3 comments/ 23958 views/ 2 favorites The Hunger By: Gojenngo It was dark; the night so black as to be suffocating. The city around her had turned into a concrete jungle only one which was void of all wild life. She walked quickly keeping her head down so as to appear submissive. She knew that direct eye contact would be seen as a challenge and she wanted to avoid anything of the sort. She was on a mission of sorts; she had a specific goal in mind and there wasn't anything that would keep her from her destination. The city slowly came to life. She moved from the desolate, deserted section of town where life had lost all hope into that area of the city that vibrated with life. The music poured out of the clubs, bars and various joints in a steady stream that washed over her. Throughout the years she'd come to love all music from the classics once witnessed in the great halls of London to the current techno wave the promised to beat on until the break of day. There was worth in each and she found that no matter what the music is soothed her savage beast. Her beast slithered just beneath the surface. It was late; she'd waited too long and now paid the price in pain. Her heart beat a fierce tempo within her chest, the steady rhythm mimicking that of the music that surrounded her. The blood didn't simply flowed within her veins, is surged back and forth like the tide. Her breath came out in a shallow pant and she fought to take back the reins on her hunger. She comforted herself, telling herself that nourishment was near. The litany repeated itself over and over in her mind until she had once again gained control over herself. After all these years she should be beyond the need but the hunger seemed to grow exponentially each year. Long ago she accepted herself and what she had become. The choice had never been hers; the disease had been inflicted upon her one night when she made the mistake of walking home unescorted. From that moment on she ceased to be a well bred refined lady and had become what all men feared. Forced to leave her friends, family and the only life she'd ever known she had walked off into the night never looking back. Once infected the choice had been simple, either walk away or die. Still human in her mind she possessed the self-preservation necessary to chose life not knowing what the quality of that life would be. Years later she learned life's lesson only too well. She knew that there was no place for her in the mortal world but that didn't stop her from existing just beneath the surface. She walked among them, sensed on some animal level but never really seen. There was still a part of her that needed the contact, the constant touch and connection with the world from which she'd come. But it was this need the put her and those around her in danger this night. She was hungry, the need growing each time she sensed blood. Pulling her cloak more tightly around her, she continued to walk through the crowd. She tried to close her senses, to block out the scent of heat and blood. She knew how to hide herself so that they couldn't see her yet it took a different kind of control to block out the sound and scent of all that blood. She shouldn't have come out on this night nor allowed herself the luxury of walking among them but it was the only way to get what she need. Ah, but that was a lie. She could have got what she needed without walking among them. She had grown stronger, more powerful over the years and possessed the ability to do many things. Instead, she chosen to torment and test herself by taking the difficult road. There were rules, her own as well as those of her kind and she obeyed them all. To deny the rules was to risk disorder, detection and death from her own kind as well as the humans. There were many stories throughout history when the feared and the unknown where hunted down and destroyed. She wouldn't see that done to herself or her people. Sensing her own resolve diminishing, she stopped. Standing still she remained unmoved as the city and all its humanity moved passed her. Time and time again human flesh brushed past her never knowing she was there. She appeared like a cold spot, a space on the sidewalk that everyone instinctively moved to avoid. If someone missed it and come in contact with her the sensation was one of cold, still air. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one certain to send shivers coursing over their skin. Opening her senses, for one moment she let the world know she was there. In that same instant, she let the warmth of humanity, the scent of their skin and blood, both living, wash over her. Her hunger flared and the world turned its attention to her. In that same instant she sent herself soaring. They were waiting for her. "Kalaya." Cain greeted her without warmth. "Where is he?" His face tightened. He, along with every other vampire, had sensed her hunger but that wasn't what worried him. He had sensed her power. It was a power that had taken years if not centuries to amass but this was the first time he had felt her presence so pronounced. She had kept it hidden well and that was what worried him. Kalaya sensed Cain's apprehension and anger but acknowledge neither. There would be time enough later to discuss this latest development. Right now she had more important things to see to. She didn't need to open herself up. Instead she reached out with a single sense and found what she was looking for. "Never mind; I will find him myself." "You already have." It was his warning to her, Cain's way of letting her know that no matter her power he was still older, and stronger, then her. Kalaya slipped the hood of her cloak from her head revealing long locks of hair that curled down her back and stopped only when they reached her narrow waist. Death had robbed her skin of all its warmth and color making the red of her hair and the green of her eyes more pronounced. Her body was still that of a nineteen year old with high, firm breasts, a narrow waist and long lean legs. She moved passed him and into the hall. The building was old, the grounds older. In all the years it had stood here nothing had been done to bring it into the modern world. The only light was that from candles, wall sconces and candelabra. The halls were wide, the furniture antique and stone walls covered with tapestries. Cain didn't bother to follow her. He had his own business to tend to but tomorrow would be a different story. He expected that they would be having visitors soon. Lucien was waiting for her. He was human and he was hers. He had just finished stroking the fire, the only warmth since there was no electricity, and stood at her entrance. He didn't say anything but just stood and stared. He was beautiful. Tall with dark hair and darker eyes his shoulders were broad, his waist and hips narrow and his legs muscular. His chest was bare and his black slacks already unbuttoned. She walked over and silently slid her hands over his chest. Her palms were smooth and skimmed along the surface of his skin like water. With the tip of her finger she flicked his nipple, her cool touch caused the sensitive nub to pucker and harden. He knew better then to touch her. He sensed the tenuous control she had on her hunger. If he touched her or provoked her in any way she would likely snap and while she'd never intentionally hurt him the feeding would be unnecessarily painful. Kalaya continued to slide her hands over his body, a appreciative growl escaping her as her hands found his arousal. "Mine." Her possessiveness made him smile. "Yes, Mistress. Everything I am belongs to you." In the next moment they were both on the bed, his body was pinned beneath her and both of them had been divested of their clothes. Her cold pale body crouched above his dark warm one and for one brief moment he felt fear. It raged within his body and pumped through his blood. Her strength and power once again reminded him of just who and what she was. With her hands braced upon his chest, Kalaya let her head fall back and forcefully lowered herself onto Lucien's cock. Grinding his teeth against the pain, he clenched his buttocks and lifted his hips the way she liked. She responded by rocking back and forth. Her body refused to heat but some responses continued even after death. Within seconds she was wet and working her way towards an orgasm. Lucien felt his own response, his cock swelled and his balls tightened up against his body. With his hands locked onto her waist he enjoyed the way she rode him. Kalaya picked up the pace, her movements becoming more frantic as her body started to tighten around him. Lucien braced himself. Kalaya, her eyes bright with pleasure, pain and hunger, parted her lips and bared her teeth. With lightening speed she struck, her fangs broke through the skin of his neck just below where the artery beat and immediately her mouth filled with blood. Greedily, she sucked taking his life in with deep gulps. His body had tightened beneath her, Kalaya continued to fuck him, her body working back and forth frantically as she fed her hunger. She was in a frenzy, the scent of sex and blood drove her to the point of ecstasy. She wanted him, Lucien was the one man that she need to have and that need ensured she never went too far or took too much. She wanted to feed from him, not kill him. But tonight she'd waited too long, the hunger was fierce and the beast she could no longer control. Lucien gripped at the sheets of the bed, he didn't struggle, whimper or beg but simply surrendered. It was his surrender that finally broke through. Kalaya realized what she was doing. Lucien's blood had ceased to flow freely, his heart had weakened and the beats had become sporadic. She knew she had to stop now or risk loosing him forever. Carefully, she drew back, her body tight with unfulfilled desire. Blood dripped from her chin and on to his chest. "Lucien." No answer. "Lucien, open your eyes." Lucien struggled to the surface. He felt as if he were swimming through cold, black water. "Finish it." "No, I've taken too much already." With growing horror, Kalaya realized that there was little choice. It was either take Lucien all the way or let him die. "Darling, I'm sorry." Lucien smiled. "Everything I am is yours, would you deny having that for all eternity?" Kalaya slowly lowered herself until her breasts were pressed against his chest and she had covered him with her body. Her nostrils flared and filled with the scent of blood. Slowly, she reached out with the tip of her tongue and licked at the trail of blood still flowing from the wound on his neck. How many times had she fed from him? Each time had been more erotic and satisfying then the one before it but tonight promised to be like nothing else. Once again she lowered herself onto his cock. Her body held the warmth of Lucien's blood and her heart beat in time to his. Lucien whimpered, his hand clenched spasmodically at his sides. Carefully this time Kalaya covered the wound with her mouth and began feeding, her body moving in the same rhythm. Lucien's body slowly went limp, his head falling to one side. Kalaya sat up and opened the vein on her wrist. Holding it high above his head she let the precious blood drip down into his mouth. Several seconds passed before he stirred. Before she could react Lucien had a hold of her wrist and had pulled it to his mouth. His teeth, still blunt, gnawed at the skin trying to open up a bigger wound. There was pain as he drank from her. It was the first time in over two hundred years since someone had fed from her. Intoxicated, Lucien continued to drink. With both hands he held her wrist to his mouth. It was a physical pleasure and he felt his body rise in response. Subconsciously, he realized that Kalaya was trying to move away from him. Easily, he rolled over and pinned her beneath him and forced his cock deeper into her body. Kalaya screamed and wrapped her legs around his waist. She stopped trying to fight him. Instead, she lifted her head and once again sunk her teeth into his neck. Lucien wasn't deterred, in fact the feeling only encouraged him. Joined as they were, both in body and in blood, he sought to push them toward the inevitable conclusion. For several long minutes they moved together; blood pumped from one to the other while their bodies filled each other. Finally, Lucien broke free and released his hold on Kalaya's wrist. Staring down at her, his mouth red with her blood, blood that had come from his body, he said, "We are now joined as no others that have gone before us. From this moment on, all that I am is your and all that you are is mine." Kalaya breathed a barely audible reply. "I am yours as you are mine." In that moment they both climaxed; Kalaya's body arched off the bed as Lucien filled her full of his warm, blood tinted come. The heat of it filled her as her body caressed him of every drop. Together, they collapsed their bodies entwined. Kalaya turned her head but if she was surprised it didn't show. "This complicates matters." Cain stood at the door to her chambers. He'd obviously witnessed their feeding off one another and quickly surmised the evening's events. The Hunger Tonight the hunger is stronger than it's ever been before. I am ravenous. My whole body aches for you. I don't think my fingers or a vibrator will satisfy me – not completely. God, I need it so badly! I wish that you were here, for only you can fully satisfy the cravings that I'm experiencing tonight. I need you to take me into your arms where I feel completely safe – knowing that you would never hurt me; accepted – knowing that you accept me as I am and wouldn't try to change me or bend me to your will; and, most of all, so FREE. With you I feel free in every sense of the word – physically, emotionally and sexually. I want to live out my innermost