sexstories.com

Introduction:

A one-shot vampire snuff smut. Not particularly gory or good, but I’m just trying something out.

She could have pretended the first time was a fluke. Self-defense, like she told herself the next morning. For the next few weeks even; until, honestly, it had happened again. And again. And again, all in one week, during the thunderstorms that plagued her city. She couldn’t pretend it was a fluke anymore.

Sarah preened in the reflection of a closed bar shop window. She studied her brilliant blue hair- well, not so brilliant anymore. The color had gradually bled from her locks, betraying the streaky dark blonde she tried to hide. Her smudged eyeshadow looked like two bruises on either side of her nose in the faint light. Johnston Street was poorly lit so late in the evening; the bars and their caterwauling clientele were another three blocks over. The only building of any note on the street was the public library and it’d been shuttered since six.

There was a sudden clash from the corner of the road.

Sarah’s wet eyes whipped to the sound. A staggering, lumpy shadow straightened a toppled trash bin and cursed. Loudly, slurred. The stream of consciousness, just out of earshot, was interrupted by a peal of nervous laughter. The dark face of the figure turned towards the woman by the strip mall, across the small parking lot.

“‘Aye, you!”

It happened again. Blood rushed to Sarah’s head, filling her ears with static. Her senses strained- no, they sharpened. She could taste his acrid sweat on the breeze, smell his boozey breath. His heart beat slowly in his throat. She could practically feel his pulse under her fingertips already. Under her lips. He was still yards away but she could taste him in the back of her mouth.

The drunkard stumbled forward, propelled by something unknowable to Sarah. If she’d moved her eyes from the man to the window she would have understood; as her lungs filled with the stink of him she seemed to inflate. Her limp hair shined and floated around her glowing face, illuminated by her round blue eyes. They literally gleamed, lit from within like a lightening bug. She bared her teeth and curled her fingers into claws. Her chest heaved under her t-shirt. Every new breath filled her with increased fervor. Every time she breathed, he was drawn further into her spell.

He flew across the parking lot into her arms. Or rather, he dragged her into his arms and flung them both into the window. His hands fumbled their way under her sweater over the swell of her breasts and the flimsy bra hiding them from his molestation. As the stranger groped her Sarah lowered her face to his neck and sniffed, deep. He stank of cheap liquor and cigarettes, dirty linoleum and- cocaine, perhaps? That was new. New was fun. Sarah hovered over his jugular, panting, starving, and the stranger finally yanked her bra down and pinched her stiff nipples.

With a snarl Sarah sunk her teeth into the man’s throat. Her canines elongated, piercing his pulsating flesh with razor-sharp points. He shuddered as his skin tore then quickly stilled and brought one hand down to Sarah’s skirt. When he lifted it over her hip there was nothing else in the way of his searching fingers; by now Sarah knew not to wear panties. They only got in the way.

Sarah’s eyes fluttered shut as the first drop of the man’s blood hit her tongue and his fingertips skimmed her wet hole. He tasted as bad as he stank but the sharp tang of his blood was already turning Sarah’s head. Rum was so much stronger filtered through an alcoholic. Sarah’s teeth retracted, releasing a splurt of coppery blood. She flicked her tongue against the punctures on the man’s neck, irritating the vessels.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his chest vibrating against Sarah’s. He rammed three fingers into her pussy unceremoniously and hooked his hand against her crotch. The butt of his palm rasped against her throbbing clit.

Sarah pulled away from his throat. “More,” She admonished, and the man obeyed without hesitation. He rubbed her clit with one hand and shirked his pants with the other, exposing himself. He was already hard, a little disappointing in girth but plenty long. Sarah allowed him to prop her leg up on his arm and he thrust into her, grunting. Blood seeped from the wound on his neck, soaking the collar of his work shirt. His name was stitched onto the pocket but Sarah hadn’t bothered to look.

Sarah licked the blood dripping down his throat and latched onto his punctures again. As she sucked he fucked, pounding their hips against the window. Her insides burned but it wasn’t enough; her orgasm flirted just out of reach. Almost as soon as she’d thought it the man reached down between them and slid two fingers into her pussy, skewering her on his hand and cock. She moaned into his throat and he slipped another finger into her hot, sopping hole.

Sarah’s teeth descended again as her climax neared. She writhed her hips onto the stranger’s cock and hand, working her clit against his thumb. She was stuffed full, almost- She was so close-

The man slurped beside her ear then something prodded her backside. The man pulled her closer, deeper, and first one, then two, fingers popped into her tight asshole. She bit down hard on the man’s neck as her pussy spasmed. Hot blood splattered her throat, covering the wild gargling screams she released. The man hollered, his voice echoing down the street, but Sarah was too enthralled in her own ecstasy to notice. She didn’t even notice when her teeth closed, clicking against each other, while she tore straight through the man’s neck. She clutched his still body to her until her orgasm subsided then let his dead weight drop.

Sarah spat torn flesh and gore. Her loose sweater was coated in blood, hanging heavy on her shoulders, and her skirt was hiked over her bare hip. She straightened her clothing, fruitlessly wiped her stained mouth against her forearm, and walked away from the man’s limp body. She wasn’t entirely sure he was dead, but it didn’t matter. The living ones didn’t remember her.

Sarah hadn’t told herself it wouldn’t happen again in a while. There was really no point. One way or another, someone else would wind up inside her and she’d feast again. She had to. It felt too good to stop.

---