0 comments/ 7500 views/ 0 favorites Dusk By: Soojagoddess The late afternoon sun has engulfed the room in a pale golden halo; shades are half way open, enough to leave the back half washed in a darker burnished palette. Furniture is carefully coordinated throughout the space. Tan couches, glass coffee table, stylish floor lamps, and a large soft bed with copper sheets against the far wall. The stillness is such that it would cause an inhabitant to get tingles across their skin; this is until the sound of two people lightly floats through the air. A man and a woman, laughter is the dominant sound until there is a muted click and the door swings open, softly sweeping over the carpet. She chuckles to herself as she walked through the door to place her purse on the low glass table. He watches her long shapely calves stride across the floor as though two perfectly balanced pendulums swing in lazy rhythm. Her thighs are hidden by a black pencil skirt but his eyes survey further up; a smile plays at his lips. The material clings to her curvy bottom and up further to her shapely back, exposed by a vibrant halter top. Red hair cascades over the top part of her shoulders. She hums in disappointment as she can't find something in her purse and bends a little more to get a better look. The view isn't lost on him and his smile broadens as he walks up behind her, an arm snaking around her waist while the other hugs her to him, around her shoulders. She laughs again lightly and leans her head back against his shoulder; her arms lay across his. She thanks him, an alto range voice, for the dinner and asks how long he will be staying. There is no answer, just light, mouthy kisses from her ear to the nape of her neck. He kisses with greater passion, tilting her head away while moving his hands to better grip a hip and shoulder. He presses his growing erection into the top of her backside. She moans a little, almost a hum and tries to turn to him but is held firmly by his hands. She is already wet for him; she can feel the moisture and her eyes close halfway at the feeling of emptiness between her legs. His hands pressure her to bend again; she complies and he kisses her should blades twice before bouncing her ass off is groin lightly, playfully. Her own hands pull her auburn hair over a shoulder before steadying herself on the arm of the couch to her slight right. He hikes her skirt up to expose soft orbs framed by black lace panties. His fingers rove over the material before slipping between her thighs; she gasps and bends forward accommodatingly. A thick appreciative growl rumbles in his chest. Deftly, he slaps and grips a cheek in each hand before kneeling behind her, kissing from her left cheek down to the back of her knee. As he kisses down, he pulls down her lingerie and lightly caresses her exposed pussy before kissing it. Her breathing is heavy and she spreads her feet out after carefully stepping out of the lace. Lips against lips as he licks and kisses her soft skin; her smell is heady and drugs his senses; already his need is rebelling at the confines of his slacks. He sucks at her and she grinds against his face, impatient for more. Kissing up her bottom again, he continues to her back and up further still until he is standing, his hard length pressing against her again. She arches her back to unbuckle his belt and gently shoves his pants down, exposing a painfully hard erection to her flesh. Long fingers deftly explore his skin and she steps forward, placing a knee on the arm of the soft couch, arching again to proffer her body to him. The effect is provocative and he steps to follow her though not giving into her obvious demand yet. His right hand reaches up, playing at her breast; his left explores the wetness between her legs again. She begs for him not to tease her, frustration grates at her voice and she reaches below to guide him to her. He consents this time and slowly enters; despite her readiness for him, she is still tight and he sets his jaw taking his time with her. Each slow thrust fills her head with a humidity of sorts, her thoughts are hazy and the raw ache of her pussy spreads through her body. She bends further as he penetrates her fully; he pauses again and kisses along her shoulders. He tells her how well and tight she feels, how her smell is an aphrodisiac, what he wants to do next... His hips rock, slowly at first; his cheek is still on her back. Her breathing matches his thrusts and she makes a small sound, a cry of relief. The noises she makes cause him to lose sanity, one shred at a time and his hips reflect his acquiescence to the base instincts he has to take her body harder. Her own moaning increases at the intensity of his passion and she whispers words of encouragement; her voice is breathy and full of lust. They move in unison and she grows quiet, only her breathing to be heard and a chuckle from him. Close to the edge, he can tell her body is building up for a climax... her back is becoming taught and her knees shake slightly. His left hand has been touching her gently, stroking in rhythm with his hips and he keeps his pressure even as a long, loud moan tears from her mouth. Her muscles ripple, squeezing his cock and he closes his eyes against the pressure, knowing he cannot hold on for long when her pussy hungrily clenches around him. Another moan but it becomes a cry, she is coming and the wet drips down between them; this is all he can handle and he grips her hips, grinding hard against her. He speaks again, tells her he is going to come, she responds through her moans, and asks him to cum on her ass and lower back. He does so, small gasps as each hot liquid rope clings to her skin. They stand there panting for some number of minutes, breathing becoming more regular before he asks her to wait. He walks to the