fantasies with you – fantasies that I've never shared with anyone else. I want to share your fantasies and help you fulfill them. Let me look into your eyes. I want to see my desire, my hunger, mirrored there. Tell me you want me. Tell me you have to have me. Tell me you need this as badly as I do. Kiss me. I long to taste your lips. I want to feel them gently pressing against mine. I need to feel your warm, moist tongue dancing seductively with mine. Let me feel your passion, your desire, your need, in your kiss. Touch me. Stroke my face. Run your fingers through my long silky hair. Caress my full soft breasts. Pinch my erect nipples gently. Run your hand slowly down my belly, between my legs. Stroke my soft wetness with your fingers. Find my hard little love button and rub it gently. Enter me with your fingers. Bring me to the brink of ecstasy and watch me cum for you. I want you to see that so badly. Taste my body. I want to feel your tongue on my neck, my earlobes, my nipples. Run your hot tongue down my belly, pausing to trace circles around my navel. Place gentle, feathery kisses on the inside of my soft, creamy thighs, my smoothly shaved mound and then. . .yes, then make love to me with your mouth. Lick the tender pink petals of the beautiful love flower in the secret place between my thighs. Taste the sweet nectar that glistens on the soft petals. Flick your tongue across the hard little bud. Pull it gently into your mouth and suck it lightly. Enter my secret cavern with your tongue. Love me with your mouth until I begin to tremble and whimper and my sweet nectar flows freely onto your tongue. Let me taste your body. I want to explore every inch of you. Let me run my hot wet tongue along your collarbone and up the side of your neck, pausing to draw your earlobe into my mouth and suck it gently. I want to tease your nipples with my fingertips, gently tracing circles around them, scratching lightly. I want to draw them into my mouth, sucking softly, running circles around them with my tongue. I want to run my tongue across your chest and down your belly, dipping it in and out of your navel slowly. Let me make love to you with my mouth. I want to feel your rigid tool on my tongue. I want to kiss it, lick it, stroke it – softly at first, then more and more firmly - with my warm, moist mouth. The taste of it is heavenly. Let me feel it sliding between my lips – faster and faster – until you give me the ultimate reward for my oral talents: your love juice filling my mouth, coating my throat as you moan deeply with pleasure. I long to feel the weight of your body pressing down on mine, our palms pressed together, fingers intertwined, as you pin me to the mattress and push my thighs apart with your knees, preparing to ravage me as never before. I need to feel your manhood inside me. The soft silky walls of my cavern give way to accept you, embrace you. Our bodies become one. Slide in and out – slow or fast, it doesn't matter. Just take me. Have your way with me. Take my body and use it for your pleasure. For, in doing so, you bring me the greatest pleasure imaginable. Stroke me until my body begins to quiver, then shudder uncontrollably as I am wracked with wave after wave of orgasmic bliss. I want to feel you begin to tremble, lose control, as you thrust deeper, faster. My walls close in on you, squeeze you firmly and push you over the edge. Your body tenses as you fill me with the hot sticky fluid of your sexual fulfillment. I crave it so desperately. In reality, I am alone in the darkness. There is no sound in this room except my own labored breathing. I touch myself, while the beautiful images of our lovemaking, and all of the sensations they invoke, float through my mind and take control of my body. They carry me away. I spiral down, deeper and deeper into the abyss of overwhelming sexual desire and the intense need for release. My fingers caress the hard little bud, the swollen petals. I hear myself whimpering softly; it sounds far away. As I reach climax, my head is thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open a little as a deep moan escapes me and my back arches involuntarily. I stop the caresses and hold very still, letting the orgasm wash over me. I ride those waves for a long time. They seem to carry me out to sea. Moments later, I am asleep, but my sleep is not peaceful. My dreams are filled with visions of making love to you. But I cannot find complete release alone. Tonight, I need you to take me to that heavenly place where there is no worry, no stress, no fear; where time stands still and it seems that there is no one else in the world but you and me – our bodies intertwined in passion, united in desire and need; where we feel no hunger, no thirst, no cold, no pain. . .only the all-consuming sexual pleasure we can give to each other. How I long to be with you, right now, sharing the feelings and sensations of the most intimate of human acts – making love. The Hunger Authors Note: This is my ninth story and it is a fantasy of a guy I knew only online. We’d had cyber sex a few times and even though I knew logically that getting together in person was next to impossible because of the distance it didn’t take away from the passion I felt for him, or my desire to be with him, as you’ll see in the story. As always comments are more than welcome and please take a look at my other stories. ****************************** I lay awake in bed listening to my own breathing. There was nothing else to listen to. The entire house was silent. I was all alone in the house and it felt as though the house was trying to remind me of the fact with its still, dark, silence. I glanced at the bedside clock. It was almost 5 in the morning. I hadn’t been able to sleep much except for the occasional half hour of sleep that would take me over, until for some unknown reason I woke up in the dark silence again. It was almost 5. That meant that Devin would be home soon. He was working night shifts again which meant that, since his brother had offered to temporarily move out of the house while I was visiting so I could have his room, I was utterly alone. I never enjoyed being alone, no one did. But for some reason on this night in this house I felt it more strongly than I ever had. But, Devin would be home soon. We could sit and talk for a while until he got too tired, then maybe with him in the next room I wouldn’t feel so alone and I’d be able to sleep. Of course, it wasn’t thoughts of him in the next room I was really hoping for to make me not feel alone. In a dark corner of myself, a part I tried to ignore, there was a yearning to lie down beside him in his bed and feel him wrap his arms around me and hold me close as I drifted off to sleep. I knew I could never ask that of him, I knew I could never have that of him. It would be too complicated and neither of us needed that. We’d been friends for years with miles between us. We’d gotten to know each other and trust each other very well, but this was the first time we’d ever even seen each other’s faces. I’d taken a couple of weeks of my holiday time and flown down to Nevada to spend some time with him. It was wonderful to be able to watch his emotions and thoughts dance across his face as he talked as opposed to just reading his thoughts or hearing his voice. We’d had so much fun together, we’d hugged when I got off the plane and as we’d talked we would occasionally hug or touch when needed, but I’d been careful of how much physical contact there was between us. I was very attracted to him, with his tall athletic body and his soft blonde hair that went so perfectly with his beautiful blue eyes. He could crawl out of bed with a little bit of scruff on his chin, his hair looking like some giant hand had mussed it up wearing a pair of wrinkled boxers and a t-shirt that had definitely seen better days and his glasses half falling off his face as he stumbled around the house, and still look like something out of a wet dream. He was one of the sweetest guys I knew, perfect in almost every way, even his flaws made him seem wonderful, but I knew I could never have him in any way besides friendship. I knew in a week I’d be leaving and might never be able to see him again and I knew from my own experiences that I wouldn’t be able to handle it if anything happened between us while I was here. That didn’t change the fact that I wanted him to hold me, touch me, kiss me, lay me down and worship my body. We’d shared very intimate details of ourselves and out lives with each other, things most people would only tell a long time lover, but we’d always been open about things. He knew what he could do to turn me on in a heartbeat. I knew what to do to make him beg me to touch him, to give him the ultimate release. My body was dying to feel him, but my mind had stayed strong, knowing it would only end in pain and so I didn’t act on the urges that raged through my body at just the thought of him. I knew I’d still be awake when he got home, I also knew that my body was dying to be touched and if he came home and my body was still feeling this high level of need, that my mind might not be strong enough to resist. I closed my eyes and pictured him coming home from work. Locking the front door behind him as he came inside, then starting to remove his shirt as he walked towards his room. He slipped the belt out of his pants and undid the button at the top. He walked into his room and I could hear him getting undressed. I imagined him crawling into his own bed and under the warm blankets. I imagined myself getting out of my own bed and reaching for my robe to slip on over my own nakedness. I walked into his room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He opened his eyes and looked up at me. “I’m lonely” I said in a small voice. Without a word he pulled the sheets back for me to crawl into the bed with him. I snuggled down beside him under the blankets and turned onto my side. Without a word he turned on his side as well, spooning my body against his. We didn’t quite fit because he was a good 5 or 6 inches taller than I was, which put his knees into my calves, but our upper bodies matched almost perfectly. He slipped his arm around my waist and I snuggled back against his warm body. I lay there in his arms for a few moments before I felt his hand reach for the tie of my robe. I felt him undo the tie and slip his hand inside the robe to rest against my torso. His hand was so warm against my cool skin that it made me want to take off the robe and lay my flesh against his. Instead I snuggled back against him more, but this time his body wasn’t all softness and warmth. I could feel him growing hard against my ass as I snuggled into him. At the feeling of his cock growing hard against my body I moaned low in my throat and shivered slightly. His hand inside my robe pulled me closer to his body and I felt his other hand move my hair away from my head and his warm mouth trail along the skin of my neck. I felt him breathing low and hot against my skin and I wanted so desperately for him to kiss me, lick me, suck on my flesh and make me quiver. By now my fantasy had pushed my already aching body over the line of horniness into pure need. My entire body felt like a large throbbing hormone begging to be released. As I imagined him rolling me onto my back and slowly pulling the robe away from my body I slipped my hands to my breasts, lightly trailing them barely above my nipples, making them tighten at the soft touch. In my mind it was his hand and mouth on my breasts and nipples driving me insane with pleasure as my own hands massaged the flesh of my breasts and rubbed and squeezed my hard nipples. As my minds eye saw Devin moving his mouth down my body so did my own hand move down my body. As I imagined his tongue dancing lightly across my aching clit, so did my own warm fingertips dance across my clit. My body was so full of sensations and nerve endings I felt as if I’d explode. As I imagined him slipping his tongue deep inside my cunt I moved my own fingers to my entrance and as I slowly slipped them inside my very hot and very wet pussy I could smell the strong, masculine scent of his cologne. That confused me. My fantasies had never seemed real enough for me to notice scents. My hand slowed inside my body and my eyes grudgingly opened. My body that just seconds ago had been a giant pulsing thing full of need was now full of adrenaline, embarrassment, and humiliation. I grabbed for the sheets and pulled them against my naked body as I looked up to see Devin standing over the bed looking down at me with something in his eyes I couldn’t read. I didn’t know what to say. I was in his house, supposed to have been asleep, and he’d come home to find me masturbating in his brother’s bed. Even for me it was more than a little bizarre. I looked up at him without making direct eye contact. I didn’t know what my eyes showed and whatever it was I doubted it was anything I wanted him to see. We stayed like that in silence for a few moments until he cleared his throat and said, “I didn’t think you’d still be awake when I got home.” I looked up at him and could almost feel the relief that he hadn’t yelled at me or simply left the room show in my face. “I couldn’t sleep.” I said as I clutched the sheet to my body a little tighter. I looked over at the bedside clock, it was only 5:15, if had come home at the usual time he wouldn’t have caught me. “Why did you come home early?” I asked, this time avoiding his eyes. I knew under the relief that he hadn’t been upset there was still embarrassment and humiliation in my eyes and I didn’t want him to see it. “I called in a favor so I could get off a little early tonight. I didn’t feel like staying there any longer. I felt like I needed to be home tonight,” he looked down at me then, his