The dark Mercedes cruised down the streets of the Recoleta district, the couple inside the luxurious vehicle smiling slightly as they made their way home from the opera. The summer air wasn’t hot, but rather, a pleasant breeze swirled in from the lowered windows. The dance club music pouring in caused the woman to move her shoulders slightly in rhythm, glancing at the driver with a more than appreciative look. He was handsome, distinguished in his tuxedo, sexy in everything. She watched as he drove, his posture relaxed but elegant somehow, and she wanted him. The car pulled up to the mansion, rolling into the garage, the engine dying as Hannibal put it into park and turned off the ignition.
He had a brief moment to register surprise after he removed his seatbelt when two small white hands reached toward him and deftly unfastened his trousers. The hands found him with unerring accuracy, freeing him from his silk boxers. He could only watch in shock as the platinum head beside him lowered to his lap and the hot, wet feel of a rough tongue glided over the top of his penis. The soft tongue stroked first one side then the other of his semi-erect member, hands lifting, then the delicious touch resumed on the underside, licking along the vein. Hannibal was utterly fascinated as the talented muscle started at the base of his penis again, flicking rapidly side to side in a slow upward pattern, teasing the sensitive bottom, feeling all the world like a sensual typewriter.
The action was repeated again, then again, a little faster each time, until he was painfully stiff from the attention. He marveled as Clarice once more executed the teasing move, a new experience for him, and he briefly wondered where she had learned it, thought ceasing when the tongue ran over his swollen head. A moan escaped him and was answered by a growl from his torturer. She circled the silky ridge a few times before taking the now purple top fully into her mouth. Descent came a centimeter at a time, until he could feel the back of her throat touch him. It had taken much practice with him for her to master that ability, and she took pride in showing it off just then.
Her cheeks caved in as she sucked hard on him, showing no mercy as she raised her head up his length and lowered it again. Teeth grazed his skin on the third trip, a well-calculated pressure applied to the delicate organ. The hand cupping his testicles began a light, rhythmic squeeze as she increased the pace. A satisfied smile stretched her lips around him when Hannibal jerked, his body conceding her victory over him as he came into her mouth. Clarice swallowed a couple of times before pulling back, a soft sucking, popping noise sounding when her mouth left him. Her hands had his clothing rearranged and pants fastened before he quite came back to himself enough to notice she was getting out of the car and shutting the door to go into the house. The smug smile tossed over her shoulder was a welcome invitation to follow that he hastily accepted.
Alejandra fidgeted in her seat, eyes constantly darting around the large and extravagant room. She was nervous and just a bit worried. She had never done anything like this before. But she also had five brothers and sisters at home, and her younger sister had just had a baby of her own. She sighed deeply as she considered her situation. While her four brothers worked, it still wasn’t enough to keep everyone fed and clothed adequately. If Theresa hadn’t had the baby, it wouldn’t be so bad, but now the infant was sick and needed medicine. She was still mad at her brothers for letting their little sister go out so late by herself, resulting in the thirteen year-old getting raped then pregnant—which thought led Alejandra back to her current surroundings.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when the house creaked a little, expecting the woman who had found her earlier in the week to come in. The woman was Anglo, but had been nice and even bought some medicine for the baby when she’d learned of the young girl’s troubles. She learned the lady’s name was Clarissa and had rather liked her. Then she had been told that she was a lovely young lady and asked if she would consider spending the night with her—and her husband. That had put off Alejandra at first, but the woman had been so nice and reassuring. Clarissa had even asked some sensible questions before finalizing the offer. Alejandra had admitted to doing drugs, but no needles; she wanted to get high, not a disease. Her only sexual partner so far had been her girlfriend of two years; she was clean, too. Now she sat upstairs in Clarissa’s house, waiting for her to arrive.
She tensed when she heard footsteps down the hall. The servant who had brought her up had mentioned that they would be leaving as soon as the couple returned from the opera. She would be alone with them, and while she trusted the woman, she was nervous about meeting her husband. She had been worried that he would want something from her, but Clarissa said that it was a surprise for him, that he had a fantasy of watching two women. Alejandra didn’t mind that. Her breath caught in her throat when the doorknob turned and the door swung open on its hinges. She released it in a rush when the woman entered first. Some of the tension in her body transformed into arousal at the sight of the woman in the coral dress and emeralds.
Clarice smiled when she saw the girl sitting on the sofa waiting for them. At seventeen, the young woman was still fresh in her beauty. Her frame was fairly long with long legs and slender hips and breasts that made Clarice’s look tiny in comparison. She had a small waist, though sparse meals and drugs most likely had a lot to do with that. Her skin was a dark honey brown and was accented by large black eyes and waist-length deep brown hair. Clarice complimented herself again on her choice. Alejandra had even been obedient enough to put on the simple, white cotton sundress that had been laid out for her upon arrival.
Hannibal entered then, surprised to see the young woman sitting in his room, though he hid the emotion well. “Clarice, would you care to explain this?” he asked mildly, interested by the look of appraisal on her face.
