RED IN TOOTH AND CLAW by Rtmoan

“Hurry up,” Lucretia laughed, pulling on Harry’s coat sleeve, “It’s freezing out here.”

“Yeah, yeah, babe, just a second, just a second,” Harry muttered, all his concentration on managing to get the hotel room key into the door lock.

Maybe three drinks ago this wouldn’t have been such a task, but as it was, Harry was in no shape to have driven here in the first place, much less plonk down the cash for a promise of some rough action. Just had to get the damn thing into the hole, and hey, presto, the key slid into the lock like it was made for it. He turned it with a flourish and threw wide the door, the stale smell of cigarette smoke and unwashed linen belching out at them from inside the room.

“Ugh,” Lucretia said, her nose wrinkling in disgust, “What a dive.”

“Yeah, well, spur of the moment and all that,” Harry said, moving into the small room.

It had a bed, a separate closet for a toilet, and a desk that had been carved into so many times it may as well have been sawdust. It would do for what he had in mind, at least.

Lucretia followed, her arms wrapped around herself as much from the cold as not wanting to touch anything in the unsanitary room. She jumped when the door slammed shut on its own behind them. At least it was warm, and she was freezing, and besides, there was Harry to consider.

He could warm her up just fine, she was sure. Reluctantly, she sat on the edge of the bed, fishing around in her purse, and pulling out the bottle of whiskey they had picked up at the corner store next door.

“I don’t think you’re going to want to use any of the glasses in here,” Lucretia hazarded, leaning forward enough to investigate the bathroom.

The flyspecked mirror was dull with grime under the fluorescent light. Everything was dull, from the mildewed baby blue tile to the ancient brown-but-was-probably-once-orange shag carpet of the main sleeping area. A fine layer of dust and dismay clung to everything, and Lucretia started counting the minutes until she could be done with this. But she was here for a fun time as much as Harry, and she could let it slide, just for now.

She unscrewed the lid of the bottle, offering it to Harry. He took it with his left hand and not for the first time Lucretia noticed the dent where a wedding ring should have been. It didn’t bother her that he was going to be another in a long series of one-nighters.

She wasn’t ready to settle down anyhow, not by a long shot. Besides, he certainly wasn’t going to be clingy, not once he sobered up anyhow, and she was going to make sure that didn’t happen for a while yet. She smiled as he took a swig from the bottle of cheap whiskey, coughing from the harshness of the brown liquid. Harry offered the bottle to her, but she declined.

“Someone has to be able to get your pants off, big boy,” she said smiling.

Harry laughed at that and took another swig before setting the bottle on the desk and moving to stand in front of Lucretia.

“God you’re hot,” he said, slurring most of it.

He was close to seeing double, and he did not mind one bit. She was so much more attractive than his wife, more fit, none of that postpartum weight around the middle or the nagging about doing more around the house. He deserved it, this break from the monotony of married life with a new kid at home. He had some regrets leading up to this point but stumbling into Lucretia at the bar was not one of them.

He fumbled with his belt a bit before Lucretia laughed and took over, undoing the buckle, then his zipper, then his pants and boxers were pooled at his feet after one expert motion. He stood there, swaying slightly, jumping when Lucretia moved in for a kiss right on the head of his cock. It took a while to stiffen, what with the drinking that had been going on, but Lucretia didn’t mind, focused on engulfing his soft cock in her warm, wet mouth.

Harry moaned, reclining against the desk, as Lucretia sucked his cock, her right hand on his buttocks, her left caressing his balls. She worked it expertly, her tongue swirling around the tip, tracing the length of it as it stiffened and grew in her mouth.

When she had him fully erect, she pulled back and just worked the head in her mouth, her tongue sending twitches of pleasure up Harry’s back and causing him to buck gently until she once again engulfed the length of him, burying the head in the back of her throat, working him deeper into her. Harry groaned his imminent climax and Lucretia relented, not wanting it to be over just yet.

She stood then and turned him gently until his back was to the bed, then she gently pushed him onto his back, the cheap mattress creaking under his weight. She wrestled his shoes off before pulling his pants the rest of the way off and heaping the lot in the floor at the foot of the bed.

Her undressing was a simpler affair and she merely had to undo the clasps of her dress at the shoulder and let it fall unceremoniously to the ground at her feet. She was fully naked underneath for just such an occasion, and she posed briefly for Harry to take her in, her full breasts, the stiff brown nipples capping them, the full bush between her legs, all the things she knew a man like Harry would appreciate.

He beckoned to her by patting his thigh and Lucretia dutifully climbed astride him on the bed, the coils in the mattress singing out in protest. She slid up his body, her soft breasts and firm nipples tracing lines of pleasure up Harry’s legs, then crotch, then stomach where she rested a moment, feeling the heat of him beneath her, the firmness of his erection pressing insistently against her stomach. She could feel the blood throbbing in his cock as it twitched beneath her and she smiled, her teeth shining in the yellow light of the bedside lamp.