eyes showing a heat I’d never seen in his eyes before, but that I’d seen in the eyes of other men when they were thinking about sex, but there was a tenderness in those eyes too that most men didn’t have when they thought about sex, “maybe now I know why.” He said the last in almost a whisper, as if he didn’t really want me to hear him. He turned away from the bed and started moving towards the door. I reached out for his arm without thinking and he stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t turn to face me he just stood there. I didn’t know why I’d tried to stop him, I didn’t know what to say, I said the only thing I could think to say, “I’m sorry.” He turned slowly then, his eyes still holding that heat in them, but the heat had faded a little bringing more of the tenderness into his face. “Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He said, again his voice was almost a whisper. “There is something to be sorry for. We’re friends, I’m a guest in your house, and you come home and find me getting myself off in your brother’s bed. I know I’ve done some stupid and occasionally some slightly kinky things, but this goes past them all into being just wrong and I know that and I’m sorry.” I said and I could hear the desperation in my voice, feel it showing in my eyes. I needed him to forgive me for this, to be okay with this, for it not to change things. He looked down at me and I saw a small grin show on his face. “You think this is wrong because you’re in my house and you were in my brother’s bed masturbating and I caught you?” He laughed then, but it wasn’t a humors laugh, it was an almost cold laugh, “Almost every night you’ve been here when I’ve gotten home from work I’ve come in here and watched you sleep before I went to my own bed. When I did finally go to my own bed I thought of you, naked under those sheets, your skin, how it would feel, smell, taste. I’ve thought of you every night and gotten off before I fell asleep. Most night I dreamt of you and woke up needing to clean the sheets because even in my dreams I crave you. Don’t feel bad on account of the fact that you finally let yourself do what I’ve been doing since you got here.” I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe he’d said that, done that. I mean, he’d never showed any signs of sexual attraction since I’d been here, no lingering hugs, no heat in his eyes, he’d even seen me change once and shown nothing besides impatience because we were running late. Maybe he’d just been forcing himself to hold back like I had. I looked up into his eyes and saw an almost physical pain in his face. His hands were balled into fists at his sides as if he were angry. I didn’t know what I’d done that had made him suddenly angry. I dropped my hand from his arm and pulled back on the bed until my back was almost plastered against the headboard. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but if he was angry and needed to lash out, I knew I wanted to be as far away from him as I could be so I didn’t get hit with any flying debris. As soon as I pulled back the anger flowed out of his face, replaced with an emotion I couldn’t name. He took a half step towards me, looked at my face, saw the panic, and backed up again. “I’ve scared you. I’m sorry.” He said, sounding very much like a little boy. He started to turn away again. This time I didn’t reach for him, I just said, “You didn’t scare me, I was just being cautious. I saw the anger in you, I just didn’t want to be in the way when you released that anger, but I know you would never hurt me.” He stopped, turned just his head back to look at me, “I wasn’t angry.” He said softly. I sat up a little in the bed and the sheet slipped down my chest. I grabbed for it as quickly as I could but I knew he’d seen a flash of breast and still hard nipple. His eyes focused on my chest through the thin cloth of the sheet, as if he’d tear the cloth away with his eyes. “If it wasn’t anger what was it?” I asked, keeping my voice low and even, trying to will his eyes back up to my face and away from my chest. He did look into my eyes then and I could see the need in them again, “It was self-control. Seeing you there, like that, seeing what I saw when I came home, hearing you, walking into this room and smelling you, it’s all pushing my self-control to the limit.” This time I laughed the cold harsh laugh, “You’re not the only one.” I said with a hint of bitterness to my voice that I wished I could have taken back the second it came out. He looked down at me with those eyes still full of heat, but there was questioning in them now, “What do you mean?” He asked in that little boy voice again, as if he were afraid of the answer. I pulled my eyes away from his and looked at his feet, “I mean that you’re not the only one whose self control has been pushed to the limit this past week. You think it’s been easy for me to see you and not touch you? You think I haven’t wanted to wrap my arms around your neck and kiss you? You think I haven’t had to force myself to stay still when all I wanted to do was to hold you, kiss you, touch you, feel you, and be with you? You think you’re the only one here who has desires? Your not. Tonight I was lying in bed and I knew my self-control was just about gone. I knew if I didn’t release some of my sexual need soon I was going to do something I shouldn’t, that’s why you found me laying here like that. So that when you got home I wouldn’t just jump you. So don’t you be telling me about self control.” I’d gotten angry. I needed to. I knew myself; I knew that for me anger could override any other emotion, including lust if I wanted it too. If I could stay angry with him long enough for us to both get to sleep in our own respective beds maybe we could talk calmly about things in the morning. He looked down at me with a look of almost sadness in his eyes, “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, again in that little boy voice, so soft and so fragile that I just wanted to hug him and make it all go away, all the complications, all the urges and just sooth him. “Why didn’t you?” I asked instead. He smiled slightly, “Good point.” He said with a little bit of humor in his voice. Maybe if he could joke we could control things. I looked up at him and moved forward a little more, keeping a stronger grip on the sheet than I had last time. I sat closer to the edge, closer to him, looked up at him and said, “So, what do we do now?” He looked down at me, I could see the heat was back in his eyes, but there was confusion to, and again that soft tenderness I’d seen earlier. I watched the confusion fill his eyes, then I saw the heat take over and before I could think of what that meant he leaned down towards me, put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled me gently to him. Our lips touched in a tender kiss. His lips were so soft and so warm. My brain said I should pull away, but the rest of me didn’t want to. Not now, not ever. I pressed my lips against his and felt his hand slide from the back of my neck lower, across my shoulders, down to my back as he kissed me. I pressed my lips to him harder, forcing him to open his mouth for me and the moment he did and my tongue slipped inside his mouth, the passion and need took over. I felt out of control, my body was in the driver’s seat and all I could do was lay back and enjoy the ride. And I certainly was enjoying it. I kissed him with a passion so fierce he pulled back from the kiss and looked into my face, his hand still on my back. “We shouldn’t,” he said softly, as if even as he spoke the words he didn’t really mean them. Part of my brain was screaming at me that he was right, that we shouldn’t do this, but the rest of me didn’t care if we should or not. “Your right, we shouldn’t, but I know if we don’t we’ll always wonder, maybe ever regret it. Besides, I want you and right now I’m not willing to stop.” Before he could respond I put my hand on the back of his neck and pulled his head towards mine again. He’d been standing beside the bed and only bent his head down to kiss me, when I pulled him down he lost his balance and almost fell on top of me on the bed. I looked into his face and saw the need in him and I knew at that moment that he would stop if I would. I knew he was stronger then I was. I knew he could control himself far better then I ever could. But I didn’t want him to control himself, I wanted him to let down his self control and take me like he had all those nights in his fantasies and in his dreams. The thought made a moan tear from my throat and he looked into my eyes. I knew he could see the hunger, because that’s what it was. It wasn’t passion, it wasn’t lust, it was a hunger. My body was like some ravening beast and he was the prey I would pounce on and devour. I moved my face to his, to kiss him again and he pulled away. I put my hand on the back of his neck trying to force his lips to mine, but he was stronger then I was, so very much stronger. I had a mental image of his body ramming into me with all his strength and I moaned again. He leaned down towards me slowly and placed a single chaste kiss on my lips and pulled away, “I want you, but not here.” He said and I noticed that his voice had grown deeper with heat. At first I didn’t know what he meant; my brain wasn’t up for logical thinking. Then I remembered that we were lying in his brother’s bed. As he began to sit up so did I. I stood when he stood and he looked at me. His eyes took in everything from my hair to my toes and I felt more than a little uneasy under that intense, evaluating gaze. He didn’t tell me I was beautiful, he didn’t run screaming, he simply smiled to himself and lightly kissed the top of my head as he took my hand and led me into his bedroom. I no longer felt in control. I knew I’d go along with whatever he wanted, so I couldn’t be the one in control. If he changed his mind, if his self-control came back, I needed to be submissive enough to back off. He brought me around to face him and he put his hand under my chin, raising my eyes to meet his. I looked into those beautiful blue eyes and knew this would change things between us. I also knew I wanted it anyway. He leaned down a little and tentatively brushed his lips against mine. I didn’t kiss him back, but I didn’t pull away. I let him trail his lips lightly over mine and then pull away. He looked down at me and said softly with a hint of regret, “If you don’t want to anymore we don’t have to.” I looked squarely at his chest and between gritted teeth said, “I was just about the say the same thing.” He turned away from me and took a step towards the door and said quietly, “Then I guess this means we wont.” I took the step towards him that he’d taken away from me and put my hands on his back. I could feel the heat of his body through his shirt and I wanted desperately to pull that shirt out of his pants and slip my hands up inside of it, to feel my hands against the warm skin of his back. To finally see if his back was just as strong and yet soft as it always looked. The Hunger On impulse I did just that. I grabbed the shirt by the belt and pulled until it fell loose from the pants. I slipped my hands up inside the shirt and I’d been right, I could feel the muscles in his back, but his skin was smooth and soft. Touchable. Kissable. I wanted to touch, kiss, lick, suck and explore every inch of his entire body. I raised the shirt up a little and bent down. I placed a single kiss on the small of his back just above the pants. I heard him take a deep breath and I said in a voice that had grown deeper with need, “I never said I didn’t want you,” and then I put my mouth back to the skin at the small of his back and sucked gently at it, giving it a quick nip with my teeth as I pulled away. I’d let him know I wanted him just as badly now as I had a few minutes ago. Now it was his turn to let me know what he wanted. I moved back towards the bed and sat down on the edge of it. He could leave the room or come to me. He stood there perfectly still for a moment, then he turned slowly and I saw his hands go to the front of his shirt. He raised his arms and pulled the shirt off his body. At the sight of his chest I gave a small moan and felt my body tighten with the need to touch his skin again. He took a step towards the bed and stopped to take off his socks. He took another step and stopped to undo his pants. He took another step and stopped to pull them down his legs, leaving him in only his boxers, which very obviously showed that I wasn’t the only one who wanted this. He took the final step to the bed and was standing directly in front of me. I reached my arms out to him and put one hand on each of his hips, pulling his body a little closer to mine. He took a small half step and I opened my legs so that he could stand right against the bed between them. This had been his way of showing me he wanted this just as much as I did. I wasn’t going to keep him waiting. I placed a tender kiss on his stomach just above the waistband of his boxers before I ran my cheek down along the hardness of his cock through the boxers. He made a small sound at the back of his throat and I moaned in response. He looked down at me with need in his eyes so great it almost hurt to look at. I moved my hands on his hips and pulled the boxers down his body making sure not to touch his cock in the process, not an easy task since that’s all I wanted to do. As he stepped out of the boxers I ran my hands up his thighs, trailed them along his lower abdomen, I could see his cock twitching in response to my touch, as if it were trying to follow the movements of my hands across his body. I knew neither of us wanted to wait so I stopped teasing him and slowly wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock. He made a small