He grinned broadly, "Any time. Any place. Here, let me find you a band aid."

[1] Hempbill, R. E. , and Zabow, T., S Afr Med J. 1983 Feb 19;63(8):278-81.