‘RICH, RED BOUDOIRS await the bold among the chosen cattle,’ I emerged from the shadows of the dingy alley. Slender, pale body, hugged by black corset, black skirt, and torn fishnet stockings. Thundering high heels pierced the pavement—burning red fire in my hair. Big piercing eyes with thirsty sparkles floating about my irises. I was a vision of style and promise of alluring danger.
There he stood, under the rain, leaning on the brick wall of the rundown building. Illuminated by the sickly yellow light of the street lamp, he was the perfect hors d’oeuvre for the evening.
The man was tall. A long black trench coat hung from his broad shoulders. His messy blonde hair gave him a youthful charm, while his deep blue eyes and prominent square jaw spoke of masculine maturity. As I addressed him, he looked at me.
We understood each other immediately, like old souls who lost their ways long ago. I wondered if he was the reincarnation of a past love, one of the few I cared about in my five hundred years.
He scanned me from head to toe. He heard my words. He smiled. His lips parted.
‘Why ya Tolkien’ ’bout cows, love?’ He shattered the illusion.
‘Good thing you hit the genetic lottery,’ I rubbed my brow.
‘Wos at?’
‘Do you want to fuck?’ I sighed, trying to avoid
furthering my headache.
‘Ye ‘avin a gig…’
‘Finish that sentence, and I walk,’ I raised my
finger.
Whatever hamster was running in his head, it increased the wheel’s speed, and somehow enough
brain power materialized to keep his mouth shut.
‘Good,’ I caressed his still, attractive jawline with my long fingernail. ‘And talk properly
when you are with me! Understood?’
He swallowed hard. His prominent Adam’s apple jumped. He had a small stubble covering it. The
slight vulnerability lodged in his muscular neck added more appeal to the man.
‘Yes, miss,’ he forced his lips and tongue to form proper sounds.
I showed him my back, and he obediently followed my swaying hips. The edge of my skirt danced around my thighs, and the enticing sight kept him close. The blessing and the curse of being an ancient
being locked into the body of an attractive young woman meant I had to pick my mates in places like this. I tended to leave a lasting impression wherever I went.
Stunning redheads with a gothic vibe and a visage transcending common beauty standards were hard to ignore—a trait that had uses but not when I needed to feed. And there was nothing more delicious than handsome men hypnotized by my aura.
It was funny. I was now naked on top of him.
His cock was splitting my labia, and his manhood invaded my vagina with a ripping sound. We both bared
everything in front of one another. Yet, we didn’t know each other’s names. I had no use for his, and he was too focused on my swinging boobs to even think about asking for mine.
I aimed to have his cock as soon as possible. Feeling the throbbing power of his manhood, expanding the walls of my moist cave formed a connection that my kind lacked. The torrid flesh of a potent horny penis overshadowed almost any type of touch. Only one stood above all else, and I kept that one for the finale.
I always loved starting with a good long ride. This pose provided me with so many advantages. It displayed me in a way most men found irresistible, and the full access to my plump ass cheeks and heavy breasts subdued the alarms in their heads.
There was no way they didn’t have the tiny voice at the back of their mind screaming not to follow me. To get out of the room. To not stick their dicks in my pussy. But the allure of spending a night with me was much stronger than any instinct for self-preservation. And once I was on top, the game was over.
I also liked dominating. Being on top allowed me to guide the tempo of the penetration. I used those men-like tools, so abusing the complete available set was part of the deal. Lastly, from above, I was able to mark my target. While they were mushing my naked gifts, my eyes were fixated on their circulatory system. The fitter the man, the better. Just like my new friend. He had a prominent web of blue veins stretching from his muscular shoulders and covering his chest. The wild pulsation of his carotid arteries was enough even to make someone as experienced as I mad with lust.
My vagina responded in kind and gushed tons of nectar, providing such smooth friction that he seemed
ready to burst at any moment. The play agreed with me, so I had to prevent that. And what better way than to slam my buttocks on his face? I abandoned his cock and twirled my body before he could react. My juicy vulva smeared his face, and his mouth locked to my labia.