sighing noise and without warning I pulled his cock as far into my mouth as it would go. He moaned and I could feel his entire body shudder with the sensation. I slowly pulled my mouth up the length of his cock and tenderly kissed the head. Before I’d taken his boxers off I’d felt the wet spot of precum he’d left on them and now I could taste it on my lips. I knew I couldn’t do this for long if we were going to be able to go through with what we both wanted. He seemed to think the same thing because as I moved my hand down from the base of his cock to gently massage his balls he put a hand on each of my shoulders and pushed me down on the bed. I let him push me down and felt his body crawl onto the bed on top of mine. Most men start at the top and work their way down. He knew my body and he knew my desires. He knew he’d get more of a reaction out of me if he started at the bottom and worked his way up. He put his knees on the edge of the bed between my legs and placed a kiss on each of my inner thighs. Just seeing his face between my legs sent my heartbeat racing. It’d been so long since I’d had a man taste me, lick me, suck me, I’d told him how much I enjoyed it, he knew it would make me cum, but he also knew I could cum again and again and again. He knew I could cum all night if I wanted to so he wasn’t worried. I felt his hot breath against my wet pussy and I felt more than heard him breathe in the scent of me. I laid my head back against the pillows and he traced his fingertips over the edge of my pussy. I moaned and thrust my hips up towards that hand. I didn’t want him to tease me. I wanted him to touch me. I heard him laugh softly to himself, “Impatient are we?” He asked with more lust in his voice than humor. I looked down at him, his hand was still against my pussy, I could feel it there like a weight of pleasure, but he wasn’t moving his hand, just holding it very still against me. I looked directly into his eyes and let all the passion and the need and the hunger show in my eyes and in my face, “Yes, I am.” I said in a voice that held sternness and a need so deep is was almost frightening. He smiled up at me with lust in his eyes and he slowly slipped his tongue inside me. I moaned at the feel of his warm, wet tongue inside me. It had been so long and I missed it so much and it was almost too incredible. He moved his tongue up my slit until he found my clit. He flicked his tongue across my aching clit over and over again, driving me insane. He’d flick my clit with his tongue and just as I was about to cum he’d move his tongue down and away from my clit. I was moaning and whimpering and had my hands in his hair trying to force him to lick me, but he was stronger then I was. He slipped his tongue as deep inside my cunt as it would go and moved his fingers to my clit. It was an incredible sensation, but I knew it wouldn’t make me cum. I needed something harder in my cunt then his tongue to make me cum. He slipped his tongue out of my cunt as if reading my mind and moved it back up to lightly lick at my clit. I moaned loudly at the incredible feeling of his tongue on my clit, nothing else in the world could feel as wondrous as that tongue dancing across my throbbing, aching clit. I knew I could cum, just from the touch of his tongue on my clit, but I also knew I want to feel part of him inside me. “Oh God, Devin, your fingers, please, inside me, please, please” it was as close to making sense as I was going to get. I was so close to cumming I could hardly breathe. He knew what I’d meant and I felt two of his fingers slip deep inside my cunt as his tongue continued licking mercilessly at my clit. That was all it took, “Oh Devin, deeper, deeper, oh God, oh God I’m gunna cum, deeper, deeper please, oh yes, oh yes, please, oh please make me cum Devin, I’m cumming, I’m cumming! Oh God, YES!” I cried out as the orgasm ripped through my body in wave after wave of intense pleasure. Once my body had stopped writhing under his hand and mouth he slipped his fingers out of my pussy. His tongue didn’t stop though, it simply moved from my clit to my cunt. He was licking up all the juices that had come pouring out of me as I came. I was so sensitive I let him lick at my pussy for as long as I could until the pleasure because almost pain. “Enough, enough, no more.” I said in a deep, breathy voice. He moved his head from my pussy and I could see my own juices gleaming on his face in the moonlight. I put my hand out for him and he took it, I not so much pulled as simply guided him up the length of my body until we were face to face. I looked up at him and smiled, “Thank you.” I said simply and then I kissed him. It was a long, deep, probing kiss. I could taste myself on his tongue and I enjoyed it. I pulled away from the kiss and ran my tongue along his chin and cheeks, licking my own juices off his skin. When I was sure his face was clean I kissed him again just as deeply and knew that now he could taste my pussy on my own tongue. He moaned into my mouth as we kissed and I felt him press his cock into my upper thigh. He was too tall for us to be face to face and have him move inside me. I pulled away from the kiss and scooted my body down the length of his until I felt his cock, hard and ready against my pussy. I pushed my body up into his, pressing his cock against my pussy and we both moaned at the feeling of it. I moved my legs up and wrapped them around his waist as I felt him position himself to enter me. I was kissing his shoulder when I felt him move his cock into me. I moaned and shook under him as he moved ever so slowly inside of me. Once his cock was as far inside my pussy as it could go without ripping me in two he stilled. He didn’t push in any farther and he didn’t pull out. He just stayed like that for a moment. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my pussy, on his cock inside me and started working the muscles inside my pussy around his cock. He moaned into my hair and pulled out a little, then slowly eased back in again. He was going too slowly. I didn’t want this to be slow and teasing, I want it to be fast and furious and full of all the passion, heat and need I knew we were both feeling. “I won’t break” I said with my mouth pressed against his neck. “I know.” He said and I could hear the strain in his voice letting me know he didn’t want this to be slow and teasing either. I gently bit at his shoulder and pushed my body up against him, “God Devin fuck me! I wont break, just fuck me please!” He moaned again, but this time it wasn’t just a moan, it was almost an animal sound, pure need. He pulled out of me slowly again and I whispered, “Please” into his ear. I felt his shoulders tense and then I felt him thrust his cock into me with all his strength. I cried out in pleasure, and in pain, but it was a good pain. “Yes! Please, yes!” I cried out as his body took over. He was pushed up, away from my body. I had my hands on his stomach, rubbing over his lower abdomen, watching him push his cock as far as he could inside me, and then some. I could feel myself losing track of where I was, who I was, who he was, and all I could think was how incredible this felt. How much I wanted to pull his entire being inside my pussy through his cock. I was moaning incoherent noises interspersed with things like, “Yes, God, yes, harder, harder, oh god!” I could see the sweat gleaming on his chest and I raised my head and licked a hot, wet line across his chest. He moaned and looked down at me. I licked my lips and as he thrust his cock into me he moved his head down and devoured my mouth with his. I knew he was close, I could feel the tension building in his body, he thrust deeper inside me now and I wanted to cum with him. I pulled my mouth away from his and tried to make my mouth form words, “Are you gunna’ cum?” I managed to ask. He couldn’t speak, his body was too far gone, he moaned again and thrust deeper into me as he shook his head yes. I moaned as he thrust so deeply inside me and said in an almost half scream from the pleasure, “My tit’s, please.” He didn’t hesitate. He looked into my face and moved his mouth to my breast. I felt his hot, wet mouth close over one of my nipples and I almost screamed from the pleasure. He was thrusting into me harder and harder, deeper and deeper. He sucked on my nipple, pulling it away from my breast between his teeth, nipping gently at it. That was all it took for me. “Yes! Devin! Yes! Fuck me Devin! Fuck me hard I’m gunna’ cum! Cum with me, please, cum with me!” I screamed and his mouth moved off my breast. He let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a grunt and I felt him thrust inside me deeper then he had before and felt him cum inside me. My body was shaking and writhing underneath his as my own orgasm washed though me. I felt him thrust into me a few final times and then he went still. I could feel the tension in his arm from holding himself above me. I put my hand on his shoulders and pulled him down to lay on top of my body. He laid his head against my shoulder and I kissed him tenderly with the little energy I had left. I felt the tension ease out of his body and heard him sigh against my ear. I turned my head to see him and his eyes were closed. I kissed his chin and nestled my head against him and closed my own eyes, falling asleep with his body entwined with mine in the most intimate of ways. The Hunger The party wore on her like last year's wardrobe. Contemptuous, mockingly, she wryly swaggered about the lavish room in her own aura, glowing with all the illumination of a fluorescent bulb. Her stiletto heels sparked tightly, metronomically, against the Italian marble and her diamond teardrops reflecting the prismatic eccentrics of an overhead chandelier. With her "don't know, don't care, kiss my ass," demeanor of opulence, ensuant of a Thorazine tom collins cocktail. She aimlessly passed about the contagiously boring James Deans and Marilyn Monroe's with chided impudence. Each reveler, playing out their rum -soaked roles before her. Thespians of the inebriated stage, dancing in the limelight of popular pretension while she remained just as content with her soap opera smile and disconcerting glances; all gathered, at the lavish expense of a very affluent, and esoteric benefactor. The room was immense in design, cerulean circular waves on the ceiling, gave the impression of no beginning or end, broken only by long faced gothic windows draped in cotton sheers: revealing only the unearthly void of darkness. Large graphic murals of angry hounds, and dark-eyed riders astride mighty steeds hung evenly around the room. Storm enslaved colors of reds and blacks clashed with violent brushstrokes as Greek fountains bubbled forth below each. Hideously graphic, and though she shied away, she found herself drawn into each savage scene. As she stared, she cringed as a chilling stare shivered down her spine and a waning shadow danced across the corner of her eye. A whisper, a blur, vacant of shape or continence, a fleeting specter along the upstairs balcony only to disappear into the shadows. Unsure of what, or whom she saw, she quickly searched among her diluted audience for confirmation. She was alone. Anxiously, she glanced back up the stairs waiting, watching, though yet unsure if someone was there, until a sliver of shadow dared to reveal itself. Testing the bounds of her tom collins bravery, she swallowed hard against her apprehension as she dared herself toward the stairway. Intrigued by the seductive intricacies of the shadow, and salivating of an envious hunger, she started up the stairs. Blue-carpeted treads that wound up the stairway whispered softly beneath her stiletto heels as her tight fit Cavalli dress nervously crept up her thighs. Her dampened palm scrapping along the polished banister roughing the blanched oak with the band of a leftover relationship. Her eyes never wavered from the slim cast shadow until she paused with uncharacteristic reluctance. Stopping on the stairs to look back onto the party as though she were looking for exemption, to continue. Or, a reason not. The top of the stairs welcomed her to an ominous row of elegantly crafted doors. Each identical to the others. White painted, brass ornate faces staring back at her. Each keeping their own secrets behind well fitted jambs while other long faced, arched gothic windows silently stood guard at each end of the hall. Suddenly, a shiver raced up the backs of her thighs and she turned to the window left open to the cool evening. Cotton cream sheers ebbed lazily with the haunting, incoming breeze in dreamlike pulsations of a hypnotic cadence that held her entranced, as a door at the alternate end of the hall, with a quiet click, whispered ajar, Believing she had stumbled onto a secret tryst: a wicked smile warmed her. Whom would she capture with whom? The subjective thoughts aroused her, triggering tiny nervous rivulets at the back of her neck as she momentarily hugged herself against an anxious chill. Seductively licking the strawberry rose tease from her under her top lip, she brushed her dress smooth and slithered down the hall. She stood outside the door for a moment before daring herself to enter. Her ears peaked, straining to hear the tell tale whispers of uninhibited lovers. Then lightly reaching for the knob, and with criminal stealth eased the door open and peered inside. A tiny bedside lamp glowed quietly on a corner table, but otherwise, to her dismay, the room was empty. She reached around the corner and toggled the main switch filling the room with the revealing white light of intrusion and stood there . . . staring. No ruffled sheets, no empty glasses. No mixed aroma of cologne and sweet ripened sex, no cigarette butts, no sounds . . . empty. Dejected, incensed, she toggled off the light