Joshua’s First

If you’ve been following my vampire series, you may recognise Joshua’s name. You, like me, may also be wondering just who in the hell Joshua actually is. Well, he revealed himself to me tonight, so here’s the first glimpse at mister elusive himself.

It’s not often that I sleep, but when I do, I dream. I wander through the corridors of my long history, peering through cracks in open doors and through keyholes in closed ones, acknowledging my past triumphs and failures before moving on.

But sometimes I come across that door. It’s always open. And behind it is a memory I find irresistible. It’s such a perfect balance of intent and accident, of worst and best mistake ever made, that I’ve never been able to resist giving my sleeping self over to it…

Corrine approaches me slowly, smiling, fiddling with the stone pendant that sits in the hollow at the base of her throat. That I’m a danger doesn’t occur to her, though I know that, if it did, she’d be dancing towards me anyway.

I should tell her to flee this place, to get as far away from me as she can. But as her toes sink into soft sand either side of my thighs, as her grey robe parts and her knees bend, all I can do is groan.

Her cunt is so close to my face. It smells sweet, musky, and tangy with blood. Corrine doesn’t ask why I’m cowering in a cave. I wouldn’t tell her even if she did. How could a man explain that he can’t walk out onto the beach because even the lightest kiss of the sun causes blisters to erupt on his skin?

Sand scrapes my ass cheeks, rock scrapes my back. My toes are perilously close to a shaft of sunlight, but it doesn’t matter. Corrine’s palms are against my palms, her fingers entwined with mine. Holding her up as she lowers herself onto me is easy for me now.

Dizziness blurs my vision when the tip of my cock finds the deepest part of her. She moves slowly, gasping as she rises, moaning when she drops back down. Rocking, twisting, bobbing energetically then stilling because she hears my panting become heavier.

I’m close. She knows I am. To get me there, she bounces fast and hard, leans against me, puts her neck right by my mouth. I don’t want to. I do want to. With a desperation I’ve never known before, I want to taste her.

Oh, my gums ache! My balls ache. They tighten. My gums split. Corrine’s cunt clenches around me. I open my mouth to cry out. My balls spasm, then pump my release into my cock, my cock pours it into Corrine, and my aching gums force my teeth to puncture her soft skin.

Colours burst behind my eyelids. Flavour bursts over my tongue, my heart remembers a rhythm it once knew well. I drink and moan, cry without shedding a single tear. Corrine weakens, sinks down, collapses. I stop coming, stop feeding, when her heart stops beating. A beautiful life ended. By me. And I enjoyed every minute of it.

I wake with a shout, remembering the horror, wonder, contentment, and rage I felt that day. Rose wakes too. Her Shirley Temple curls bob around her shoulders as she climbs into my lap. I feel the heat of her cunt waking my cock, and I shudder. I don’t want this right now, I have to get her thinking about something else.

Extracting myself carefully from her embrace, I make a sharp demand. “Tell me again what Vincent Martel said to you in Black’s.”

**To continue reading this story, click here**


No. 21 – La Vie Est Belle

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