You may remember that I proposed a porn parody contest once upon a time. After an agony of indecision, I have chosen a winner–Julie Cox’s story “I Want to Suck Your…” Without further delay, I present the winner for your enjoyment.

I Want To Suck Your …

A dark room, a luxurious bed, candles lit all around, and in the middle of it all, a nude woman tested her bonds one more time. Tight and secure. She glanced at the closed door; surely someone would come through that door soon, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what would happen then.

A soft laugh came from down the hall, and she shivered. It wasn’t that the room was cold; it was quite warm, almost cozy with its dark wood paneling and heavy curtains. Material that would block out the sun. The laughter came again, tickling up her spine. It was an old laugh, sad and bitter – nothing humorous about it.

The door handle clicked, turned, and eased open. A man stood in the doorframe, only his silhouette visible. He stepped into what little light was afforded by the candles, and her breath caught in her throat. He was beautiful – unspeakably beautiful, almost like an angelic sculpture, with pale blond hair – as above, so below, she thought, realizing he was naked. She gasped; was this what she had been brought here for?

He didn’t look at her, but moved with inhuman grace to a candle that had gone out. He bent to it and lit a match, wincing at the heat, and relit it. She admired his candlelit profile, so perfect and clean. Then he turned towards her, intent in his eyes, and she gasped.

A note of pity came into his eyes and voice as he said, “Please … don’t be afraid.”

“I dunno, that’s pretty fearful,” she said, gesturing downward.

He narrowed his eyes. “Your spunkiness is unwelcome. Have a little reverence for the moment. After all, I’ve waited so long … “

“You ARE so long!”

“Will you cut it out?”

“Sorry.”

He went to the foot of the high four-poster bed and touched her bare foot. “So beautiful,” he said, running his fingertips up the back of her calf. “You know, there was a time when a well-turned ankle peeking from below a skirt could be scandalous. The hem of hose running up the back of a woman’s leg was arousing. Those days may be long past, but …”

He bent his mouth to the back of her knee. “I still hold them dear.” His fingertips ran lightly up the back of her thigh, almost to her buttocks, but not quite, before coming back down again.

“You were there then?” she asked with a gasp of pleasure. He certainly knew how to touch her.

“I was.” He came up onto the bed and stretched out next to her. His hand ran across the bonds that tied her, and the harness that ran between and under hear breasts. Her proximity to this creature stirred her, as did her bonds. She did so love being tied, and inexplicably, her worry had all but disappeared. She could only attribute it to the sudden tingling between her legs, an awakening that made her stare at the now slightly rigid cock beside her.

“You have such courage,” he admired.

She was tempted to answer, The better to fuck you with, my dear, but she resisted. He might get mad. Instead she said, “Do I have anything to fear?”

“No, you don’t,” he whispered, and pulled her in for a kiss.

She moaned against his mouth and strained at her bonds. She arched, looking to press her body against his, and he moved just enough to keep her from him. She made small noises of protest, and his hands acquiesced, smoothing down the curves of her body. He made her swoon, made her ache, this incubus of a man. At last he moved against her, her breasts to his broad, muscular chest. She wanted to run her hands down that body, to scratch him and watch his white back turn pink-striped.

She gasped and jerked; his hand was between her legs, at last. She moved against him, unable to keep her hips still. He rubbed the little bump there, circled it around, hard and fast, then slower, and almost tickling with teasing. He slid a finger inside her, continuing to rub her clit with his thumb.

“Oh God,” she gasped.

“I assure you, God has nothing to do with it,” he purred. He slid lower to suck her breasts, swirling his tongue over her nipples. He moved his hand, and let the tip of his cock rub against her clit. Ohhh, that was what she wanted. She parted her legs willingly, and he rolled her onto her back. He slid fore and back, rubbing his entire length against her clit. Her cunt ached like a bruise, asking to be entered, to be fucked, to take his whole length up to the hilt. He kissed her again, and she thrust her tongue into his mouth.

And felt something sharp cut into her tongue, just a bit. Her nerves lit on fire, and he froze. He knew that she knew. Vampire. He drew back, and yes – just visible, the points of his fangs. Just outside her cunt, the head of his cock. Either one could ram home in an instant. He hissed. She grabbed her bonds, tying her to the bed, and pulled. It came free – just as she’d figured – and she grabbed the thin wooden stick she’d used to fastened her hair back.

“Beast!” she cried. “I’m not into vampires!” She kicked him, and he went flying off the bed. He landed on the floor with a thump and an “OW!” She was right after him, improvisational stake raised, when he held up his hands and yelled “Maple! Maple!”

She stopped. Hands on her hips, she glared down at him. “Vampire, huh. I thought you said you had something original in mind.”

“I did,” he said, picking himself up off the carpet. “You didn’t let me finish.”

She snorted. “Whatever. Let me guess – the bite was going to be down south?”

He rubbed his neck. “Not necessarily.”

She slung the stake into a corner and climbed back up on the bed. She took off the bonds and turned on the dresser lamp. “You know, me dying is not sexy. Not in the least.”

“I was gonna make you a vampire too,” he said, clambering up next to her. “You hurt my shoulder for real you know. And ME dying isn’t sexy either. Why do you always have to pull out the stake? Why can’t I win for once?”

She ruffled his hair. “Oh honey. That’s not gonna happen. And your vampire hiss? Sounds like the Count from Sesame Street.”

“Twoooo boobies, aaa aaa aaa aaa!” He yawned and stretched. “Ok, so I’m still horny as hell. We gotta come up with a new fantasy.”

She squirmed. “Yeah, me too. You better do something about this or I’m going to really stake you.”

He nuzzled her shoulder. “Werewolf? I have that raccoon tail.”

“Oh please.”

“Faeries?”

“Been done.”

“Loch Ness Monster?”

She laughed and slapped his ass. “Now you’re not even trying.”

He rolled over onto her and smiled down at her. “Oh yeah? I could see the headline now. Innocent swimmer claims, Nessie is even more serpentine than grainy, out of focus photographs led us to believe!”

She squirmed under him, sliding against his cock. “Check this out. I could be the chupacabra. You want I should suck your goat?”

He thought for a minute. “Hmm; not as sexy as I would have thought. And that’s saying something. But I can see the spiny, reptilian resemblance.”

“Hey!” She rolled them over so she could be on top, laughing. “Ok oh so clever one. How about this.” She laid down on his chest, positioning herself so the tip of his cock rubbed against her cunt again. “I know it’s been done, and done and done and done, but let’s just be us this time. Just two plain old immortals, exhausted for original material, who still have something to say to one another. Who still want each other, after all these centuries. Who still put up with each other’s crap ideas and just go with it, because fucking the other is just too goddamn great.”

He grasped her hips and with a motion long practiced, slid slowly inside her. His eyes fluttered closed. “Yeah … I could go with that one.”