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Skype Chat-An Excerpt from the Novel "Blood Diva" By VM Gautier

Alphonsine’s first date with the mayor was scheduled while Dashiell was still in Los Angeles.
Dashiell skyped her at dusk. “I was going to leave you a video. I didn’t expect you to be up. Isn’t it still daylight?”
It took her a second to get this was not an accusation.
“Sundown on the East Coast,” she reminded him.
“What are you doing?”
“Deciding what to wear. Client dinner.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Pierre’s hosting.”
“I like what you got on. You look amazing.”
“This?” She asked, stepping back so he could get a full view. “It’s just a little black dress.”
“It shimmers,” he replied.
“But the beading makes me look fat,” she said, turning around so he could see from all angles.”
“Not fat,” he said.
With her back to him, she reached around to hug herself, and then pulled down the zipper allowing the sleeves to fall from her slim shoulders. She wriggled a bit until the dress slipped to the floor, and then she quickly bent down with her legs straight to pick it up. She turned around to face him, holding it in front of her body. Then she let it drop, exposing her bra, panties, and garters. She walked closer to the screen until Dashiell had a close up of her breasts.
“I hope you’re alone,” she said.
“If I weren’t, it would be too late.”
He had taken off his shirt, but not his jeans. He opened the fly and she could see his erection.
“What’s that music you have on?” He asked.
“Opera.” She was now straddling a wheeled office chair.
“I get that,” he said. “It’s familiar. What is it?”
She still had almost an hour before the car would come for her – time enough to play.
"La Donna e Mobile. From Rigoletto,” she said stepping out of her shoes. She turned around, and reached her arm back to unhook her bra, then threw it onto the floor. She placed one foot on the coffee table and began slowly rolling a stocking down a long shapely leg.
“Really,” he replied slightly breathless. His hand moved slowly. She could see he was trying to make it last. “What’s it about?”
“There’s this innocent girl named Gilda. She’s a teenager. A virgin,” she said, tossing the stocking toward the screen and beginning to roll down the other one. “Her father, Rigoletto, is very protective and doesn’t let her out of his sight. She meets a young man in church and falls in love. She thinks he’s a poor student who loves her too.”
“But he’s not?” Dashiell asked, continuing to lightly stroke his shaft.
She shook her head as she began to play with her nipples. “He’s really the duke. And the duke is an evil rat-bastard seducer.”
“Tell me more.”
She moved her body into various positions. The music, her own opera mix, was now playing the Seguidilla from Carmen.
“Rigoletto works for the duke, so do a bunch of other guys, but they don’t like how Rigoletto always makes jokes at their expense, so they decide to kidnap Gilda. And they take her to the duke and …”
“Oh yeah. I like that,” Dashiell said as she wriggled out of her black panties, and spread her legs. Realizing the office chair would not work for what she had in mind, she blew him a kiss and went off screen for a moment, coming back pushing the ottoman, all while continuing the narrative.
“ … and the duke takes her,” she told him laying down with her legs out wide, stroking her pussy, which was exposed to the screen. She continued to move her legs in the air – up and down, side to side, circles, striking various poses, like a Bob Fosse dancer. “Takes her,” Dashiell repeated. “I like that.”
“He takes her every way he can. He takes her tied up and tied down. He takes her up the ass and in the mouth. He sucks on that virgin twat until she’s dying of pleasure, than slowly he sticks his big hard dick inside her and she feels like he’s cutting right through her, but she loves it.”
She sat up and shook her hair out like Rita Hayworth. “And then her daddy comes to rescue her, but she’s still crazy in love with that bad boy duke.”
She stood up, then for variety turned her back again, bent down, and with her face between her legs pulled her butt cheeks apart, giving him a dual entry view. An idea came to her. “Be right back,” she said before running to the bedroom.
“Crap, not now,” Dashiell said.
Maria Callas, Sempre Libera was blasting from the speakers.
She returned with a vibrating dildo.
“You got skills,” Dashiell shouted at the screen laughing. His cock looked like it was about to explode.
She licked her lips and continued the story, talking faster and faster while stroking and occasionally licking the phallus. “Rigoletto hires an assassin to take out the duke, and the duke goes out to the assassin’s sleazy inn, and the killer’s sister, Magdalena, is getting the duke drunk, so her brother can strike when he’s asleep. Meantime Gilda and her father are listening outside and watching through a window as the duke is making love to the killer’s sister.
“Tell me what Magdalena looks like,” Dashiell demanded.
“She’s a complete slut,” Alphonsine told him, arching her back with her legs up in the air. “She has long wild hair,” she said playing with her own. “And firm hard titties. And her pussy is always open for business,” she said as she spread her lips and plunged the toy inside of her.
“Oh God. Don’t stop,” Dashiell cried.
“But wait, there’s more,” she told him laughing. “Seriously, hold back for two more minutes.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Hands free,” she commanded.
“All right you tease,” he said putting his hands behind his head.
She was thrusting the dildo in and out, hugging herself and writhing.
“Rigoletto tells Gilda he’s sending her out of town and the duke is already a dead man. She begs him not to go through with the murder, but he grabs her and they leave. Then while daddy’s out making some arrangement, she sneaks back to warn her lover.” Alphonsine sat up, playing with her tits. “She’s wearing men’s clothes.”
“Why?”
“Because the night is dangerous. She’s outside the window at the inn. The duke’s sleeping, and Magdalena is begging her brother not to kill him because even though she’s a hardened whore who’s fucked hundreds of men, she can’t resist him.”
Alphonsine paused for a moment and looked at Dashiell’s face and said, “She loves him.”
“I can’t wait much …”
She continued on her back again, sliding the toy in and out of her hot, wet vagina, as Dashiell returned to stroking his cock. She was breathing heavily, pausing between words, “So, the killer, agrees to murder, the next person who, walks in, and let the duke live, and Gilda, goes into the inn, knowing she’ll be killed to save …”
“Oh God,” they both yelled at the same time.
“… save the duke,” she continued after a breath.
They were looking at each other’s image on the screen. She was naked. He was bare-chested, and she could see the sweat glistening on him, and the glob of cum, shiny on his pants.
“You’ve stained yourself,” she said. “I wish I was there to lick it off.”
“Camille, I know one thing’s for sure,” Dashiell said.
“Huh?”
“When I get back to the city, we’re going to the opera.”

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