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                                 Fantasy/vampsex
                                          Vampyre Sex
                 It's late.  Dinner was sumptuous, small talk over candlelit table.
                 Watching you watching me while ostensibly watching your knife and
                          fork.  We both watched our wording.  Cautious. 
               We go to the club.  Motes are lazy in the air.  The music throbs.  We
                sit. Watching.  I nod.  Rise.  Walk out to the dance floor.  Begin 
                   I move slightly at first.  The beat is strange.  Unwholesome. 
                Alternative. It drives me.  In the shadowy lights I am a creature of
               smoky black.  Dark. Hungry.  Almost angry as I drive my heels into the
                                            solid wood. 
                Savoring my solo the hips move first.  Sway.  Thrust.  Arms follow.
                    Shoulders circle.  I shrug my open shirt (your shirt) off my
               shoulders. Spaghetti camisole strap slipping down.  Black on black on
                 creamy skin.  I'm smooth and sharp.  Boots grind.  Hair tossed to
                                        cover closed eyes. 
                I open my eyes.  You stand before me.  Dark.  Brooding.  I flicker a
                                          smile in.  Out. 
                   You begin to move.  Arms akimbo.  Self absorbed.  Thrashing. 
                  Storming.  The music is a monstrous beat with an afterthough of
                                              melody. 
                We are joined by others.  People spinning. Flailing.  In black.  In
                             webbing.  In leather.  Unique.  Grounded. 
               A sheen of sweat coats us.  First date.  I hardly know your name.  You
                  remind me of an angry mongrel fresh out of the gutter.  A hungry
                beggar seeking scraps.  A dethroned monarch seeking retribution.  A
                                  broken bird. A statue.  Myself. 
               We never touch then.  We look.  They watch us.  We watch each other. 
               We watch them.  Time stills.  Colors play.  You mouth the words to me
                           we both move to.... "you're unbelievable"... 
                         Enough.  The dance can continue later.  And does.
               The tension gives the room a tingling glamor as we near one another. 
                The electricity crackles.  Anticipation brittle between us until the
                moment we touch.  Lips meet.  Lips brush cheeks, brush eyes, caress
                   necks.  Hands run through hair, caress shoulders, rove backs. 
                 Your laser-blue eyes set me on a slow burn.  Your hand strokes my
                 cheek. You gather my hair between your fingers.  Pull me to you. 
                The honey-hot vortex inside me screams to me that I have to get next
               to you.  I am consumed.  My clothes a pile on the floor, I am unaware
                of how I am suddenly naked in your arms, skin brushes skin, writhing
                in tantalizing rhythms as I grab your arms, pull them around me.  I
                knead your sinewy thighs as we grind gently, lose our balance, yield
                               to the bed the obeisance it requires. 
               My hands brush your chest, stroke the strong, flat lobes, dawdle down
                the soft valley of your torso.

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  Your hips fascinate me, and I caress
                 then kiss their jutting promontories.  My teeth graze them and you
               moan.  My mouth moves over to your side and I take the skin between my
               teeth and bite, gently, sucking, gnawing.  You move away from me, and
               our eyes lock as I raise my head.  Mine are laval, burgundy, curiously
                slow and sultry.  I smile.  You are stunned and speechless.  I push
               you down on the bed.  Your responses are dulled, your mind swims.  You
                             are mine.  This one fact is inescapable. 
               Between tormented breaths you moan aloud as my mouth roves your body. 
               My meal moans so sweetly, I think, as my teeth grace your wrists, your
               neck, the insides of your thighs.  In your mind the vortex of heat and
                 peace and sleep are overcome by the sensations of my mouth bathing
                 you, tasting you, consuming you.  Immobilized, you flicker back to
               nights you have spent wondering about hungers, wondering about yours,
                about others'.  Your mind wanders as you feel the hot brandy of your
                  spirit flowing outwards, yearning to pour it into me you writhe,
                                             captive. 
                  Now there is nothing you would not give me, nothing you will not
               share, your secrets, your dreams, your desires.  My mouth has settled
                   at your left side and I nurse the tiny wounds I have created,
               injecting my being into you so your hungers will someday be satisfied.
                I suckle at your side as my hand - long and spiderlike, perches your
               hip.  My hair, long and tendrilled, boils over your body and you  move
                against it, laboring even to breathe now, laboring to continue your
               existence as you reach out to me, giving, giving, ecstatic to be drunk
                                           of so deeply. 
                 Starlike and stung, your eyes close.  Your mouth shapes words you
                cannot speak.  You are ecstatically lost, left to wander elsewhere,
                  inwards, somewhere east of Eden.  The darkness submerges you, in
               clouds and roils of carnal longing you writhe gently, working to stay
                and leave simultaneously. I have taken you neither by reason nor by
               force.  I have taken you by the powers that live in me, and will rise
               in you.  I have given you the phoenix-flower of my love, and you will
               rise from the ashes to bestow this two-edged giftling sword on others.
               I cradle you in my arms, after, sliding my hands over your cool body. 
                   I pull the blanket up, stroking you, murmuring gentle words of
                reassurance as your eyes swim back to the darkness you will grow to
                love even as I do. The candle flickers on the windowsill as the wind
                 gently nurses its flame. As I will nurse yours.  The hot, liquid,
                   crimson wax slips slowly down the taper, and I lick my lips.to More Fantasy Sex Stories and Sexual Fantasies
                                                  
            
                                                  
              
         
                                                  
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