“It’s a gift—a surprise for you,” she said, a light smile curling at the corners of her lips.
He raised an eyebrow to convey his amusement. “While I’m glad you thought of me, I’m intrigued by your choice. Surely you know I am uninterested in any other women.”
She chuckled at his slight confusion, a rare thing to witness. “She’s not for you, though,” she teased.
“I was sure you said she was a gift for me,” he replied with a smile, wondering where this game would take them.
“The situation is your gift. She is for me.” Her blue eyes danced wickedly in the low lights. She had never pulled a stunt like this before, letting her lover provide their amusements. But she finally felt completely sure of herself after three years and wanted to do something extraordinary to mark it for them both.
This time, both eyebrows raised and he didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “I will admit to being intrigued, Clarice.”
Her smirk grew wider as she guided him to the armchair opposite the small couch and gently pushed him back into the cushions. “Then sit, watch, and enjoy,” was all she said, placing a soft kiss on his lips before turning to the girl. “¿Como estás?” she asked, a bright grin flashed at the girl.
Alejandra gave a small smile in return and exhaled heavily, “Estoy muy nerviosa.”
“No te preocupas,” Clarice reassured her. “Te imaginas que el no está aquí. Hay solamente tu y yo,” she murmured as she stroked the young woman’s cheek.
This seemed to calm her nerves, and Alejandra reached up to cup Clarice’s cheek in return. She was on firmer ground now, knew what to do once touch was initiated. She allowed herself to forget the man’s presence and concentrate on the woman in front of her. The pale skin covered with freckles seemed to invite her hands to explore. Reaching behind Clarice’s neck, she unfastened the necklace then set it carefully on the coffee table. She removed the rest of the woman’s jewelry, not wearing any herself. Alejandra trailed her fingers over the blonde’s collarbone and shoulder as she moved behind her to undo the dress, sliding it down her body and draping it over a nearby chair once Clarice stepped out of it. She was mindful of the fine things around her, sure to give them the respect their cost deserved.
Brown hands smoothed down Clarice’s back, back of fingernails tracing her spine on the way up. Palms moved over the tops of flared hips, catching under the waistband of underwear and pulling it down to ankles. She stepped around the pale woman, standing in front of her, seeing the blue eyes spark with arousal. She reached down, caught the hem of her own dress, and pulled it over her head, leaving her naked, as well. With slow movements she trailed her fingertips from Clarice’s shoulders, down her chest, over small breasts and pink nipples, flat stomach and round hips, finally cupping her bottom and pulling them together. Her eyes closed briefly at the feel of soft bellies and breasts pressing against each other.
Clarice found herself enjoying the sensations the girl was building in her body. She pushed her hips forward, actually groaning when their mounds touched. It took little coaxing for the young woman to draw her down to the sofa and ease her onto her back. She sighed blissfully as full lips followed the path hands had taken earlier. Clarice arched into the dark girl’s touches, gasping as her breasts were suckled hard, nipples sore and red by the time the girl moved lower. Her hands caught and played with long dark hair as tiny kisses and nips were bestowed on her inner thighs, tongue briefly sweeping along her sex before slipping between the folds.
Clarice tilted her head back, turning it to look over at Hannibal, pleased to see his jaw tense and the slight bulge at the front of his trousers. Her lids slid shut, though, when the brunette’s tongue flicked over her clit, and her body spasmed quickly, briefly. She let herself drift on the building pleasure as the hot mouth sucked and licked her toward orgasm, and soft, small hands stroked the sides and backs of her raised thighs. It was quick when she came, hips bucking upward once to meet the lips that eased her back down from her peak.
Once she recovered herself enough, Clarice shifted forward, capturing a taut, cinnamon nipple in her mouth, sucking and nibbling on the woman before her. All the time, glancing out of the corner of her eye to watch Hannibal’s reaction, noting the white-knuckled fists and intense look. She pulled at the dark peaks with her teeth, enjoying the whimper it caused the girl to make. Reversing positions, she knelt between the dark legs, right hand moving down into wiry curls and then warm silk. Long white fingers slid inside and stroked rhythmically as the pad of her thumb rubbed the small nub above. She leaned forward and playfully bit at the young woman’s belly as her hand flexed, grinning when the girl finally came against her digits.
Alejandra surged up then, caught up in the moment and forgetting their audience. She slithered on top of Clarice, lining their bodies up perfectly. The blonde moaned anew when wet flesh pressed into hers, allowing herself to enjoy the sensations washing over her. Clarice gripped Alejandra’s hips, grinding herself into the young woman above her. The tingling of an imminent climax lit in her nerves, building higher than she had expected. She felt the body on hers shudder as she pressed her face into the girl’s soft neck, muffling the sharp cries that escaped her as she began to orgasm. At the height of her peak, Clarice cried out roughly and sank her teeth deeply into the warm brown throat at her lips, fingernails piercing the skin on the girl’s buttocks.
