Graphic lesbian sex, questionable consent, and...well...blood-drinking. Also more than likely entirely derivative, albeit subconsciously. If any of that disturbs you, please skip this one. Comments welcome!
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I'm so done with this school, with these ridiculous uniforms and my jackass classmates trying to look up my skirt and down my shirt. (Who picked these clothes? I mean the skirt is halfway up the thighs for god's sake. And these shirts must have been designed for girls who, well, didn't develop as early and as, uh, fully as me - which, trust me, is not all it's cracked up to be, big tits are huge pain even in clothes that weren't poorly designed for someone a lot _smaller_.
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"Silas!"
Instinct took over. Silas Oswald dropped to his knees, taking cover behind the waist high bar that extended along the length of the Tesla-Coil Tavern. The movement was futile; Mistress Lavinia had already seen him and wasn't likely to forgive his disobedience anytime in the near future.
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Geoff watched as the young couple walked into the darken club. He wasn't alone, nearly every other man watched her too. Geoff sat at the bar, watching everything going on around him. He loved crowds, seeing the interactions of people in different situations. The young woman walked past him, wearing a back, pinstriped mini dress with spaghetti straps. It amazed him that the dress could hold her large breasts without breaking the thin straps.
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Last night after we made love and you left me, I replayed our conversation in my head. We've known each other for a long time, so I admit that it surprised me to hear you say that sometimes you have a hard time telling me your desires. It seems like you're embarrassed, or ashamed. I don't ever want you to feel that way. You can trust me, you know.
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Brooke was home from summer vacation and already had way too much time on her hands as it was, but this summer was different she was home from her sophomore year of college and she was undecidedly single. Brooke was short, and thin. She had large breast, and a nice round ass. At 19, her dark skin, and long hair made her a vixen that she was proud of being. She walked around with very little to cover her voluptuous body, but that didn't matter she loved being looked at. She loved the thought of people getting turned on by looking at her.
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Ann and I were on the last night of our summer holiday. We decided to go to a classy club offering an adult orientated show for our last night away. Normally Ann would baulk at going to this sort of place, but she seemed to be very relaxed from the holiday and possibly all the good sex had left her a little more receptive and more adventurous. It was quite a sophisticated club so we dressed smartly.
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My beloved Mistress R sat naked on the end of the bed, still slightly wet from her shower. Her legs were pressed together, hiding her delicious pussy from view. I was trembling slightly as I looked at her gorgeous, glistening naked breasts which were right in my line of sight as I knelt on the floor, naked except for the cock ring that was making me agonisingly hard. She placed a finger on my chin and lifted my head to look into her eyes. Her voice was calm, but authoritative.
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Heavy rain hammered loudly on the roof of our porch. Strong winds whipped through the mesh screening, blowing the heat of the summer day quickly away. The wind pushed raindrops through the screen, vaporizing the droplets into a fine, refreshing mist. The random lighting strikes that brilliantly lit the night-time sky were quickly followed by deafening claps of thunder. The room was pitch black, interrupted only by the persistent flashes of bright white light. Being out in the elements, experiencing the power of mother nature was intensely stimulating.
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"Sure" you texted me.
It was a simple, unvarnished word, but in this instance, laden miraculously with the stuff of utter elation.
I had arranged a trip out to the mountains on a pretext with the hope of seeing you for the first time. It was a very adult thing, I reflected on the flight over.
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