Free Moonlight Meetings - Three Erotic Supernatural Stories (The three first stories from Suzy's Adventures) by Dorian Mayfair Page B

see-you-soon-agains as Suzy’s friends scattered to taxis and trains. Suzy had opted for the bus; it was cheaper, and it would dump her right on her doorstep in central Brooklyn and its espresso-smelling jungle of cafes. Another long nap later, she’d stumbled off the bus, dropped off her bag at home, and then wandered into the nearest cafe. She had needed a proper coffee, so she had ploughed through the rain, ignoring people staring at her black leather coat, her knee-high boots and her messy dark hair, by then as tangled as her thoughts.
    And here she sat, restless and moody while her thoughts became more and more snarled. Part of her longed to get out of the cafe’s thick atmosphere of perfume, espresso and wet partygoers, but she stayed indoors. There was coffee within reaching distance, and the place was safe. Only lunatics stayed outside in this weather. She saw through the window a few shadows ambling down the streets, and given the probable nature of a New Yorker staying outside in this Biblical downpour, she would prefer mixing with real piranhas. In fact, she would choose any djunglish horror over another strange encounter. Piranhas were more reliable; you knew where you had them from square one. After the past weeks, she needed a healthy dose of the ordinary. Cheap drinks, dark clubs, pale men with make-up and smelling of Black No. 1. She wanted the familiar kind of strange.
    Except, of course, that the recent mind-bending and possibly supernatural events, both of them etched deep into her sleep-depraved mind, had included equally mind-bending and most-likely-supernatural sex. And that counted for something. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the afterglow.
    For a while, she had wondered if she had been cursed for her chronic lack of ashamedness. Suzy had never felt guilty for her desires – she couldn’t and wouldn’t apologize for how she was wired. And, besides, life was too short for taking the high road. Armed with that mindset, she had spent years brushing through the New York club Goth scene, every now and then waking up in the company of some particularly intriguing or just hands-down irresistible man. On a few occasions, she had woken up in the company of more than one person. A few times, she had found herself blinking at the daylight while squeezed in naked between both men and women. She leaned towards men, but she gladly swung any way imaginable when she was in the mood. Pigeonholing preferences and appetites were for morons, especially when there were so many black-clad goddesses out there who blipped on Suzy’s radar. But even though she thought herself uninhibited, free and ready for anything, her dates of late had been extraordinary in every way.
    First, that madness in New Orleans: Sex as she had never known it with an invisible lover. All evidence pointed to the ghost of a dead – Ick! Make that ‘disappeared’ – man who had run a cult in the mansion where she had stayed. She would had written the night off as an unusually good dream, were it not for that her Emily Strange-doll had vanished from her room and re-appeared inside a painting. She had stared for minutes at the portrait of the former cult leader, depicted half-hiding the doll behind his back while grinning like a sinister playboy.
    As if that had not been enough to wreck havoc with Suzy’s sanity for days afterwards, the next occurrence was even weirder. Well, almost. At least a different flavour of weird. She had planned an innocent trip with her friends to a mountainside cabin, but instead she had been thrown headfirst into a new meeting that ended with migraine, endless questions and, admittedly, other pleasures. Incredible pleasures, even. Sprinting like a madwoman into a dark forest to help a homeless guy from being eaten by the local wildlife – what had she been thinking? – she had found the would-be homeless man languishing near a pool with a glass of wine, like some Oberon with a penchant for black