Blood Sucking Vampires Erotic Horror


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“What is this?” the creature exclaimed. It had sunk its fangs into the neck of a delirious victim and taken a long draw. “In my two hundred years on this planet, I’ve never tasted blood as delicious as this!”

His host, a fellow ancient vampire, laughed, and said, “Cornelius, you need to get out more. We have perfected a system that elevates even type O, the lowest quality human blood, to something extraordinary.”

“Tell me how you do it?”

Percival chuckled, and said, “If I did, I’d have to kill you and I don’t know where I’d find a stake large enough!”

^^^

Tom parked the commercial van on the residential street. He went around to the back, opened a door, and killed time. He pretended to gather the tools a cable repair man would need.

He wasn’t a cable guy. He was dressed like one in jeans, a hardhat, work boots, and a bright yellow safety vest. He was, in fact, a private investigator.

He was working a case. Nothing exciting or important. The client suspected his wife was unfaithful. He wanted solid proof before confronting her. He wanted embarrassing incriminating pictures that would prove he was the aggrieved party. He was hoping to avoid paying alimony and losing the house.

A blue Volvo sedan pulled into the driveway of the house across the street. Tom glanced at the license plate and said, “That’s the car.”

A big breasted blonde wearing stiletto heels exited the car. Tom said, “That’s the target.”

He snapped a still of her shaking her ass and walking up to the door. She rang the bell. A man answered. Tom couldn’t hear their conversation. They greeted each other with a facesucking kiss. Tom immortalized their meeting with a photo.

The woman went inside.

Tom put on his tool belt and crossed the street. He said to himself, “The intel about them meeting on Tuesdays at two was correct. Let’s see if their next stop is the bedroom.”

He put cleats on his boots and climbed a utility pole. He had scoped the area out earlier. From the pole, he would have a good view into the master bedroom. He waited.

A few minutes later, the cheating wife and her lover appeared. Tom took photos of them while they kissed and stripped. When they were naked the man groped her ass and tried to swallow a breast.

“Buddy, you’ll never get all that in your mouth. This girl has big ones.”

He took more when the target got on her knees and sucked her paramour’s penis. Tom chuckled, and thought, “This must be real love. She’s not with him for his equipment. That’s a small dick.”

The couple got into bed and fooled around. Tom memorialized it. He looked hard into the telephoto lens and said, “I see something shiny.” He adjusted the longdistance focus, laughed, and said, “She has a plug in her ass! Ha!”

He took many pictures of them fornicating. When they were doing it doggie style, Tom rubbed the erection in his pants and thought, “Blondie, isn’t a true blonde. She has dark pubes. She also has a nice butt. That reminds me, I need to call Wendy and make an appointment to poke her.”

Tom climbed down the pole, returned to the van, and stored his gear.

His phone rang. He answered it and said, “What’s up, Jordan?” She was his twentyfouryearold niece and coworker.

“Tom!” she shouted.

His niece and nephew called him Tom. The family had learned that shouting ‘Uncle Tom!’ in public spaces wasn’t a good idea.

“I need you to meet me at Fourth and Fergusson. I saw a bounty guy! Hurry.”

The Feds, states, cities, and private citizens promised cash payments for information that leads to the conviction of wanted criminals. Tom took it an extra step. He would apprehend the criminals and turn them over to the police. The reward money was a useful windfall that kept their business going.

“I’m on my way,” Tom said. He opened the gun safe in the back of the van, got his Glock, and loaded it. He hurriedly drove ten blocks, saw his niece’s Rav4, parked near it, and got in.

Jordan looked scared which was understandable. She didn’t confront criminals. Her job was to answer phones and do background checks. Tom was focused. He had spent twenty years in the military, mainly in the United States Army Special Forces. He did field work, and bad guys didn’t scare him.

He didn’t chastise her for following a felon. There’d be time for that later. He asked, “Who did you see?”

Jordan showed him a picture on her phone, and said, “Smitty Blackstone.”

The bounty on this thug was $50,000. He was wanted for a series of bank robberies. The reason the amount was so high was because on his last heist, he pistol whipped a female bank teller, sending her to the hospital.

“Where is he?”

She pointed, and said, “He’s in that abandoned building. I saw him in an alley by the projects, buying drugs, and I followed him here.”

Tom frowned, showing his displeasure.

“I know you think I should steer clear of the bad parts of town, but business has been slow. If I can spot a bounty, it’ll cover our rent and payroll. Smitty is worth a tidy sum. Do you think you can handle him by yourself?”

