Dante yawned, leaning against one of the gravestones in the wide expanse of grass, the small monoliths jutting out from the ground like small trees. He twiddled his thumbs and thought for the hundredth time why on Earth he had accepted this job. Grave keeper mostly gave someone a mental image of a creepy old man who often says things like, “this way, my pretties” or “I’ve got a bone to pick with you” to anyone who wanders by. Instead, Dante was the kind of person who, when seeing some innocent teenagers walking near the graveyard, would either completely ignore them and try to look busy…keeping grave, or whatever. Alternatively, if one of them happened to be female and attractive, he would keep his head down so that his long hair fell over his eyes, making it seem like he can’t see, and watch their wonderful, jiggling chest as they came, and gaze spellbound at their swaying, undulating asses as they went. He shivered with the memories, his cock throbbing unconsciously, his body warming up as thoughts of the various beauties paraded through his mind. A tendril of drool decided upon a small journey, ignored by the rest of the body, which had suddenly started thinking with its cock, not its brain.

As Dante stood there, paralyzed by the sudden inflow of sexual desire, his hand moved subconsciously down to his hard member, straining against his pants. He began rubbing it up and down through the material, moaning softly as he pleased himself.

During this display, which would be rather embarrassing if anyone was watching (foreshadowing much?), he heard a soft noise near one of the gravestones, not unlike a woman’s giggle. This noise would have made him stop immediately if not for some sort of tone about the woman’s laugh. It was like a delighted giggle a woman would make at her dog performing a hard-learned trick. There was some approval, but Dante couldn’t shake the feeling it also reminded him of inferiority. In any case, he was suddenly in the state of mind that suggested he was about to get a biscuit. Which is a state of mind not a lot of humans are often in.

He froze, unsure whether or not to do the sensible thing and 1: stop jacking off, and 2: figure out who just giggled. But something held him back, some kind of inner, primal instinct that told him “just keep going…you know you love it…” in the same “biscuit-related” tone. He began slowly jerking off again, his hand reaching into his pants and gripping his bare cock.

Dante suddenly shook his head like he was tying to brush off a stray fly. He felt his mind clear as he fought against the impulses, the voice leaving as quickly as it came. Dante shook his head some more, looking around, a dazed expression on his face. He staggered toward where he thought he heard the voice coming from, and, through some unknown instinct, looked down. His mouth dropped open. Now here was something he’d never seen.

It was as though the gravestone had just moved slightly to the left, revealing a long, dark staircase leading into pitch darkness. Anyone who was thinking with their brain and didn’t have an incessant female voice in his head moaning, “Come….to me, baby…coooooome…to me…” would have turned around and ran. Dante, however, didn’t fit into this category at this point.

He lurches forward like a zombie (fitting in a graveyard) down the stairs, each one bringing the soft, beckoning voice closer and closer and closer. Dante eventually stumbled down to the end of the stairs, and entered a large, torch lit chamber, looking much like a large tomb. Instead of a coffin, though, there was a large bed in the center, covered in silken blankets and soft cushions. Lounging on the bed was the most beautiful woman Dante had ever seen. She had long, black, flowing hair, and her surprisingly, almost unnaturally voluptuous body was squeezed into a tight dress, her breasts pushed up to make them seem massive.

As Dante stared, open-mouthed at the woman, he could almost feel his brain leaking out his ears. When she stood up and walked toward him, her hips swinging rhythmically, he could almost feel the rest of his body melt as well, except for one specific area located between his legs. She smirked as she walked toward him, her bare feet pattering gently on the stone floor. When she reached him, his lower body had mostly given up and he was on his knees, staring mindlessly at her hypnotically jiggling breasts.

After an eternity of waiting, when she finally reached him, she reached down and cradled his face in her hand, forcing it up (with difficulty) so that it was directed toward her eyes. She purred out, in a voice draped and coated in silken, brain-melting seduction, “Look into my eyes, baby…look so deeply into my nice, black eyes…”

No further request was needed, her words molding his thoughts as easily as powerful fingers would mold a ball of soft clay. He stared longingly into her deep, ebony            eyes, falling into the darkness as easily as falling gently into a pool of ecstasy. Soon the darkness filled up his entire vision, trapping him in a blanket of submission. Then, somehow, the blinding, soothing darkness managed to keep expanding past his vision range and fill up his entire body, his every cell filled with deep, dark, hypnotic surrender. He felt a mental presence slowly seep into his mind, his limbs, trapped by the darkness, unable to fight the feeling of slowly being taken over. Then, he left even the dimming light of his consciousness fade, finally blacked out by a sudden spike of pain on his neck and a blast of pleasure in his crotch.
Dante had wallowed in the darkness for who-knows-how-long, and suddenly felt himself being dragged out of the soft, safe black and being thrust into wakefulness.

The first sensation he felt was that of warmth, right below his head. He was lying down, resting his head on something warm and soft. It took his brain a while to realize that he was resting on a pair of thighs, and that he was actually looking up at a pair of bare breasts, not two flesh colored watermelons. He groaned softly as he woke up, completely relaxed by the woman’s presence and her slow stroking of his hair. Dante also felt somehow empowered, like he had just eaten a huge meal after being on the edge of starvation.

Dante looked up and saw the woman lean over her breasts (with difficulty) and grin at him, revealing her long, sharp teeth. Dante grinned back, feeling his own fangs poke gently against his lower lip.