switch with an angry huff and turned away from the open door, as a haunting voice beckoned from within. "Angela" "Who's there," spinning quickly on her heels expecting to catch the trickster? "Angela," in a voice that slithered through the darkness. Leaning against the jamb, impatiently staring into the blackness, she awaited for whomever, to show themselves. "Come inside Angela, and all will be revealed." His voice distant, as though spoken on a phantom wind. She stepped partway through the threshold, curious, spurned by the magnetic allure of his voice and reached for the light switch, only to this time, find darkness as she toggled the switch several times in nervous frustration. Angry at the lights, impatient with this game, not wishing to attract unwanted attention; "Who's there?" "Angela," his voice tapering off into the darkness. "I have been waiting for you, Angela." "Jonathon! Is that you Jonathon?" Forgetting herself, she muffled her voice in her hand as she peered out over the balcony railing, hoping not to have drawn unwanted attention. " Jonathon, you bastard, show yourself," her whispered challenges falling empty into the darkness! "Where are you Jonathon," a tremble in her voice? "You pig!" "I'm getting scared," straining to see through into the blackness as a shadow waltzed passed a moonlit window. "What . . ." she started but a dusty, enveloping chuckle interrupted her. Her heart began to race as his heavy breathing seemed to grow louder, nearer, his warm breath against the nape of her neck, down her shoulder. "Who . .?" "Close the door, Angela." His tenor held her consumed, and she felt the door swing closed, behind her. Standing mute in the darkness, Ice stole her body and she trembled against the cold darkness as the winter chill of death locked her in its shackles against his breath, before he again brought his shadow-cloaked presence into her. "Angela, come with me and satisfy your hunger." "No," she trembled, pleading with helpless eyes as she felt the coarseness of his skeletal talon against her hip. "I have brought you here." "You?" "Yes Angela, to know, to taste what you have so long denied yourself." "Pl . . .ea," she tried but the words were locked in the tension of her body. . "Angela," "I am the whispers in the night. The dreams you have denied yourself." She tried to speak, to protest, but could only manage empty whimpers. "Angela, he growled! "I am your most erotic nightmare . . . I am the hunger," and as he spoke he pulled her tightly against him, tilting her head back in crying agony, spearing the soft flesh under her chin with his angry finger! She could only mouth here crying pleas as she cringed against the pain. "Feel it Angela." "Feel the hunger burning within!" Struggling against him, she pressed her palms against his chest and pushed against his ardent, unyielding, grip, his predatory claws digging into her hip. "Angela!" "Come to me," his sharp claw slowly tearing down along her spine. She cringed, arching herself against him. Clutching both her wrists, he clasped her hands behind her, torturing her, imprisoning her. Grimacing in terror, she felt her arm bones grinding, and she sobbed loudly into the empty darkness as her dress loosened across her breasts, gathering at her feet. "Do not fight, Angela," his sinister voice echoing about her, his eyes lashing across her breasts as she stood lace and garter naked before him. His presence possessing her, his intemperance burning through her flesh, she moaned as he pressed his thigh against her pelvis. "My power grows stronger, Angela. Surrender unto me." Riding upon his thigh, she moaned as her body began to pulsate. "You will be with me Angela, " his eyes pressing hard into hers, "to know the taste, to savor the dark hunger." The stench of his vile breath suffocated her, asphyxiating her and as a warm, salted trail of mascara bled down her cheek, her doe eyes scoured the blackness for an avenue of escape. "Feel it growing within you, Angela. The night hunger shall take you to where you have only dreamed." Rivulets of sweat beads raced down her spine, her body convulsing in spastic waves as his growl penetrated the bone of her skull, bleeding into her mind. She saw only blood, waves of blood washing against the darkness. Blood and blackness melding into a spinning kaleidoscope of terror. She fought to cry, to scream, to resist as he turned her backward to the bed. "Pl ea . . .se," one last gasp in despair, one last whimpered plea against the agony, the tortured anticipation . . . lost in his throated chuckle. He pushed her back, and she stumbled in her heels. Reaching back to ward herself of the bed behind her. She bent forward trying to protect herself as he grabbed her arm, twisting it, pulling her into him, then in one violent thrust, he threw her onto the bed. Writhing in terror, she attempted to free herself as the iron grip of his icy talons pressed her outstretched arms over her head. Her cries, maliciously muffled against his suffocating hand. He straddled her thighs and as she arched against his grotesqueness . . . he licked her. Her eyes screamed out as though to tear from their sockets. Her breasts rose vehemently, struggling for every breath, as his barbed tongue slithered down her stomach. Her body exhausted, drenched in the oils of her fear, she felt his venomous saliva run quickly over her stomach, mixing with her glistening flesh, his teeth scrapped along her panty line. Writhing in erotic agony against the gnashing of teeth, shackled into the darkness, impaled onto his bloodlust. A sacrifice. She cringed into submission, only to await the finality of his attack. His attack, his hunger that came suddenly with piercing fangs and the ravenous tearing of soft flesh, her adrenalin shrieking into the night. Instinctive, primal, final. With a quiet click, the door at the end of the hall opened to the foolish revelers below. She stood seductively alone atop the stairway one leg in front of the other, as she neatly passed a hand through her hair. The other hand, slinking over her hip, smoothing her dress down along her thigh, her eyes playfully feasted down about the crowd, slithering up smooth, satin thighs and relishing upon the velvet fullness of revealing necklines. She could feel their ripened bodies writhing beneath her, glistening with fear, arching in submission. She could taste their flesh, their sweat, their blood. Leaning against the rail, she moaned with a wanton agony that boiled from deep within. The insatiable hunger would not be denied. As she started down the stairs. The Hunger My body was telling me I needed to start planning dinner. I don't need to eat the way you might. I sustain my life with fluids, but my race always calls it The Hunger. My life-mate and I were the last of our line on this continent. She was destroyed by the Others. No one seems to know why they hate Us. I'm not even sure if the Others know any more. Their attacks on Us have cost me some friends over the years. Of course, it affected me, but those who had been destroyed had not been mine. The loss of my life-mate was different. For the first time, I was truly alone. For the first time, I knew fear. I choose to introduce myself by the name I use among mortals: John Smith. My life-mate was a female known to mankind as Alexandra. We had partnered centuries ago, back when vampires roamed freely. Many mortals mistake Us for that race, but we are different. While we use mortals to sustain Us, we don't drink their blood. We do not harm the mortals we encounter, like the incubus and succubus can. We give pleasure. We gain our nourishment from the fluid of their loins. Nourishment can be taken both from mortals and from the members of our clan. Any of Us can "make" a mortal into one of our brethren. We tend to hunt outside our group, preferring variety in our diet. As any mortal hunter or huntress knows, the hunt can, in its own way, be nearly as rewarding as the feast at its conclusion. There is magic in the feedings given by a life-mate. The power of this magic keeps us free from disease and the ravages of time. My semen kept Alexandra as fresh and beautiful as the day I met her, and her pussy was my fountain of youth and health. If one of Us loses a life-mate, as I had, it can be the beginning of the end, as we are exposed to illness and aging much like mortals. At the time of my beloved's demise, I still appeared to be in my early twenties, as I had for hundreds of years. Only a short time had passed since her destruction, but already I saw the faint beginnings of creases at the corners of my eyes. Mortals would see them as laugh lines, or the result of outdoor activity. I only appeared to have aged a few years, still a lean, fit man in my mid to late twenties. The changes were subtle, but my time was limited. I had to make a new life-mate. But where should I seek her? Every college campus, every shopping mall, every golf course has women from whom I can feed. Our species has adapted well to living among the mortals. None of Us forces ourselves on those we prey upon. Instead, we seduce them, not unlike the way the vampire "glamorizes" his victim. The difference between Us and the bloodsuckers is that those who feed Us leave the encounter unharmed, with nothing but life-long memories of amazing sex with a stranger. It is my duty to perpetuate my species. I must seek out females in whom I can kindle The Hunger, women who will show me the lust necessary to survive as one of Us. By the teachings of The One Who Sees All, a mortal must be a virgin when taken and "made." To escape my grief over the loss of Alexandra, I decided to leave North America for a while. The Others were no doubt watching me. They had been tightening their noose on our race for a very long time. If they knew I was the only one left here, it wouldn't be long until they pounced. I decided to go to Europe. It's where my ancestral roots are, both mortal and of the clan of Us. If I made my escape carefully, the Others would not look for me there right away. They are somewhat dull-witted compared to Us, but their numbers are large. I teleported myself to Ireland, since many of Us still lived there. It would be a safe place to begin re-building my existence. Whether because of the size of our clan, or due to the ancient magic of races and clans that had preceded Us, The Others do not thrive there. My thought was to search for a new life-mate, perhaps with the help of others in the clan. But first, I needed to feed. The Hunger was very strong. I might need more than one woman tonight to satisfy me. I materialized on Harcourt Street in Dublin, across from Copper Face Jacks. The place looked busy. I didn't expect this to be where I could look for a suitable virgin to "make" or to take as a life-mate, but feeding there would be relatively easy. Clusters of young mortals were arriving in taxis or on foot. Many of the females were attractive and were dressed in a way that told me they had a certain "hunger" in them, too. I went inside. The place was teeming with sexually active young mortals. Pheromones were heavy in the air. Hunting would be rewarding. I could re-build my strength and begin my quest for women to "make" into clanswomen, and even for a new life-mate, in the morning. I sat at a high table for two near the dance floor, where I could best view my prospects. A young barmaid approached me. She was auburn-haired, full-figured, dressed in a v-neck shirt and leggings. Her clothing showcased the cleavage between her generous breasts, her succulent ass cheeks, and her puffy lower lips. She was definitely a prospect for feeding. I sniffed the air around her. No human would notice the perfume of her womanhood at this point, since she was only mildly aroused, but my senses, particularly when I feel The Hunger, told me she could produce a nice helping of the fluid I craved. I wondered how easy it would be to bewitch her sumptuous legs apart. "What would you like to drink?" she asked. "A Virgin Mary," I replied. "What's that?" "It's like a Bloody Mary -- tomato juice, lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco sauce, and a stick of celery. Just leave out the vodka," I said. "How spicy do you want it?" she asked. Her sultry emerald eyes penetrated mine. "Spicy and full-bodied, the way I like my women." She blushed a bit at that, averted her gaze, and left to get me my drink. I watched her move as she returned to me. Her breasts bounced gently as she walked, and my sensitive ears could tune out the music, allowing me to hear the soft wet sound her moist labia made with her movements. The glass was decorated with a lemon wedge. She placed a small pepper grinder on the table next to it. "Some people like fresh-ground pepper as a garnish on a Bloody Mary," she said. "Do you want some in your drink?" "I do." Her hands shook slightly as she grasped the grinder and held it over my glass. "Say when," she said, turning the handle. I watched as the crumbled bits of pepper fell. Each piece hit the reddish liquid with a plop, and I could smell the heady spiciness of it, a pleasing counterpoint to the alluring aroma of sex emanating from this girl. "When," I said. She set the pepper-mill on the table next to my glass. "It should be stirred," I said. I took her hand in mine, and used her index finger to stir the pepper into the drink. When it was blended to my satisfaction, I fixed my gaze on her eyes and raised her hand to my mouth to suck the liquid from her finger. A new wave of her aroma enveloped me as her pupils dilated slightly. She stood transfixed after I released her hand, her jaw slightly slack, lust burning in her eyes. Yes, this one could be a lot of fun. "I'll run a tab," I said. She continued to stand there, her nipples erect under her shirt. "Sweetheart, you have other customers," I