She slid up the rest of his body, placing kisses up his stomach and chest and neck before locking her lips onto his, grinding her cunt against him as their tongues took turns sliding eagerly against each other, both their breaths coming quick and fast. Lucretia adjusted her hips and reached down between them, aiming his hard cock at her cunt, and slid back with authority, sinking him into her in one swift thrust that had them both gasping in pleasure.

Lucretia straightened up and began riding Harry slowly at first, working her hips, pulling off until just the tip of his cock was inside her, then plunging down slowly, so slowly, eliciting groans from the man below her. She knew exactly how she liked to be fucked, and she’d be damned if she let him take over. Besides, it wasn’t like he was in any level of sobriety to be more than a clumsy shag. So, she took it slow, reveling in the feeling of him throbbing inside of her, enjoying the way her clit ground against him as she buried him inside of her cunt, the way he twitched when she squeezed expertly around his thick shaft.

Lucretia got into a smooth rhythm, bouncing along the length of Harry’s cock, the mattress beneath them betraying every movement. He reached up as she rode him and grasped her breasts in her hands, mauling them, tugging at her nipples until she cried out, but she didn’t knock his hands away. Let him have his fun and she could have hers, she knew, and so he pulled and tweaked and manhandled her breasts the best way a drunken man knew how, all the while thrusting up to meet Lucretia on her down-stroke, their bodies locked in carnal motion.

Lucretia sped up the pace now, slamming more authoritatively down on Harry, their skin slapping out the quickened rhythm, a sheen of sweat shining on her dark skin, a small rivulet tracing down between her breasts and headed south. Harry for his part was doing his best to contain his orgasm, his hands on her hips to slow her as much as guide her more comfortably, but she would not relent. She wanted his cum, wanted his heat, wanted to be filled by this silly drunk man beneath her.

At last, with a final round of tightly gripping him with her cunt, she elicited a grunt and a drawn-out moan from Harry that signaled his cumming as much as the hot jets of cum she felt splash out of his cock and into her. She continued her movements, slower now, the wet squelching of their union filling the room.

When he finally lost his erection, she let him slip out of her unceremoniously and lay over top him, supporting her weight on her hands, the sweat from her brow dripping onto his face. He moved to swipe it away, but she was faster and held his arm down first one, then the other, until she had him pinned on the bed.

“Hey, c’mon now, let me up, you’re soaked,” Harry mumbled, struggling feebly against her weight, “This isn’t funny, c’mon.”

Lucretia laughed at that, her eyes shining.

“Funny? Oh loverboy, you have no idea.”

She leaned down and nipped at his neck, making him yelp.

“Hey, no, don’t leave any marks, my wife —”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucretia said, and locked her lips onto his neck, sucking hard, working the flesh with her teeth and tongue.

Once she was satisfied, she pulled back and admired her handiwork, a fresh purple love bite right on his neck for anyone to see, and know, what Harry had been up to that night.

“God dammit, I said no!” Harry said, throwing his full weight against Lucretia.

When she didn’t budge panic grew in his eyes.

“What are you doing? Weren’t we having a good time?”

“Of course we had a good time, baby, and now it’s time I got mine, yeah?”

Lucretia grinned at him and for the first time Harry noted the length of her incisors. Much too long. Much too sharp.

“What the hell —”

And she fell on him, knocking the wind from his chest, her lips and teeth locked tightly over the hickey, except now she bit down with force, puncturing his skin, blood flowing freely. He tried to scream but she covered his mouth with a free hand to keep the noise down.

He went slack shortly after, the effects of the bite taking everyone differently. Some felt extreme pleasure, some pain, and some, like Harry here, fell into a deep torpor. She wasn’t going to drain him, not all the way, just enough to slake her thirst for now.

When she’d had her fill, taking him to the brink, she felt her head swimming with newfound vigor and not a small amount of whiskey that had been swimming around in Harry’s system. It was nice to get a buzz off a meal, it’s why she went after the ones in the bars after all.

She climbed off Harry and went to the bathroom and debated a shower. When rusty water came out of the pipes, she changed her mind and just wiped down with a maybe-once-white towel that hung there, leaving it streaked red with what she hadn’t managed to get down. She threw it to the floor and walked out, renewed and refreshed.

She pulled her dress back up, re-clasping it at her shoulders and fished around in Harry’s pants for his wallet. It wasn’t like he was going to need it, and he’d been flashing around enough cash at the bar to make him a worthwhile mark. She took the bills and tossed the wallet onto the bed, tucking them into her purse.

She gave one last cursory look around the room, almost forgetting to take the whiskey with her. No sense letting it go to waste. She blew Harry a kiss before turning to leave, opening the door to the chill winter night. She didn’t even feel the cold anymore, not with the new blood in her, and she walked out of the room, letting the door close behind her.

The night was still young, and she was far from full. Whistling tunelessly to herself, she walked to the street, heading back downtown to spend some of her hard-earned cash. As for Harry, he’d wake in a few hours, hopefully a bit wiser in who he picked up at bars, if not full of questions and a handful of regrets, not least of which would be explaining the hickey on his neck to his doting wife.

THE END