Tom nodded, and said to himself, “I’ll have to. If we call the cops, they’ll arrest him and find some excuse to screw us out of the reward.”

“Be careful,” his niece said.

“Always,” Tom said. He pulled out his gun, checked that it was loaded, and he got out of the car. He said, “Lock the doors and stay in the car.” Jordan nodded.

Tom stealthily entered the building. He was careful where he stepped, not because he was worried that he’d twist an ankle, he didn’t want to make any noise that could alert Smitty.

Tom peeked through the doorway. He saw his target holding a lighter under a spoonful of heroin. Tom thought, “This is a good time to approach him. He’s unarmed and distracted.”

Tom crept in silently. He kept a sharp eye on his prey.

The lighter flicked off. Smitty put it on the ground and reached for his syringe.

“Don’t move!” Tom shouted. “I have a gun on you.”

Smitty paused and looked at Tom. He saw a gun pointed at him. He gave a smug smile and said, “All right. Stay calm. You have the drop on me. You don’t look like a cop.”

“I’m not. I’m a private eye and I’m a damn good shot. Don’t do anything foolish.”

“I won’t. Do you want me on my knees or on the floor?”

“Kneel and I’ll cuff you.”

Smitty lowered his body and knelt. He dropped the spoon. It clattered on the concrete floor. Using that as a distraction, Smitty grabbed his gun and pointed it toward Tom.

Tom calmly fired before Smitty was ready to shoot. The bullet struck the bank robber in the forehead between his eyes. He died instantly and fell over.

Tom went to him, confirmed he was dead, and located his gun. He said, “Smitty, you rolled the dice, going for your gun, and you lost. This was a clean shooting, but some might not believe my . Let’s make a more convincing tale that reinforces the notion that you’re a scumbag and I’m the good guy.”

Tom pulled a latex glove out of his pocket. He put it on and used that hand to pick up Smitty’s handgun. He pressed the criminal’s right hand on the gun’s handle, and he aimed it at a wooden column near where Tom had been standing. He pushed Smitty’s finger and made him pull the trigger. There was a loud bang and a bullet struck the support column slightly above where Tom’s head would have been.

He let go of Smitty’s hand and let it and the gun fall to the floor. He said, “Thank you, Smitty. Now my simple that you fired at me and I returned fire is backed up by evidence. Each gun has been discharged once. We both have gun powder residue on our hands. Your fingerprints are on your trigger, and the police will dig out a bullet fired in my direction.”

Tom removed the glove and shoved it into his left sock. He went outside and waved to Jordan. She got out of the car and ran to him. She embraced him and said, “I was worried. I heard gunshots.”

Her body felt good against him. The females in her family were attractive and wellendowed. He felt her large soft bosom press against his chest.

He put his arms around her and said, “I’m fine. Smitty is dead. How many gunshots did you hear?”

“Two.”

“That’s right. The police will question you. Tell them the truth. You spotted a bounty, called me, and I went in to apprehend him. You heard two shots. That’s all you know. Don’t discuss the gap, the time between the shots. Just say ‘I heard two shots and saw my uncle come out of the building’.

Tom gave her a sincere look and said, “I gave Smitty a chance to surrender. Instead, he shot at me. I returned fire and killed him.”

They stepped apart. Tom called the police. He asked for homicide and told his . He ended it saying, “There’s no need for lights or sirens. The criminal is dead. No one else was injured.”

The whole crew showed up. Tom and Jordan were interviewed. The police took Tom’s gun. A detective and the forensic team examined the crime scene. All the evidence supported Tom’s testimony.

The police Lieutenant said, “Tom, you’re free to go. As things stand the evidence backs up your version of the events.”

“That’s because I’m telling the truth.”

“Yeah. Yeah. The only thing that bothers me is this is the fifth time a criminal with a bounty on his head has engaged you in a gun fight and died.”

“What can I say, Lieutenant. The Green Berets trained me well.”

The police were done with Tom by six o’clock. He called Wendy.

^^^

Tom and Wendy had gone to high school together. He was a star football and baseball player. She wasn’t particularly popular. She was known as that quirky girl.

She didn’t belong to any clique because she had a wide range of interests. She was friends with anyone who shared her interests into art, music, anthropology, sociology, mysticism, geology, origami, etc.

She didn’t date a lot and seemed okay with it. Unlike most of the other girls in school her focus wasn’t boys. She went to the prom with some girlfriends. She met a boy at an after prom party. He was nice. She was eighteen and ready to learn more about so she slept with him.