Alejandra’s eyes snapped open as she cried out in pain and jerked away from the woman beneath her. The flesh held in Clarice’s teeth tore some as she reared back, increasing the pain. Black eyes grew wider when she saw Clarice’s bloody mouth smiling back at her when she looked down. Fear raced through her veins as she tried to get up, but the hands that had been moving up her back now gripped her upper arms with an uncanny strength. Hoping for help, she turned her head to look at Lecter, still sitting in his chair across from them. “¡Ayuda me!” she pleaded, reaching out a hand to him, desperate.
Hannibal had watched in wonder when his lover’s teeth sank into the girl’s neck. An odd sensation swept over him at the sight of Clarice drawing blood, and he felt a strange sort of pride at the feral gleam in her eyes. He stood when the girl cried out to him, walking forward and catching her hand in his, relishing the brief look of relief that washed over her face and was quickly followed by panic as he bent down and kissed the back of her hand and released her. He caught a few tendrils of his lover’s platinum hair and let it slip from his fingers as he stepped back a bit to watch.
Clarice laughed as the girl tried to fight her off, catching the small wrists in her hands with a steely grip, forcing her backwards until she straddled the dark girl’s waist. Bending down, she clamped her mouth over the seeping wound on the smooth neck, tongue tracing the outline fleetingly. Then she bit again and once again, until the blood flowed out generously, and she drank deeply, arms straining to hold the woman beneath her still. She reveled in the waves of terror that were coming off of her victim, the heady scent of pheromones and adrenaline that mixed with the metallic taste of blood and the musky smell of sex in the air. Finally, the body under hers began to go lax, the struggling and screams ceasing after a few minutes, the young woman eventually bleeding out.
Clarice sat up then, blue eyes bright and wild with excitement as she looked up to see Hannibal standing nearby, an expression of captivation and glee on his face as he stared at her. Her right foot touched the floor, body sliding off of the lifeless form on the couch, her appearance intense as she stalked toward her lover, walk deliberate and sensual as she neared. Adrenaline was rushing through her at an alarming rate, and somewhere in the back of Hannibal Lecter’s analytical mind, he recalled the four F’s of such a surge: flight, fight, feed, and fuck. He determined that since the first response was not an option, and she had already fought and fed, he was about to be the recipient of the last and most pleasant reaction. He mused that perhaps she had already sated that need as well, but one look at her told him that she hadn’t even come close. The thought made him giddy with anticipation.
Clarice wasted no time; as soon as her hands would reach, she tore at his clothes, frantic to feel him against her, inside her. Once she managed to bare his chest and get his pants pushed below his hips, she pounced, literally tackling him to the floor. She was totally free—unfettered by restraints and unwilling to reign herself in. He was already hard from watching her toy with the girl, and she sank quickly onto his length, throwing her head back at the delicious pain that came from having him enter her too far, too fast. Clarice was beyond caring as she rose up and impaled herself on him again. Her hands moved restlessly on his broad chest, nails raking the skin with each rise and fall she made over him.
Hannibal responded to the animal need in her eyes, his body meeting hers eagerly. No words were spoken as he rolled them over, his hips settling between her thighs as he resumed the thrusts, more forcefully than she had been moving. He heard her cry out in pain and joy, her fingernails gouging into his sides as she clung to him. Her legs wrapped around him, ankles crossing at the small of his back and pulling him in harder with each stroke. He pounded into her mercilessly, her wet heat surrounding him, not holding back when his sleek head came down, and his small, white teeth pierced the skin around her shoulders and throat over and over, tongue lapping at the numerous shallow wounds. Their mouths met then, a furious tangle of tongues and teeth as they bit and sucked at each other’s lips during their frenzied coupling. It seemed as if they had merged when they finally climaxed together, collapsing into a sweaty heap of sated flesh.
The couple lay like that for several long minutes, regaining their bearings and coming back to themselves slowly. When they finally separated and stood, both were streaked crimson with blood from small hurts inflicted on each other in their violent sex. They studied each other a moment before turning their heads simultaneously to look at the drained body on the sofa. Hannibal pulled his pants back up and refastened them then started forward, but Clarice caught his arm, bringing him back around to face her. She pressed a tender kiss to his red lips, eyes soft as she regarded him. “Thank you,” she said, adding a few beats later, “for freeing me.” Her hand caressed his cheek as she turned and walked to the body, grabbing the ankles.
Lecter moved to pick up the girl’s wrists, setting her down on the floor long enough to turn over the couch cushions and gather the girl’s clothes. Then the two of them silently carried their burden down the stairs of the mansion to the basement where they tossed the limp form into the large furnace that heated the house and water. Clarice helped Hannibal strip and throw his bloodstained clothes in, as well. He surprised her then when he scooped her up into his arms and carried her back upstairs to their suite of rooms. He gently set her down beside the shower, which he turned on and urged her to enter behind him. As they took their time washing each other, they discussed where they should go next, Sweden at the top of their list.