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Workingout what I was going to wear was relatively easy, Imean, it was a case of going as far as I could andstill feel confident. The party was great fun, but Icouldn’t help wishing Alan could have been there. Thenumber of people who went along in fetish-type gear wasenough to make you wonder if they played around inprivate. My brother took some pictures that I posted to Alan forhim to scan; I wanted to put one on my web pages. Heseemed suitably impressed with the boots! I’m not sureif the boots helped but finally we were able toorganize another weekend together, a slightly longerone than usual, meeting on a Thursday evening.Before the weekend arrived I went shopping. I’d beenthinking about what I wanted to do to Alan the nexttime we met but finding what I was looking for was moredifficult than I’d anticipated. They don’t seem to sellleashes in black leather anymore, at least not at thepet shops near my home. Finally I found something thatseemed right,. The alef was clad in plate armour, although he wore it lightly, and a few strands of dark hair had come loose around the rim of his helmet. Twin duelling scars marked his left check, and he watched Boulet with eyes the deep blue of glacier ice.The alef drew a sword from his side as he approached. As he reached Boulet he stopped, regarding him for a moment with a level gaze.Boulet’s mouth worked. Nothing made sense. He had come here to fight monsters, not aelves. He was a Duke of the Blood, not some...some twisted, clawed abomination. He forced painful words out through his unfamiliar mouth.“Sorcery…” Boulet rasped, in a voice he did not recognise “Not...monsters...some….illusion….”The elf stood looking at him for a moment longer. Then he raised his sword, and a cool smile pulled at his lips.“These are the Mistral’s, vampire.” the aelf said “We’re all monsters here.”The sword flashed, and darkness claimed Duke Boulet for the final time.***Ylvan watched in distaste as the ghoul king’s.
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“We had better hurry then.” A wide smile spread across her face as she eagerly reached for his zipper. They both stood up and helped each other out of the bothersome clothes covering their impatient bodies. It truly was a team effort. First his jeans, then her sweater and the pile continuously grew until they both left in their skivvies. The room was dim, but he could see her ivory skin, her tight tummy and the hot pink panties that read “love pink” on the back. She sat back on the couch and he followed her. His fingers crept up her legs to her chest where they stopped. Her bra was nothing more than a burden; he needed her tender flesh in his mouth. The bra flew across the room in a blur and seconds later he delved into her perky buds. His tongue lunged at them with determination. Extended foreplay was what they both craved, but it would have to wait until next time. He weaved his index fingers through the embellishments on the sides of her panties and ripped them from her.

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