She got more of an education than she bargained for. She got pregnant. By the time she realized it, that guy was gone. He’d enlisted in the army.

With her mother’s help, Wendy raised the kid. It was difficult. A girl with just a high school diploma doesn’t earn that much. She worked two or three jobs.

One of her jobs was as the shampoo/pedicure/manicure girl. She met a flashy woman without a wedding band who obviously had money. They got to talking.

Wendy: “Are you married?”

Woman: “Hell, no!”

Wendy: “What do you do for a living?”

Woman: “I lie on my back.”

Wendy was confused. It showed on her face. The woman laughed kindly and said, “I never liked school. I didn’t get good grades. I quit in the middle of my senior year. I said, ‘Ellie, you like fancy clothes and nice things. Daddy isn’t going to support you no more. How are you going to earn a living?’

“I’ve got a rocking body. Boys like me and I like boys. The answer was obvious. The only way this high school dropout was going to earn the kind money she wanted was by becoming a prostitute.”

The shocked look on Wendy’s face made the whore laugh. She gently confronted Wendy. “Is this job fun? Are you earning enough to meet your needs? Would you like to have more free time for family and friends?”

Wendy nodded.

The woman said, “You’re pretty enough. You’re friendly. You have a good body. It could use some toning. Do you like men? Do you like ? Would you like to take home twotofour thousand dollars a week?”

“A week!”

“Yes. Not right away. But once you get in shape and build up a clientele. There’s no reason you can’t.”

“Will you show me how?”

“Yes. Not for free. Time is money. I’ll take a percent of what you earn until you learn the ropes.”

^^^

Wendy quit her part time jobs. She went to the gym everyday. She did yoga. She got into incredible shape: a flat stomach, perky breasts, and the world’s best yoga butt.

She learned the rules and the tricks of the trade. If her mentor said it once she said it a thousand times, ‘Get the money up front!’

Her friends and acquaintances commented on how great she looked, how much better she dressed, and how relaxed she was. Wendy smiled and said, “I have a new job. I’m in customer service.”

She told her closest friends the truth.

“I’m a prostitute. My life is so much easier. The hours and money are better. I’ve always enjoyed . I don’t sleep with everyone. I reject the creepy ones.

“My philosophy is similar to Scott Baio’s. He claimed he slept with Pamela Anderson, Denise Richards, Heather Locklear and many Playboy playmates. Some nights he said that he’d ‘go ugly earlier’ because he didn’t want to spend all night chasing the pretty ones.

“He admitted to Howard Stern that he was okay with banged less attractive women. It was his way of giving back.”

Wendy laughed and said, “I have with unattractive men as long as they’re clean and nice. I’m in this for the money, and less face it, good looking men don’t have to pay for it.”

^^^

Wendy answered her phone and said, “Hi, lover.”

“Hello,” Tom responded. “I’ve been thinking about you. Can we get together?”

“Sure. When were you thinking?”

“Can you work me in tonight?”

She laughed, and said, “Pick up some Chinese take out. I can be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Great. See you soon.”

Wendy went into the bathroom, shrugged off her robe, and adjusted the water temperature. She sat on the edge of the tub and washed the last client’s cum out of her vagina with the hand held sprayer. She fluffed her hair, sprayed on some perfume, and touched up her makeup.

She said, “I need some lipstick.” She chuckled and added, “Cause I left some on Bert’s dipstick.”

She donned her silk kimono, grabbed the New York Times, and read the financial section while waiting for Tom.

Her doorbell rang. She greeted warmly with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Wendy operated like the prostitute Julia Roberts played in the moviePretty Woman. Neither kissed their johns on the mouth.

Tom knew this and accepted this limitation. Wendy had explained it to him the first time that they were together. She had said, ‘I do everything, but kiss on the lips. When you allow men unlimited access to your body, you can feel like there’s nothing private. Nothing left of you to share with someone you want to be truly intimate with.

‘I’ll happily suck your dick and let you fuck my pussy and ass, but don’t try to kiss me on the lips. I’ll probably stab you.’

Tom had responded, ‘Understood’. He abided by the fortyfouryearold’s rule.

She took the bag from Tom and plated the food. Tom placed an envelope with cash on the counter. Wendy noticed, and said, “Thank you.” They sat at the kitchen table, ate, drank beer, talked, and laughed.

