The Power of Blood - Sex Stories

The Power of Blood

... that time stops around us. Like switchblades, my canins extend, and I bury them in her pussy lips. There’s a sharp gasp - there always is - then she throws back her head and screams in ecstasy. Power rushes into me, sating me, filling me, and a clarity settles over me that has no second. My heart beats slowly, swoosh, then what feels like minutes pass by before I feel another swooshing beat. She, Miranda, writhes in pleasure while she gifts me with the power of her blood. I start to feel light-headed suddenly, and I fight against the hunger that never really stops. I pull out my teeth and time returns to normal. My chest heaves and my breath rasps. Miranda slumps forward, her fingers still buried in my hair, and fights to get back her breathing. We both stare at each other, me, my one hunger now sated but another growing steadily, and she, blissful, almost ethereally beautiful. She lets go of my hair and cups my cheek. “That was lovely,” she whispers. “I hate what comes now.” “Don’t lie to me, please,” I growl softly and rub my cheek against her palm. “Really, I do.” She lifts my face up by my chin. “I didn’t, at first. Now, though… now I’d love nothing more than have you between my legs all day, every day, have you lick me and bite me in my most sensitive spots.” I close my eyes and blush deeply. She knows too well what such sweet-talk does to me. She also knows that I love Griselda, that my world revolves around her - but that sweet, adorable Griselda, with all her ...

... half-fairy power, could never still my hunger. And hunger surges again, ferocious and consuming. It starts in my loins, setting free a flame that burns with more desire than any human could imagine. It spreads all through me, all over me, and my nipples harden until they are screaming with want. “Fuck,” I gasp. “Quick!” Like lightning, Miranda is out of her chair and pulling me through the door, across the narrow hallway and into the next room - that room. They are waiting already. Bright lights shine from all corners and make me blink. A huge bed sits in the middle, covered with blood red satin, how symbolic. Cameras whirr, and I am pushed onto the bed, flop down on my back and hear the monster inside me scream with delight. Three, four, five men encircle me, all of them tall and muscular, with chests and arms like chiseled from marble, but more importantly, naked and with iron-hard rods pointing into my direction. I arch my back, spreading my legs as far as I can and running my hands lewdly over my crotch. “Fuck me!” I yell, hearing my throaty, needy voice like that of a stranger, but they take their time coming closer. “Fuck me!” My demand turns into a plea. “Fuck me, now, please!” Then they are all over me, tearing at my clothes and pulling them away in shreds. Their fingernails scratch my skin, but I spur them on. I’m naked. My juices run down between my thighs and into my ass crack like a river. I’m hoisted up and one of them lies down underneath me, then strong hands guide me ...