The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

An story with adult themes





The friendship had grown through a series of shared messages on a website we both frequented. Then one day you had made a simple exclamation to something I’d told you that had started something I’d never expected.

“That sucks,” is what you’d said.

“Don’t say things like that,” I’d retorted, imagining a fantasies, regarding your oral attentions.

“Why not?” You’d queried. I hadn’t expected you to say something like that, after all, we’d talked of so much, html code, emotions, relationships and film, but never sex.

“Because I’m a good boy,” I’d replied, glad that you couldn’t see the smile on my face as I’d said so.

“Well, I don’t want to…” you’d said, “you don’t mind, do you?”

I’d hardly minded, but all of a sudden, I’d certainly been aroused.

“It just doesn’t fit with my image of pure Crystal,” I’d said, making an allusion to your name.

“Well things aren’t always as they seem,” you had responded, to add to my list of surprises. Then the list had been lengthened somewhat when you had suggested we continue the discussion at you home.



*



Entering the room, I stare across to where you’re sat, before a long-low coffee table, in the middle of the sofa, knees together, hands clasped over them.

You’re wearing a blue-denim jacket, loose over a floral patterned dress, hose on your legs and white court shoes. Your hair is worn loose and the make-up you’ve got on isn’t heavy. But, you are wearing a light red lipstick and a welcoming smile.

I wonder if you’re nervous like me, as your eyes follow my progress, as I walk slowly across the room, to stand on the other side of the coffee table from you.

I’m obscuring your view of the television; but I’m sure you don’t mind, positive that this moment is what we both want.

“Crystal…” I whisper, surprised at how easily I’m able to say your name through the tightness my throat. I wanted this, so badly.

Behind me the adventure on the screen continues; as does ours, as you look up at me and call my name, “Neil.”

“I would, but I’d rather sit next to you,” I joke, in an effort to lighten the mood.

You move with a light smile on your face, edging a little to the right and pat the empty space to your left.

“So, sit…”

I walk round the coffee-table and sit down, turning to look at you.

“You know…” I start to say ‘you know I’m so-pleased to see you’, but my words are cut off, as you drape your left arm round my neck and press your right forefinger against my lips, to silence me.

“Shhhhhh… I know…” I hear the words said so close to my lips my heartbeat increases, with the passion of the moment and the possibility of my desire being fulfilled.

What happens next seems so natural: as you kiss me, which I return with interest, pulling you to me, blood pumping faster, as I seek entrance to your mouth with an eager tongue. And, as the kiss continues I ease you back, so you’re lying beneath me, my elbows providing support, so I don’t crush you.

Then I manoeuvre you, so you’re against the sofa back and place my right hand on your knee, delighting in the feel of nylon on your leg as our tongues mesh and each of us seeks possession of the other.

As we continue to kiss, my hand moves to you thigh and I’m sure I can feel your heart-rate increase like mine, as you part your legs a little.

But, when I reach the flesh at the top of your hold-ups you abruptly pull out of our embrace and clamp your thighs together. Then you grasp my hand, to remove it from your warmth. I’m crestfallen, as I want to enter you, to taste you: and, enjoy the sensual pleasure of flesh upon flesh.

You then take my hands in yours and encourage me to stand before you and looking down a moment, as if momentarily unsure, you suddenly look up at me, smiling.

“This is what you wanted,” you state simply, as I look down, to watch you undo the belt clasp and unfasten the button on my jeans: and, you look up at me again, as you slowly ease my zip downward.

I groan, with anticipation, as you smile, looking at the bulge in my black Calvin Klein boxers, running your left hand over it.

“Someone’s pleased to see me,” you tease with a grin, as I sigh at your touch.

Then taking hold of the waistband at my hips, you ease the boxers down to my thighs, unveiling my seven inches, of cut manhood.

My penis feels good in your fingers, as you lean forward a little, your left hand on my right thigh, my shaft in held gently in your right hand, as you look at it with your mouth just inches away. And, you begin licking the crown, already leaking pre-cum, in anticipation of the joys your mouth will bring me.

As you suck the head, licking the length, caressing my flesh, you take pleasure in my erection hardening further, for you and you look up at me a moment as I mouth just one word, ‘please.’

You begin to suck with serious intent and it doesn’t take long, till I gently hold your head in both my hands, thrusting my shaft into your receptive mouth, as I’ve wanted to do for so long. And I close my eyes, groaning as I enjoy the sensation.

Yet, all too soon, I feel the tremor build within in my groin, announcing the onset of climax and my ejaculation.

“I’m going to cum,” I warn you snapping my eyes open, as the trembling in my legs increases and I know I can only endure seconds more of this sense heightening pleasure your mouth provides.

And, removing my hands from your head I place them on your shoulders, to gently push you away, so you don’t have to drink my cream. You just shake your head, hold my thighs and continue my blow-job, with increased fervour.

“Oh yessss…” I cry, head back, as I jet my creamy seed into your mouth and it’s only when you’ve drained me do you stop. Then you take me in hand, lick me clean and smiling once again, run your tongue over your lips.

Breathing heavily I redress, quite sated and as you sit back, a contented look on your face, flushed with your exertion.

“Did you like that?” You ask, somewhat unnecessarily I think.

“Oh-boy yes,” I tell as I sit next to you again: “That was excellent.”

I take you in my arms and as we kiss again I taste myself and appreciate it, while I am grateful for what you did, for me.