The whiff of sweat and pheromones invaded my nostrils. The enticing aroma awakened my sexual
appetite in full. My lips wrapped around his oily shaft, and I engulfed the whole dick. It was long and thick, but I had more than four centuries of experimentation behind me. I quickly guided his shaft behind my teeth and welcomed the tip past the back of my throat without stomach convulsions or gagging on it. His balls touched my chin. But I knew men liked when you choked on their cocks – the rivers of saliva came to mask my skill.
We both slurped and licked, but only one of us had knives in our mouths. My hunting teeth stretched
and glided around the veiny shaft. He didn’t feel the danger, but I enjoyed playing with the idea in my head. If only he knew how close he was to losing his most precious body part.
I would never. I was not an animal. But dark thoughts were part of my nature, and I didn’t see harm in
letting the idea run free in my mind. The young man was very rough around the edges. But for a one-night stand kind of guy, he demonstrated sufficient expertise. And that was a lot. Pretty boys glided through life on their charm. Seeing how he actively worked to please me meant I was here for the long haul. From a quick bite, he turned into the main meal.
I even let him drill me doggy style. It was not that I didn’t like it, but the way men felt powerful when
I was facing away, and all my intimate parts were at their disposal, which rubbed me the wrong way.
Yet, once in a while, I stumbled upon such capable lovers that I saw no reason to deny myself the
joy of letting go and being an average woman, even if only for a few minutes.
I helped by pushing my ass back with a vengeance. My head was buried in the sheets, and I bit the fabric. The wet sounds of my buttocks slapping against his rock-solid abs filled my ears. I moaned. I hissed. I whimpered. My drooling cold vagina bathed his pulsating cock. My walls were squeezing his shaft. His testicles were drumming on the bottom of my puffy pussy.
As if I were a girl discovering the pleasures of actual good sex, I let him pound me till I felt the time
was approaching.
‘I want to see you,’ I said, quickly overpowered him.
Even this was not enough to push him away. Obviously, a more petite body was not supposed to possess the strength to flip a man of his size. I sat on top of him once again. My labia pushed
his foreskin, and the bare gland of his cock wiggled inside me. My bum dropped to his balls. I began
smacking my ass down like a woman possessed. My trembling cheeks clapped, and my grip over his shaft was demanding satisfaction.
His testicles were collected into one single powerful unit. The blasts of cum smeared my pussy. The white
magma rushed to splash my innards, and I vocalized my excitement about the powerful discharge.
I licked my lips. Then my teeth. My mouth opened wide, and I slammed my head to his neck. While
he was hurling his semen inside me and reeling in the bliss of the orgasm; my canines pierced his skin and sank into his artery.
My lips covered the shameful display, and the blood spilt on my tongue. My eyes filled with cracks.
My sides burned, and I wore the same colour as my hair.
I was swallowing his blood while my vagina was gushing. The contrasting sensations were among the
main reasons why I fed like this. Allowing one liquid to enter my body while releasing another provided such a unique experience that I couldn’t return to the old ways.
His warm blood invigorated me. My slow heartbeat drummed in my ears like an explosion. In this moment of the absolute intimate connection, where two naked bodies separated from below but connected at the top, I felt the most alive. This time was different. He did lose some of his girth, but the penis was still inside me. The throbbing of his tool forced me to acknowledge my
vaginal needs.
‘I will let you live,’ grinning, I licked his wounds.
On the verge of death, I left him. He watched me with big eyes filled with pure terror as I dressed.
I tossed a sheet over him and gave him one last bloody kiss. This time on the lips.
‘Help will arrive soon,’ I promised.
My name is Valerie. Soon, I will come and claim you again.
Slowly descending the steps of the cheap hotel, I called the hospital using his phone.
‘Hang in there,’ I said to nobody. The sun was about to rise. I hurried to my lair.
THE END.