reminded her. With her face slightly flushed, she hurried away. I sipped my drink and surveyed the room. There were hundreds of young people, all dressed to impress and seduce. My thoughts drifted to my departed love, Alexandra. She would have liked this place. She was a good huntress, and with only a glance would have had young men and women fighting each other for the chance to offer her their fluids. She and I enjoyed hunting as a team. We were good at it. We would have dined well here. The barmaid passed by several times before I finished my drink. Every time our eyes met, I could see a slight hardening of her nipples and could smell a new whiff of her nectar. Could she alone produce enough to satisfy The Hunger in me tonight? She arrived, right on cue, as I was setting down my empty glass. "Another, sir?" she asked. "Please." In moments, she returned. "More coarse-ground pepper?" "Of course," I said, looking in her passionate green eyes. This time, I didn't have to guide her as she stirred my drink. She seemed to hold her breath as she pulled her wet finger from the glass. I could see the wanting in her eyes as I raised her finger to my lips. She shivered as my tongue bathed her digit. Even though the lights were low, my sensitive vision could detect the slight dampness that was appearing on the front of her leggings. The Hunger became more insistent. Usually, if I hunt in a crowd, I don't decide on a source of nourishment right away. I enjoy hunting, selecting and preparing my meal. I must dine anyway, to sustain myself, so why not get all the pleasure out of the experience that I can? That usually means admiring the appearance, smell, and sound of numerous attractive women before experiencing the touch and blissful taste of one. As I enjoyed my drink, I chose several women I wanted to talk to. There were a few I wanted to dance with, to touch and inhale before making my selection. This was going to be the perfect night. The tall blond was intriguing. A slutty-looking brunette had glanced my way a second time. The smiling, tiny Asian girl could be fun, too. Maybe The Hunger was too strong, but when the barmaid came to my table again, I re-thought my plans. "Sir, I'm going off duty," she said, "so I need to close out your tab. Another waitress will stop by your table in a few minutes, and she will be here until closing. Would you like something else to drink?" "Yes. Something different this time." "What would that be, sir? What would you like?" This time, she knew I was inhaling her aroma. "You," I said. "Sir?" she said, almost in a whisper. Her nipples were straining against her shirt, and the intoxicating smell from her pussy made me almost weak with Hunger. "You," I repeated. "I want to drink ... you." Raw desire oozed from every pore of her. "I'll be at the side door in fifteen minutes," she said. A car and driver met her at the employees' entrance. Wordlessly, the driver ushered her into the back seat of the limousine for the short drive to the Westbury Hotel, where I had booked their best suite. A uniformed young man soon delivered her to my rooms. As the door closed behind her, she spoke. "I've never done this before." "Never done what before?" I asked. "Never been in a suite at the Westbury?" "No,... well, yes,... I mean, no I've never been in a hotel room like this. What I mean is, I've never gone to any hotel with a stranger," she said. "Call me John. It's a pretty easy name to remember. You are Nicole," I said. She looked a bit shocked. "How do you know my name?" "It was on my tab at the club. See, we're not strangers." "I don't know whether I should be here," she said. "Do you want to leave?" "No." "Then, take off your clothes." "Excuse me?" "Would you like my help?" "No." Eyes down, she walked to the bed and slipped off her shoes. "I can't believe I'm doing this." "You may stop," I said. "I don't want to," she whispered, pulling her shirt off. Her large breasts were straining against the lacy camisole she wore underneath. She looked at me. I could see the inner struggle of her lust against her better judgment. She removed her cami, finally exposing her beautiful full breasts to my view. Then she wriggled out of her moist leggings. Her trimmed, leaking pussy was revealed. At that moment, I knew we would not sleep before dawn. "Now, undress me," I said. The fire of lust burned brightly in her eyes now. She began to unbutton my shirt. As she did, her movements caused her large breasts to bounce and sway. Her nipples were very hard now, long, fat, swollen with her need. I tried to concentrate on them, but my brain was overwhelmed with the mouth-watering aroma of the moisture emanating from her portal. She knelt in front of me to undo my trousers. When she pulled them down, my rigid member sprang up, nearly hitting her in the face. "It's huge!" she exclaimed. "It will fit," I said. "Lie down." "I've never had anything like that inside me before," she whimpered as she climbed onto the bed. "What do you mean? Nothing this big?" "No. I've never had a man inside me before. I'm a virgin." "How old are you?" I asked. "Twenty-two." A young virgin, the same age I was when I was taken. Just what I needed for a new life-mate. If I chose, I could make Nicole mine for eternity tonight. I struggled with my Hunger and lust. It might be better to drink her dry and then continue on my quest, but her eyes spoke of an inner lust that enticed me, the lust necessary in a good huntress. This was not the time for those thoughts, however. Turning her into one of Us could come later, if she seemed worthy. She would have to be very special for me to consider her as a life-mate. For now, I needed to feed The Hunger. I pulled her to the edge of the bed, spread her legs, and lowered my mouth to her. Tangy-sweet, abundant juice clung to the trimmed dark hair surrounding her womanhood. Perhaps, as a mortal, I would have wanted to take my time with her, but The Hunger compelled me to taste. The first pass of my tongue over her made my stomach growl. Nicole gasped at the sensation. "Oh, God!" All women can orgasm. Many of them can squirt, given the proper stimuli. If this girl were one of those, I would feed well. I spread her outer labia with my fingers and tasted the pink flesh inside. Delicious. My tongue moved up to her clit. She squealed her passion. More life-sustaining fluid seeped from her. I curled my tongue to scoop it up. Sweet nourishment! My strength was already returning. Each pass of my tongue over her sex was rewarded with more nectar. She breathed more quickly. Lust was overcoming her. "Oh..., oooh..., oh..., that feels so good," she gasped. "You haven't felt pleasure yet." "John, I think I want you to make love to me." There was no hurry. I planted small, delicate kisses on the soft skin of her mound and upper thighs. "All in good time, my dear, all in good time." Her sex was flowing freely. I curled my tongue and probed inside her, lapping up more of her honey. Her pussy was swollen, the outer lips staying open on their own, proudly displaying the dewy pinkness inside. It was time to find out how wet she could be. "Are you ready, my dear? You're going to have an orgasm." I slipped a finger gently inside her, barely touching her intact hymen, and renewed the attack of my tongue on her clit. "Cum for me, my sweet Nicole," I said, pausing from my feast. "Cum for me now." I reached behind her and began to massage her tiny asshole with my thumb. Fearing for her hymen, I replaced the finger in her pussy with my tongue, and fondled and pinched her hard clit. "God! Oh God!" she wailed. I could smell it coming, and it made my cock throb almost painfully. Suddenly, forcefully, a gout of ambrosia erupted from her. I drank my fill. I could live on that for days. She was unconscious for a moment. When she roused herself, she had the animalistic look I had so cherished in my beloved Alexandra. Could this girl become a huntress? Should I "make" her? Nicole struggled to prop herself up on her elbows. "Who are you?" she asked. Her green eyes shining, almost as though she felt The Hunger, she grabbed my head in her hands. "WHAT are you?" "I'm John Smith. Don't laugh. I have ID if you need proof. In answer to your second question, I'm someone who likes oral sex." "No, John, no. I'm a virgin. I know you felt that. But, I've had oral sex before. No one has done it like that!" "I've had some time to practice. Tell me, my dear Nicole, how is it that you've let some naughty boy lick your cunt, but you've never let one fuck you?" For the first time since she had revived, she lowered her gaze. "It wasn't a naughty boy," she whispered. "I see." I stood and helped her to her feet. Pulling her sumptuous body against me, letting my cock drool onto her belly, I grasped her chin and pulled her mouth to mine. In a matter of seconds, we had moved from a first, gentle kiss to one that expressed our mutual need. "If you like girls, are you going to let me make love to you, my sweet innocent?" I asked. "I've never wanted a man enough before this. I've had some experience with men, enough that I've been a little hesitant about letting one go that far." She lowered her eyes again. "Girlfriends can't make me pregnant." "I can't either. I also can't make you sick. If I learn to trust you enough, I may explain that to you, but for now, you're just going to have to believe." Her huntress-like eyes scanned mine for a long time. "You're not telling me everything, John Smith. But yes, I do believe you. I want you to take me." "I will be gentle, my dear. There is no way to avoid some pain, but your pleasure will make you forget it quickly. Now lie down. We must get ready." She got on the bed and turned on her back with her knees bent and spread, presenting herself to me to mount. I had other plans for the moment. Lying down next to her, I pulled her to me and began my work on her breasts. They tasted of her citrus body wash, fresh sweat, and hot flesh ready to be enjoyed. When I grasped her nipple between my lips and pulled, the smell of new feminine moisture stirred my tongue again. Much as I needed my release, I could not deny myself one last taste of her virgin cunt. This time, she had an idea of what to expect. Her hips began to move almost immediately, and the amazing amount of sweet, flavorful juice she produced added to my euphoria. She squirted only a little. It was just as well. I could not have drunk another drop. I moved up in the bed and pulled her into my arms. As her strength returned, our impassioned kissing resumed. Her hand moved down to touch my twitching cock. "God, you're hard," she said, pulling her lips from mine. "Please, John, put it inside me." "Get on top of me and mount me. You can control how much you take and how fast you take it that way." Nicole seemed eager to do just that. She squatted over me, a string of her fluids dripping onto my balls as she moved. Grasping my cock in her hand, she aimed me. The first touch of my wet cockhead to her leaking lips brought a gasp of passion from both of us. She held us in that position for a moment and bored into me with her predatory eyes. Then she worked my cock into her opening. As her lips stretched to admit me, she said, "I've wanted this for a long time." "Why haven't you done it?" "I was afraid of being alone afterward." She lowered herself slightly. I could feel the head of my cock pressing against her membrane. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?" "Yes." "Will you promise not to force yourself into me?" "Yes." "Okay." She grimaced, seeming to anticipate the tearing, burning pain she was about to feel. She raised up a little, and then allowed herself to drop. Her barrier was ruptured, and she sank onto my shaft. "Oh, that stings," she moaned. I supported her buttocks on my hands, preventing her from taking too much all at once. "Breathe, my darling. Take it slowly. Give yourself some time. We have all night." Her eyes each released a single tear. I watched them slide down her cheeks and then break free, to fall, seemingly in slow motion, to adorn each proud nipple. I pulled her to me, and licked them clean. Still holding her firm cheeks in my hands, I asked, "Are you ready for more?" "Uh huh," she muttered as she rose slightly, taking some of her weight off my hands. Then we allowed her to drop a bit further than before, impaling her more firmly on my shaft. The Hunger Pain was being replaced in her eyes by renewed passion. "It's so big!" she whispered. I thought back to my first sexual experience as an innocent youth, so many lifetimes ago. My teacher, my seducer, some would say my downfall, was one of Us. I had thought she was not yet quite two decades old, the same age as me. We had met at a ball given by her uncle, duke over the area in which I was raised. She had been, I realized, quite similar in appearance to Nicole. She took my virginity that night. When she allowed me to splash my seed inside her, timing her orgasm to match my own, she "made" me one of her clan. Her uncle sent a carriage to my parent's estate the following morning, requesting my presence again in his castle. I could barely comprehend his words as he explained my new reality to me, and I was filled with fear. He led me to his chambers and ordered a group of servant girls to prepare me for my first feeding. They bathed me, perfumed me, groomed me, and finally, pleasured me. I was shocked to find that I could cum almost at will. All four of those wenches drank from me. I slept numbly. When I awoke, I first understood The Hunger. It was the Duke's own wife who fed me for the first time. A slender, stunning blond woman, she appeared to be around the age of forty. I had thought her handsome, regal looking, well-preserved for her age, but when she appeared at my bedside, dressed in a white silk gown, I saw her as an object