“Now I’ve had my starter, I’m suddenly hungry. Do want to have something to eat?” You say with a grin, as you caress my left cheek.

“Yes,” I retort, grinning as well: “I want to eat you!”

An Adult musing - with a friend.





Kneeling before you, as you sit at the pc. I unclasp your jeans and ease them and your panties over your hips and arse, slowly: easing them down to your ankles, then off.



Then I part your thighs, and press my face to you sex, smelling of you, as you try to type, creating more typo's than before, as I start to flick at your clitoris, giving it the attention it needs, as I use my thumbs to open you wide, do that I have access to more of you: all of you.



And as my thumbs enter your moist warmth, I lathe your opened sex, then clit, with an eager tongue, as I seek to give you pleasure: and you’re very soon unable to use the keys. Then you clutch at the back of my head, drawing me in, as I continue to use my tongue.



You buck against my face. Soon I am juice-slickened, taking delight in your sighs, as you suck at your own fingers. Then you run your hands through your hair as a tremor sweeps through you and I taste your blood on my lips, as I sink my teeth into your thigh flesh, drinking of you still.

Care In The Community



Having purchased a return to Liverpool, I was on the way to voluntary work and the fellow in charge at the station asked, “What do you do?”

“Poison the homeless,” I’d told him.

“Poison the homeless?” He’d repeated, as a query.

“You’ve never tasted my cooking,” I’d explained, to clarify my remark.

Then I’d added, “I work in a soup kitchen.”

“Ah, care in the community eh…” he’d retorted with a smile.

And with mock seriousness, I’d answered, “Yeah, but they don’t care for me…”

Not for intended for minors.



For A Friend – ‘Venus In Blue-Jeans’



I'd like to slip my hand down your jeans now! Just to taste you, on my fingers. I'd slide my fingers downward; and into you, as I press my hard cock between the valley of you buttocks, as I bite your exposed neck, then rock my finger back and forth over your throbbing moist clit, then deeper still.

And as I bite your neck, you are swept with bolts of intense pleasure and smiling with lascivious intent, I bite harder, as I finger-fuck you!

"Ahhh, jeeezzzz Neil!" You cry, as your pussy begins to spasm around my fingers!

On the Promenade



Blonde hair in pigtails, the slender teen tottered on platform highheels as she walked the length of the promenade, the paint peeling railings and the river, twenty feet down on the other side.

She was walking from Egremont Ferry down towards New Brighton.

It was dark and she glanced to her sides often, obviously nervous, to anyone who might see her; and, thankful of the pools of yellow light from the overhead lampposts, to her left. Yet, it little to cheer her at the foreboding tall wall, to her left, broken occasionally by a stairwell leading up to the street level.

Pale blue eyes, set midst a pale freckled face, darted anxiously back and forth, as the teen stared cautiously into the shadows, where anything might lurk; where “he” might be waiting.

If anyone asked, she had a ‘cover-story’, about leaving a photographer at ‘The Ferry’ who had slipped a hand too far, as he’d been taking some promotion shots.

She wore a white short sleeve angora sweater, which ended just above her navel, bought to emphasise her flat stomach and tan.

The teen filled it well, with a respectable 34c.

Worn low on her birdbone hips, was a short pleated tartan skirt that reached mid-thigh. On her feet, toetails painted red she wore strappy white stack highheels.

From the shadows she feared so much, he watched her walk, buttocks swaying.

Darius hadn’t fed since the night previous and she did look so appealing.

As he approached she stepped beneath a street lamp. He stayed way from the light, his face in shadows, as he followed her.

Finally, he came out of the shadow, in long black leather coat, with a penetrating gaze that captured Melina’s attention immediately.

“Come to me…” She did as his eyes compelled, allowing him to take her in his arms, her neck inclined, for him.

He wrapped her slim body in his powerful arms, as he lowered his mouth, teeth bared and as they penetrated her flesh, she sighed.

Darius drank of her, oblivious that she was satisfied that she’d achieved what she wanted.

Suddenly, she pressed a silver crucifix against his hand, burning him badly: a crucifix that had moments earlier been concealed down right white sock.

In the thrall of pain, sheer searing pain, the vampire dropped her from his embrace, a trickle of blood, at the corners of his lips.

“How dare she?” the vampire cried, emitting a silent scream of hate toward his prey, watching, as she ran to the railings.

Briefly, she looked down into the water, her skirt raising a little, to show, much of her long legs; and a lot of her thigh: and, just a trace of white.

Abruptly she turned to him, as he drew his smile into a wide smile and so doing, expose his pronounced canine, still dripping with her blood.

The teen was in a crouch, looking up at him, as she laughed.

“You fool! You’re dead. The only thing is, you don’t know it.”

He was puzzled and watched as she put her right hand to the wound on her neck.

“You drank from me!”

Now he was very puzzled: his victim was no longer wary of him, no longer frightened, of the night and all it held.

“I’ve been searching for you for years now!” She snapped, laughing maniacally.

Bemused, Darius stood frowning: ‘why was she laughing?’

“It’s taken a long time to find you. You killed my sister!”

“And?” He queried, in a deep sonorous tone.

“I found a man to enjoy me…” She exalted.

“A man with days to live, dying of HIV!” She told him, with triumph in her eyes.

And, all of a sudden Darius felt sick, very sick.