Your erotic stories

I decided to wait for you, even though we'd made no plans. I know you'll be here. You love to visit this small wooded area, with its immense old oaks even when you're not on the hunt. I'm sure you can sense that I'm waiting. I sit with my back to a tree trunk with my knees drawn up to my chest. The silver moon winks at me through the branches that shiver in the breeze.

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Caleb ran down the alley trying to make it back home. Lucien was in town and the master vampire wasn't very happy with him. Dodging a street merchant, he found the fire escape for his apartment and quickly climbed the three flights to his window. It wasn't always like this. Caleb had been the mate for a master vampire. The master of London if you want to be more technical, however he had always felt out of place in London. Lucien had tried to make him feel comfortable, but it never worked too well.

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Dracul finds the kid high up on the fire ladder, outside the familiar window. On the regular spot where the boy can be found almost every night, gazing longingly in through the glass with tired eyes, hidden by the darkness when the lights are on on the inside. He sits there, silently observing the motions of the everyday life.

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The vampire is impaling me over and over. His teeth deep in my neck, sucking in a measured pace as he works his jaw to grip my throat anew after each long draught. Enough to satisfy his need, or one of them, yet not too much to allow me to pass out or not comprehend, experience the full measure of having him in my bed, his cock up my ass impaling me at a faster and faster pace.

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Jamie peered over the lip of his cup, the sweet taste of the mocha frappe still clinging to his own lips, as he scanned the sprinkling of customers that were scattered about in the small cafe. A boring pair reading their papers and magazines. Two others ensnared in a heated embrace. Another writing busily. All bored him. But there was one man, hunkered over his own cup, brow furrowed in concentration, who caught Jamie's curiousity.

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Jordan stepped outside his small London hotel and paused. His business here in England was completed and he had one more day to sightsee before his flight home. This late October day had been cold and drizzly since morning and he was glad he'd saved his free time for some museums. He held an umbrella and glanced upwards. The sky was nearly dark with the early winter night.

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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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Author's Notes: Contains violence and what could be considered blood-play. ~*~*~ He could smell the blood everywhere. The scent was so strong that it seemed to cling to everything in the large building as he hurried up the stairs, taking two or three at a time before he burst into the room, nearly pulling the door from it's frame and hinges with the force of opening it.

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The room is getting darker. Out of the window I can see wooded hills on the eastern horizon, catching the last orange tinge of daylight, as the sun sets behind us. On the table by the bed there is a candle and a tinderbox. I strike a spark with some difficulty, as if the air is damp, and nurture a little fire to light the candle. The illumination it gives is meagre and yellow, serving only to heighten the shadows in the room, rather than dispel them. I rise and cross to the window.

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Chapter ONE Jordin Tyler knew the streets of Capitol City pretty well, but the Lower East Side was something else. The old "Bohemian" section of town had a lot of winding little cobblestone lanes and odd-shaped buildings. In the daytime it was quaint and picturesque, but on a dark, cloudy night with fog drifting in, it was easy to get lost there.

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