of intense sexual desire. "You feel The Hunger, don't you?" the Duchess asked. "That deep need wrenching your guts apart -- you know it now, don't you?" "Yes," I hissed. "I will feed you," she said, undoing the gold and ruby clasp that held her garment. The gown parted, revealing her nakedness to my view. She shrugged her gossamer raiment off her shoulders, allowing it to pool on the floor at her feet. "You are one of Us, now. You must take your nourishment." She mounted the bed, then positioned herself over my face. The newly found need of my race took me, and I lowered her aromatic sex to my mouth. The duchess and her niece educated me on the ways of the race into which I was newly born. They helped me learn to hunt. Along with many others, they fed me and took some of their feedings from me. I learned lust in their home, lust mortals could not understand. I also learned love. The duke summoned me to his personal dining room one morning to partake of the mortal foods all of Us still enjoyed. "My young friend," he said, "you are growing well in the skills and pleasures of Us. It is time that you helped to expand our clan. Have you learned how this is done?" "My lord," I replied, "I am told that I must de-flower a virgin and bring her to orgasm whilst releasing my seed inside her." "That is correct. In a fortnight, there will be another gathering in the grand ballroom. Among the guests will be several fair maidens. It will be your privilege to have first pick. Choose well. Make Us proud." At the ball, I danced with the girl who would become my Alexandra. She had tasted so sweet. There is no flavor on this earth that can compare to that of a young maiden. The taste of the voluptuous young beauty I had now de-flowered was still fresh on my tongue. Nicole was nearly in full possession of my turgid flesh. The pain that had caused her incredible eyes to weep was being replaced with a look of pleasure. "Only a little bit more," I encouraged, bringing her face to mine. As we kissed, I felt her weight come to rest on my pelvis. Slowly, her virginal tightness relaxed enough for her to lift her hips a bit and then come back down. "I never knew it would feel like this," she gasped. She raised her hips and lowered them again, stroking my manhood out, and then into her sheath. Again. And again. When she found her rhythm, she no longer needed the support and encouragement of my hands. I started rubbing my fingers over her anus once more. She moaned and moved a little faster, taking me deep on every thrust. It seemed that her pleasure increased when I fondled her puckered star. I had discovered the same thing about my late Alexandra. It was one of the things that endeared her to me. Penetrating her sphincter always made her orgasm. Nicole, I learned, was no different. I paused to allow her to recover. My finger rested protectively over her asshole, my erection stayed still inside her quivering cunt. We simply kissed with love. She raised her upper body so she could look into my eyes. "John? Can we do that again?" "Do what again?" I asked, flexing to make my cock twitch inside her. "Ooooh," she hissed. "That. Can we make love again?" "We never really stopped," I said, clasping her to me and rolling her onto her back. "I just gave you a moment to catch your breath. Now, I'm going to make you cum again." I pulled my length nearly out of her, barely maintaining our most intimate contact. My shaft glistened with her virgin blood. Her eyes were an opening into her soul, showing lust I had not seen since my beloved was taken. This girl already looked like one of Us. With only my gaze, I made her wetter. My lance stabbed slowly back into her maddeningly tight depths. Her legs moved to encircle my waist, helping her to draw our loins together. Just as we had never broken the contact joining our bodies together, this time we did not break contact between her lusting eyes and mine. I stroked myself in and out of her grasping cunt until I felt it begin to milk me. It would have been easy to fill her with my seed, feeling that, but I wanted her to cum more. She rode out her orgasm locked tightly on my shaft. Being careful not to lose the magical contact between our genitals, I rose up on my arms to stare down at her. A droplet of sweat ran from between her ample breasts to join its sisters on her belly. Her nipples were as hard as any I had seen. The look in her eyes told me she was ready to be "made." "John," she gasped, trying to regain control of her breathing. "John, what are you doing to me?" "I believe it's called fucking," I replied. I pushed my length as deep inside her as I could, flexing my groin muscles to apply more pressure inside her wet, tight cunt. "Oh God! Are you trying to make me cum again?" "Yes." I began to plow rapidly in and out of her, grabbing her legs and forcing them up, bending her so I could go deeper. This time, it only took a few dozen quick strokes to make her cry out her ecstasy. "Aaaah, aaaah, stop, please John, stop for a minute," she moaned as she gathered herself once again. I released her legs and held her, my cock still inside her. We had not broken contact since I first destroyed her hymen. "What's wrong, my Nicole, don't you like this?" "Yes, yes, of course I like it. I'm sore, but I want more. I just can't keep up with you." A few gentle thrusts made her begin to move her hips again. I kept my rhythm slow, luxurious, and deep. "Why haven't you cum?" she asked. "How can you still be so hard?" "I'm not like other men." "You can't have an orgasm?" she asked. "Oh yes, I can. I can have many in a night. I can pour my seed into you whenever I choose, as many times as I choose." "How is that possible?" "I told you -- I'm different from other men." She grasped my head and stared into me. "What are you, John Smith? You need to tell me what's going on." I thrust hard into her, rapidly, forcing another orgasm from her. Her gaze never faltered. Her emerald eyes still glowed brightly with her lust. I knew now that I must transform her into one of Us. "I'm not like other men. I was, a long time ago, but then things changed. I am no longer a mortal man." If she had shown shock at that, I would have erased the memory of my words from her. But she did not. Desire had overwhelmed her. "Are you a ghost?" "No. You've probably never encountered one like me before." "Are you a demon?" "No, my precious one. I am of the clan of Us. We are beings who can live forever. We take our sustenance from each other and from humans." "Are you a vampire? Am I going to die in your arms?" "Not at all. If you accept the gift of my seed, I can make you live a very long time indeed. Members of the clan of Us feed on the sexual fluids of others. We minister to the genitals of our partners orally, taking sustenance from the fluids they produce. I fed from you before I entered you. If you choose, you can be one of Us. You will live out your existence giving pleasure to others, both male and female if you desire. When your lover climaxes in your mouth, you will be nourished. You will spend your time here on earth seeking out partners who can sustain you." "Will I be immortal?" "Nearly so. We have few enemies. You will hunt for your food, as I do." "Will I stay young?" "If I take you as a life-mate, your days may never end. You will hunt and feed from whomever you choose, but feeding from me, and allowing me to feed from you, will preserve our youth and make us immune to all disease. You will never be ill. You will remain as beautiful as you are at this moment." Nicole rose up and kissed me. Her passion burned my tongue. "Fuck me some more," she said. I did. Her pussy was trying to drink my essence. She seemed near exhaustion after her next orgasm. "What will I be like if you change me?" she panted. Rolling us over again so she could lie on my chest, I said, "Just like you are now. You could continue working. After I teach you to hunt, and share a few feedings with you, I could move on." My penis, still hard as steel, twitched inside her. "How will you do it?" she gasped. "I will bring you to orgasm on my cock, and I will fill you with my semen. But I warn you, my dear, there will be no turning back. You will be forever changed. You will feel The Hunger of Us. You will devote the rest of time to drinking from the loins of others. Do you understand?" Fire flashed in her eyes, the passion of a true huntress. "Do it." Her abundant moisture, still tinged with the blood of her virginity, lubricated me as I clasped her to me tightly, pumped purposefully in in and out of her tight depths. "I will cum inside you soon, my precious one. I will bathe your womb in my juices, and you will be changed. Do you want this?" I demanded. He stare told me the answer, but she whispered, "Yes." This time, I allowed her pussy to draw my fluids into her. Every pulse of my seed was answered by a cry from deep in her soul. When I was done, she collapsed on top of me. After a while, she stirred. Looking at me with the true passion of Us, she said, "You're still hard." "Yes." "Can you cum again?" "Of course." I twitched my cock inside her. "I've never wanted a man to cum in my mouth before. I think I do now," she said. "That is what we call The Hunger. The only way to satisfy it is with oral sex. We must drink the sexual fluids of another," I said. She began to rock her pelvis gently, moving almost imperceptibly on my rigid shaft. "I've had oral sex with my girlfriends, and I've gone down on a guy before, but I've always had him finish on my boobs. But now, I want to swallow as much cum as I can!" "I shall take you hunting, my dear. Perhaps I might look for a snack myself." "I don't know if I can do it right. I want it, hell, I need it, but I don't know if I can just approach some random guy," she said. "Let me ask you a question, my dear. How often do you let yourself get picked up and taken to a hotel by 'some random guy'?" "I don't." "Correction. You didn't. Why did you come here with me tonight?" "I don't know," she replied. "You were just different from anyone I ever met. I wanted you almost the moment I saw you. I don't know what came over me." "My dear, you never had a chance," I chuckled. "I was feeling The Hunger tonight, and I came into your bar to hunt. I smelled your little pussy as soon as you came to my table, so I seduced you into letting me feed from you. I simply used the charms that all of Us possess. I can have any woman I want. I've drunk from movie stars, businesswomen, queens, and slaves." "Will I be able to do that?" "Of course. I could see in your eyes that you already had far more raw talent than most mortal women. When you had your first orgasm, the fire in your eyes looked very much like The Hunger. You've been controlling people all your life with your eyes, haven't you?" "I suppose I have. Do you think I will be able to find someone to feed from tonight?" "My poor, sweet, innocent newborn," I murmured as I kissed her, my small thrusts into her soaked sheath adding to our mutual pleasure. "Do you really think it will be difficult to find a man who would like to receive oral pleasure from an anonymous, pretty girl?" "May I practice on you, John?" "Of course. I will always be available to you, as you will to me." "May I feed from you now?" she asked. "If you feed from another first, you will fulfill your new destiny as a member of the clan of Us. We will hunt together, nourish each other, take pleasure from each other, but you will never have a life-mate." "Why?" she asked. "The teachings of The One Who Sees All require that only males choose life-mates. New females in the clan become life-mates by taking their first feeding from the one who took their virginity. This feeding must be done immediately after they have been de-flowered. The female must drink not only her life-mate's seed, but also her own virgin blood. This is why I have remained inside you from the first, so that, if we chose, you could do that. I would be blessed to have you as my life-mate." "May I still feed from others?" she asked. "You may, as I will also feed from whomever I choose. We will be partnered for eternity, but we will have what some modern people term an 'open marriage.' In fact, to symbolize this, I choose to give you this name to be called by mortals: Azelia." "That is a beautiful name. What does it mean?" "It is a Hebrew name, probably based on the early Greek word 'azelos, which means 'not jealous.'" "Azelia. Yes, I like it. I want to be your life-mate, John. I want to clean your cock of my virgin blood and drink your essence. Please feed me." The Hunger burned fiercely in her eyes as she finally separated herself from me. She moved to kneel at the altar of my groin and stared for a moment at my hard, wet, blood-tinged penis. Her tongue snaked out from between her lips to graze the head. A mortal would not have noticed, but my ears detected the sound of The Hunger in her gut. Again, she tasted me. As her belly growled, she smiled at me. "That's The Hunger talking, isn't it?" she asked. "It is, my sweet Azelia." "No mortal would hear that, would they? It would be a little embarrassing," she said. "It is a sound beyond the capabilities of mortals to detect. You will find all your senses more powerful than they were a few minutes ago. All of Us would hear the sound you make. We consider it a compliment." She moved her tongue, slowly exploring my glans. "I can taste blood, and I can taste my pussy and your sperm, but what I taste most is life." "You understand, don't you?" I asked. "Uh huh." She moved her head to lick the spilled fluids from my scrotum. "I'm wet again," she said. "I will help you with that after you've sated your Hunger, my love." "Feed me, John," she breathed. Then she began to engulf my cock. At first, she took only the head between her lips, her tongue snaking out