When they were done, they left everything on the table and adjourned to the bedroom. The robe fell from her shoulders. Tom smiled as he took in the view. Wendy didn’t have a beautiful face, but she had a killer body. Her breasts weren’t large, but they were nicely shaped and her nipples were large and sensuous looking.

Her waist and hips were trim. Her legs were shapely. She usually had a patch of pubes on her mons. Today, it was shaved to look like a martini glass.

And then, there was her butt. It was perfect. A toned, sculpted masterpiece. It was tight, firm, plump, rounded, and high.

Some of Wendy’s clients like to tell her exactly what to do. Others liked her to be in charge; some to the point that she was a dominatrix. Some liked a girlfriend experience with cuddling and soft caresses.

She was down with anything. They could say they loved her or call her a slut, bitch, or whore as long as they abided by the no kissing rules and they didn’t physically hurt her.

Tom was a simple man with simple tastes. He would enjoy her breasts, have her suck his dick, and then, fuck her. They’d finish in a position where he could see her butt: doggystyle or reverse cowgirl.

By finish, I mean he’d cum. Usually she did too. As she explained it to him one day, ‘I like . If I get the right amount of stimulation, I will orgasm. If I don’t, I don’t. If my enjoyment is important to the client, I’ll fake it. Most don’t care. They are paying me to get their rocks off, and whether I climax is immaterial.”

Wendy ran her fingers through Tom’s thick hair as he fondled her breasts and sucked on her nipples. He loved her boobs. Most men enjoyed them.

She wondered why. She didn’t have spectacular breasts. She did some research.

She looked at the most current research. It postulated that it was the product of an unconscious evolutionary drive to ensure the survival of species. Since it’s critical that mothers feed their babies, the process has been made pleasurable for women and their babies.

“What’s in it for a grown man?” Wendy wondered.

The research paper said when babies suck on their mother’s nipple, hormones are released in the woman that let down her milk and the woman feels pleasure. During breastfeeding, other hormones cause the mother and child bond. The infant becomes the most important thing in the world to the woman and the breast the paramount thing in the child’s universe.

So why do adults mimic this behavior? The research showed that each party enjoys the closeness and the skin to skin contact. The lovers experience the same comfort and bonding feelings as mothers and babies do because the action causes the same hormones to be injected into the bloodstream of the adult partners.

It’s a quirk of human uality that lovers can exploit! Tom and Wendy experienced joy because the ‘bonding’ and ‘pleasure’ hormones were dumped into their blood.

Some scientists wonder if the action and presents of the hormones, remind the brain of when they were the breastfeeding infant, or, in Wendy’s case, when she breastfeed her child.

Tom was unaware of the thesis. All he knew was any nipple was a bullseye that instantly attracted his attention and he had a deep desire to suck on it.

After Tom enjoyed her breasts, he cautiously went down on her. He was cognizant that she had many lovers. He had no interest in tasting their spunk. He was reassured because she looked and smelled clean. He tongued her twat for his pleasure and hers.

He was hungrier than usual, and did not stop until he made her orgasm.

“OH!” she hollered. Her body writhed, her eyes closed, and she focused on the pleasure inside her.

Tom watched and waited.

Her eyes opened, she smiled, and said, “Thanks. That was a good one.”

He mounted her. They groaned appreciatively as his cock slid into her slick hole. She flexed her inner muscles and grabbed his shaft.

“Fuck! What a grip!”

She chuckled, and said, “I’m a whore. I’m sensitive to the fact that people assume a ‘loose’ woman has a ‘loose vagina’. I do kegels daily to make sure I have the tightest snatch in town.”

They laughed and fucked. Eventually, Tom guided her to her hands and knees and he drilled her from behind. They huffed and grunted. Tom said, “You have a fantastic ass. Someday we’ll have to do anal.”

“You wont like it.”

“Why not?”

“First, it costs more to cover the extra prep work required on my part and there’s an upcharge because you have a thick dick. And, as hot as you think it’d be, it’s not as much fun as you imagine. My vagina was made for . Unlike my bum, it’s selflubing and is a warm wonderful place.

“All things considered, you’re getting the best piece of me when we have vaginal .”

They resumed screwing with intensity. They focused on pleasure.

“OH!” Tom yelled as he came.

“Don’t go soft!” Wendy shouted. Of course, Tom began losing his erection as he ejaculated. Wendy frantically diddle her clit and achieved a climax.

They lay exhausted in the bed focusing on the fiery feeling that flowed throughout their bodies.

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