Dracula's Daughter - Sex Stories

Dracula's Daughter

... return. You see how much I love you." When she stood the body rolled off the couch. The sick thump on the carpet was loud enough that you could hear it all the way through the flat, but there was no one here but they two. When he arms circled him he did not resist. When she kissed him, some flicker of a memory came back, recalling some other woman in another place, one he'd held close very like this and thought to kiss...but it was gone just as suddenly, and all he knew then was the hard, strong, lithe body coiling around him. Her mouth devoured his, pushing him down. Her legs gripped his body. He stepped over the unmoving figure on the floor and let himself sink onto the same couch, where she undressed him, pulling apart the clothes she'd covered him in and running her hands over his body. She was cold, and she made him feel cold. Her body flexed and twisted over his. Her breasts were utterly white, each crowned by a dark nipple. Her belly was flat and smooth, her neck long and slender, her arms lithe and graceful. She looked small and fragile, though he knew she was not, and when she lowered her head he was seized with the urge to take her in his arms and comfort her. Instead she held him down, lowering herself onto him and drawing a thin, sharp gasp from him. She tightened almost immediately. Her fingers traced the line of his neck until she found the pulse and when she rode him it matched the beating of his heart. "I love this city of yours. I think I will stay her ...

... always. I would like to watch it change with the generations, watch its children dance and play and then grow old. To see sad smiles of memory come into their faces as they steal away and die. Won't it be wonderful?" He gasped his agreement as she went up and down him, the force of each rise and fall seeming to push him further and further down until he felt he might be buried or break altogether. He spotted a few red drops dappling her milky white skin, spilled remains that she had missed. He had the awful urge to lick them away, his rough tongue scouring her marble body clean...but she scraped them with the tip of one sharp nail and then her red tongue darted out, licking it clean herself. Then she threw herself onto him, lips tracing the lines of his bare chest. When her mouth reached his neck he froze in fear, but she only kissed him gently, her hips still wriggling on top of him. Only a few candles lit the bedroom and in the darkened mirror they glowed like white phantoms, hazy and unreal. Thunder rumbled outside...wait, that wasn't thunder. It was too close... The wolf snarled and John jumped, falling over the back of the couch. The animal stalked forward, lips drawn back, but as soon as a lily-white hand touched it on the ear it heeled, trotting back and lying beside the couch. She clucked her tongue. "Poor John. Did my new pet scare you?" He stood, feeling sheepish. "It's...fine." The wolf eyed the body on the floor, and with a start John realized he had forgotten the dead ...