to lick my upper shaft. Slowly, she began to move, taking a bit more of me on every thrust. When she reached her comfortable depth, she extended her tongue again to tease my flesh. Such passion. This woman was a natural. She seemed to know instinctively what I wanted, what I needed. Bobbing her head slowly up and down my length, she smiled at me, a look of pleasure mixed with the need in her bewitching eyes. "Don't cum yet, lover," she whispered, having paused in her sucking to more thoroughly cleanse our combined juices from my groin. "I can wait. You're doing well." "This is making me so hot, I could almost cum." "You can, darling. You can cum at will, whenever you like." "Cum with me, John. Feed me." She took me in her mouth again, sucking, licking, begging for my semen. It was time. Her hips were bucking with her orgasm on an imagined cock as I committed my soul to her for all eternity, filling her mouth with stream after stream of my product. She swallowed greedily, gratefully, The Hunger appeased. For now. The Hunger "It's so funny." She laughed, tossed her hair to one side. "Men are under the total and utter belief that women's desire does not exist." "I didn't say that," he answered, "I just said that women don't want sex like men do. You don't think about it like we do, you won't go to the point of nearly destroying and debasing yourself just to get off." She raised one perfectly smoothed eyebrow in a smirk. "We can't." she said plainly. "You can. Thousands of years of the patriarchy rest between your legs and between mine there is nothing but the threat of shame and unwanted pregnancy." "Cheery." He sank back in his chair, eyed her over the detritus of dinner. "I still don't agree though. It's not the same. Men and women are, you can't deny it, different." She shook her head, her curls quivering. "No. Desire isn't different. Not really, but our bodies are and that's what matters." "Well, I'm glad." He said, "Because I'm really a tits guy at heart." She laughed from behind her wine glass, set it back down on the table. "I think we're just going to have to agree to disagree." He nodded, said nothing. "There's nothing else you want?" she asked, cocking her head to the side, nodding towards the kitchen beyond. "Nothing else food or drink centric, no." he said, "Only you." She shook her head like she'd done many times before and gave him a look. The look; the look that told him she knew he was an idiot but she kept him around anyway. He liked the thought of being useful and entertaining for her. "Well then you're going to have to wait." She sighed. "I want to eat pudding, even if you don't." "Okay." He smiled. "I will. Would you like me to clear the table? I can at least be useful, right?" She smiled, stood, stretched, her bones clicking. "No, no." she shook her head. "I will. You worked so hard at dinner it seems only fair." As she passed she squeezed his shoulder, a smile playing on her lips. In truth, she hadn't been quite sure what she had expected when he mentioned he'd like to accept her request, her offer of dinner and drinks and playtime. Pulling the dish from the fridge, the bruised purple skins of the plums she'd arranged so delicately in the dish, their bright middles soaked in the bitter alcohol, she realised that she was glad she'd asked. She smiled contentedly. This was one of her favourite desserts made better by the vanilla tinged, creamy topping and the tiny flecks of almonds she scattered across the top. She grabbed a spoon and, at the last minute, a second one. Just in case. "You sure I can't tempt you?" she asked, sliding back into the seat, noting that he'd neatly stacked their abandoned plates into the centre of the table. He shook his head, watching her dig into the bowl, her hair falling into her face. She flipped it over her shoulder, focused on him again. He grinned. "Suit yourself." She said, licking the spoon. "It's good, if I do say so myself." He shrugged. "I was just wondering about, uh, playing tonight." "Oh?" she looked up. "Are you okay? If you feel uncomfortable or don't want to I'll understand. We don't have to get to it right away, you know." "No, no." he said, "It's not that. I just wondered, what you were wanted tonight." She smirked at him, watched him shift in his chair. "Well." She began, "First you can stop that thing with your knee." She gestured towards him with the spoon then swooped it back into her bowl. "Oh." He looked down, blushed at his bobbing leg then stopped. "Then you can take your clothes off." She said. "Oh. Now?" he asked. "Yes." She said. "Now, please." "Yeah." He didn't know what else to say and desperately grappled for a better response but nothing came. Instead, he focused on the insects filling his chest and his shallow breaths, the warm metal of his belt buckle as he stood. "Good boy." She leaned back in a chair and watched him kick off his shoes, pull off his socks and peel away his jeans. "Step around here so I can see you properly." She gestured with a short nod of her head to the square of carpet to her left. He moved as asked, awkward and blushing, acutely self-conscious, all knees and limbs and nerves in the face of her Rubenesque calm. "Stand up straight." She said. "Properly. Shoulders back." She eyed him happily, his leanness appealing to her, her mouth aching for the feel of his smooth skin and sinew under her tongue, his long limbs tangled around her. "Underwear off." "Oh." He hadn't meant it to sound like a question but it had and once more, he blushed, cursed himself. "Listen, I don't mind but-" he gestured towards his underwear. "It's a little-" "Hard?" she cut him off with a grin, the word a low roll of laughter that hit him square in the chest. "It's been a really long time since I've been with anyone and even longer since I did anything kinky. The last person I was with was pretty vanilla and-" He stopped, saw her hand raised, demanding silence, her mouth still set in a smile. "Happens to the best of us, sugar." She cooed. "That's kinda the point. Now take 'em off. Let me see you...properly." "Yeah." He nodded, pulled his underwear off, tossed them with the rest of his clothes. He stood in front of her again, half hard and awkward, his back arched forward. "Put your arms down by your sides." She said, her voice smooth, like milk in a glass. He obeyed and got another smile for his trouble. "You see." She said brightly. "Much better." She sucked the spoon again, the alcohol and sweet cream mingling on her tongue and behind it, the hard tang of metal like blood in her mouth. The bowl tinkled as she set it down, dropped the spoon into it, her eyes scanning over him like he was roast meat and cream cake and sweet and salt all rolled into one, like she hadn't eaten in a month. Which, if she was being honest, was a vast and painful understatement as it was the first time in a very long time that she would finally get what she wanted. She beckoned him nearer and rubbed his hip tenderly, looked up at him. "You're so beautiful. Anyone ever tell you that? Beautiful." She kissed his hipbone, ran her tongue over the jutting flesh, the warmth of his skin vaguely salty against her lips. "Oh." He sighed happily, his hand rising to her cheek then pulling back like he'd been burned. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, I-" She laughed and sank back. "It's fine." He returned his fingers to her smooth cheek, pushed her dark hair over her shoulder, slid under the strap of her dress. "Oh, god." He breathed again, painfully aware that her mouth was inches away from his hardening cock, ambling over his hip-bone, his flattened belly, her free hand running up the vulnerable curve of his thigh. She pulled back, looked up at him. "You know how this works, don't you?" she asked. He nodded. Said nothing. "I asked you a question." She said. "Answer it." "Sorry," he smiled. "I do, yes. I know." "How, then?" she said. "I'm here for you." He said, "Here for whatever you want me for." "You don't sound so sure." She teased. "Was that a little doubt rising up at the end there?" He laughed, looked down at her. "I'd be lying if I said this was entirely for you, wouldn't I?" "Hah. I suppose so." She answered, "But I know you'll be a gentleman and let me have what I want first, won't you?" He nodded, grinning, "Yes, Ma'am." "Good boy." She scooped a little of the vanilla cream still cold from the fridge onto her finger held it out to him. "Try it." "Oh." He smiled, bent to take it from her and, inevitably, missed as she wiped it across his face, giggling. "Silly boy." She smirked. "Silly, beautiful boy." She pulled him forward, sinking her hot mouth over his hardening length, making him gulp and gasp for air. "Oh, yes, Ma'am." He groaned, a shiver running through him, his nipples tingling. "Oh, God. Oh God." She moaned happily in response, luxuriating in the feel of him in her mouth. It had been so long she had forgotten how much she liked men; the way the smelt and their hair and the comforting hardness of her bodies. She pressed her hands flat against his belly and shivered in her seat, grinding her hips in slow circles, the cheap plastic a poor substitute for the man in front of her. She sank back and smiled, heavy lidded, drunk on him. "You know." She mused, "I think I want to fuck you first. I need to, I won't be able to concentrate on trying to crop you otherwise." "Please." He nodded, bending to kiss her. "You're wearing too many clothes." "Patience." Her hand flew to his wrist and she pulled it from under the strap of her dress again. "If I want you to remove my dress then I'll ask you." She breathed. "Sorry." His eyes were fixed on hers, his lips open slightly. She curled her hand through his hair, around his neck, planted her mouth on his, her thumb running over the small square of flesh where his neck and shoulder met. The gesture sent tremors through him again, making the insects in his chest unfurl their wings, pop into bright butterflies that danced before his eyes. "Baby." She rubbed his belly and pulled away. "Go to the couch. Come with me." She pulled him up, striding the few paces, quickly realising that as she moved her thighs were slick with need for him and the old ache had returned with a voracity that she thought she would never feel again. She bit her lip and pulled him down, conceded this time to let his intrepid fingers and wondering mouth complete their task. He pulled her dress down, peppered her collarbones with kisses, made her purr with delight. "You still have pudding on your face." She laughed. "Here." Her tongue darted out again and she licked it off, the sweetness lingering on her lips. He laughed as she lapped at him, his fingers working at her bra, pulling it away, watching her slip out of it and roll her shoulders. He leant forward, nuzzled against her, a long sigh coming from him. "You smell so good." He breathed. "So good, like oranges and sunshine and warmth." "What?" she asked. "Like skin." He said. She shook her head, kissed him to quiet him. "You telling me I smell bad, boy?" "No." he sighed, "God no. I mean it's a comfort, the way you smell. It's that 'you' smell I love so much." She realised that he was stroking her arm, his thumb running easily over her naked shoulder and more, that she liked it, that she wanted him to hold her for a long while and bury his face her hair and tell her she smelt good. "That's cute." She said, laying back, the inky fabric of her dress, pooled around her waist. "But there are other matters at hand." She grinned, watched his eyelids flutter as she curled her palm around his cock again, stroked him with the softest of touches, his breaths coming higher as she worked her hand around his engorged flesh. "I hope you're still hungry." She cooed, watching a clear bead form at the tip of his cock. She bent her head, darted her tongue out to catch it, her lips caressing the tip. "Ah, yes." He exhaled. "Hmm." "Good." She sat back and edged off her own underwear, dropped them to the floor. "Because I want you to fuck me thoroughly after this." She said, her fingers running over his length with rising pressure teasing more glassy droplets from him until they glittered down his length. "I like to keep you eager." He said nothing, for once lost for words, stunned into silence by his desperate need to please her, to give to her what she seemed so intent on giving to him or taking from him, he didn't know. The way she drank him in, her eyes inky made him nervous and thrilled and strangely coy all at once. He pulled her close, his mouth pressed against hers, splitting her lips open, moaning into her. She tasted of sugar and alcohol and of his own, familiar saltiness. "Hey, greedy." She sighed, he hand flat against his chest. "Me first, remember? I'll take what I want." "Sorry." He said. "Ish." She slapped his thigh, making him hiss through his teeth. She laughed. "Oh," she mused. "I like that. Look at you. You leapt right forward when I did that." He eyed her sideways, the blood rising in him again. "Just surprised, that's all." "Well, I'm not done yet." She said. Her fingers pressed around his neck and she kissed him again. "And I still want you to fuck me." He nodded, watched her wriggle out of her clothes until she sprawled next to him, equally naked, her thighs glittering. Breathing heavily, he sank down and pushed her legs apart, lapped at her slick folds, sucked at her aching clit. She moaned, wound her fingers into his hair. "Up." She ordered, the word hard edged and glinting in the light like a blade over his flesh. She pulled him against her and kissed him again, licked her juices from his lips. "I didn't ask you to use your mouth." She bit his lip, watched him giggle, his breath soft against her neck then reached down and moved him. Gently, she exhaled then slid forward under him and swallowed him whole.