Vampire girl #2

For our second night, I brought a sort of picnic. For her there was red wine and steak tartare. I was quite charmed, in a way, by the fact that Diane found the steak tartare quite challenging. All talk, these vampire girls. I’d also brought along plenty of fruit, so that was okay.

When we went to bed I took off her corset as well. She protested a bit, but she relaxed once I started moving my tongue down from her left nipple to her cunt, and then up to her right nipple, and then back to her cunt. My hands squeezed her breasts and my tongue pushed her cunt, hard, while she pressed against my face. Soon she wasn’t missing her corset at all.

She was a vampire girl and not a bdsm girl, let alone a submissive, so she thought that a simple thing like tying her wrists to the bedposts was enjoyably perverse, and a good compensation for losing the corset. I’d turned her onto her front to tie her, with her calves between my knees, and my cock sometimes touching her excellent ass. Once she was tied, with pillows under her hips, she rocked her body up and down like a rubber duck in choppy waters, with three of my fingers in her cunt and my thumb in her ass.

In time she made it clear that she wanted to be fucked, not fingered. Fucked right now. So I lifted her hips, with my thighs between hers, and slid into her cool, melon-wet cunt. We were very slow, my vampire girl and her male victim, and deep, and she didn’t notice for a while what was wrong. 

When we sped up, and were fucking hard and deep and for dear life: that was the right time for her, the emotional and sexual pitch she reached when she would have bitten her male. But her face was in the pillow, and she couldn’t turn her head far enough, and her wrists were tied. There was a brief commotion. She wanted to bite me, it was time to bite me, and she couldn’t reach. She didn’t ask to be untied, but she did call me a bastard. 

So I pulled out of her nearly all the way, the tip of my cock just inside her lips, and held there. She wailed, dismayed: empty.

Then I smacked the side of her bottom. My own body was in the way, and I couldn’t make it as meaty a smack as I’d have liked. But she knew she’d been smacked, and she needed my cock back, and she quietened down. Being smacked wasn’t one of her perversions, but I hadn’t smacked her hard, and I’d felt pretty sure by then that she’d like anything technically perverse, so long as it wasn’t unpleasant. Anyway, I pushed my cock all the way into her, and she arched up her arse to meet me, so bygones were bygones.

We started the fuck again from the beginning, excruciatingly slow, slowly speeding up. This time, when we got back to the hard fast section, when she was gasping and concentrating, she suddenly started shaking her head from right to left, and I heard the pillowcase rip. She liked things between her teeth when she was excited. But she made no more attempts to bite me.

And she came, like a banshee. A happy banshee on a train. When we got our breaths back she said, “Oooh, you bastard.”

But she was happy. I said, “Ah, the creatures of the night, such music they make.” I meant the racket she’d made while being fucked by a bastard. 

So she called me a wanker instead. That was sort of affectionate, and anyway I agreed with her. But it was time for us to talk about her thing about blood, and drawing blood.  

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