bathroom, returning with a towel and wipes her bottom down; small kisses down her back again. When he is finished she takes the rest of her clothes off as he returns to the bathroom. The sound of the shower starts up and she follows him, a wan smile playing at her mouth; she still hungers for him. The bathroom door closes behind her and the golden room is left once again peaceful but for the muted sounds of rushing water and laughter. Dusk From the Private Memoirs of Edward Cullen It is now November 2011 and my long-awaited nuptials with the lovely (shall I say delicious) Bella Swan have passed. We are on this romantic private island off the coast of Brasil and we are about to experience our marital, carnal enjoyment. Oh, a vampire/human affair has not been without travail! Firstly, my bride's delicious fragrance has created tensions of which I have never known in my century of existence. It is true that her blood exudes an essence that elicits feeding frenzy in the most restrained of our kind but since Carlisle turned me in 1918 and under his tutelage, I have learned to resist human blood. Except for a brief rebellious moment when first turning that I went on the hunt for human blood (mindful to hunt only other killers of humans). But since that blood lust nearly a century ago, I have refrained from human blood without greatly missing it. That is, until coming in the proximity of Ms Swan. Her scent was overpowering. I could smell her blood that exuded through the thinnest layer of skin and it took all of my will to resist taking her; from devouring that precious, intoxicating fluid which my inner being craved. But with great control I not only refrained from killing Ms Swan, but could even tolerate being with her. Or, was I drawn to her? Was her blood scent a special pheromone that attracted only our kind. Needless to say I could not resist her, nor she me. There were times worse than others, when her scent became overbearing. I finally figured out the 28 day cycle when her blood would escape the containment of her body. She could sense my torment and took extra care, using tampons and pads to conceal it, but our sense of detecting blood is keener than that of sharks - all it takes is one drop. Bella was used to me spending the night in her room, watching her as she slept. What she did not know was my tantalizing, perhaps perverted fetish that I enjoyed on those nights of her menses. I would slip into the bathroom and take the used tampons of that day from the trash, slowly unwrap them and enjoy the intoxicating scent of her blood. I even ventured to taste them, sucking the blood from the cotton, desiring more - yet controlling myself from taking it from my peacefully sleeping lover in the next room. I was surprised at how erotic this taste of her blood was, for I found myself quite hard and could not resist stroking it while I smelled and tasted the life essence of my lover. It took me back to those times in 1918, a teenaged boy guiltily stroking his cock, daring not to go mad as this overpowering force took control of his body. Spending a century around teenage boys I have seen this act of self-gratification gain favor. It is considered normal now, yet I still feel a guilty, surreptitious pleasure doing it - especially while sucking the blood out of Bella's tampons. But that was then. Now, Bella and I are married and I am free to take my husbandly liberties with her body. There is always some risk for humans who are so frail. I must remember to grab pillows or the bed instead of my lover. I must remain in control for her safety. She has worn one of the lacy, revealing negligees that my sister Alice put in her luggage. I remove it from her shoulders, revealing her firm young breasts that until now I have only had the pleasure of feeling through her clothing. I pull her toward me, my face between those breasts and inhale. With my nose pressed against her fair skin the fragrance of her blood is quite strong, and I shiver with anticipation of joining with her. I am hard and Bella has her hand on me, stroking as she lays on her back on the bed. My fingers play in her wet slit for a while, then I get on top and she guides me into her. My cock is sliding into her when resistance is hit. I push and Bella gasps. Yes, she was a virgin, so rare in girls this century. I push on, enjoying the sensation of her warmth, of being inside her body, sharing this mutual feeling of love. Then it hits me - the most overpowering scent of her blood I have ever endured. With each stroke out of her the scent increases as If I had bitten her artery. I grab the headboard but it crushes in my fingers. I must control this appetite for her blood! I concentrate on the thrusting in and out of her. She is pushing toward each of my thrusts and it feels so good that I lose my lust for her blood and the scent becomes an intoxicating side note to this symphony of moaning and thrusting until finally Bella squeezes me in her thighs and digs her nails into my back cursing. My fingers rip into two pillows, sending feathers floating through the air as I feel my own fluids gushing forth into her. Bella is breathing heavily beside me. I am not out of breath - and wish I could be. Bella is covered in droplets of sweat and as I lick them from her breast can't help regretting that this too will be lost when she turns. I am enjoying the salty taste of her sweat and move my mouth down to her pubes. I can smell her blood here, it is strong and fresh. Lifting her leg, I press my face into her bloody crotch and lick the skin and hairs and shudder at the taste of her. Licking inside it is even fresher, as my tongue touches on the bloody edges of her torn hymen. Bella is enjoying this as I devour the last of her red blood and my white blood and move my tongue to her clit to excite her anew.