Bon Appétit

"No, please," Jonathan murmured. "She's going to come again. I can't give any more. Please, don't make her take from me again so soon."

I heard Jonathan's words, but I was too lost in my lust to care. She released her bite to scream her banshee like wail as her pussy again squeezed my plunging cock in a pulverizing embrace. "You cunt!" I snarled as I released my bite of her shoulder, but not my embrace, refusing to let her go until her pussy was destroyed by my cock. "I'm going to fucking come again!"

"Oh God, she's taking from me again... she's taking so much from me," Jonathan whispered as he seemed to collapse in on himself and rocked slowly.

"Let go of him, you vampire bitch!" I roared as I splashed into her, my cock throbbing as my cock strained against the crushing embrace of her pussy to fill her with come.

We fought and fucked, my hands gripping her tangle of hair to try to prevent her from sinking her teeth into me. My efforts were futile. Her shriek died as she plunged her teeth into my other shoulder, and I bellowed as the rush of lust from her bite again took me. Roaring like a beast, I fucked her furiously, driving my aching cock into her, no longer caring if she bit me.

After a long moment, I felt the lust slowly drain away. I lay under her in a pool of my own sweat, gasping for breath. She wasn't even breathing hard as she pulled my hands from her hair and rose from my chest. She sat on me, staring at me with my still hard cock inside her. I could see the window and the first tendrils of orange coloring the sky.

With a smile she reached down and caressed my face like a well-loved pet. I was exhausted. Now that she was relinquishing her hold over me, I was crashing, as I crashed ever morning after we finished fucking.

I was still rock hard as she rose, and I gasped as she pulled me from inside her. My cock was an irritated angry red, even more so than normal, but I knew by evening I'd be in fucking form again. She stepped away from me as Jonathan slowly rose to his feet, his color slowly returning to his flesh. She stepped to him and brushed his face as she'd done mine. She then stepped away to watch us, my come leaking out of her to dribble on the floor.

As I lay gasping on the floor, Jonathan first went to the curtains and drew them closed to block out the sun as it rose, before setting the lamp upright in its corner. I knew later he'd prepare The Bitch a bath, change the bed linens, and clean up the mess we'd made on the floor. Finished with the lamp, he crossed the room and held a hand down for me. I took it as he helped me to my feet. I wavered a moment as he steadied me.

"I'm sorry," he murmured as he helped me to the door, The Bitch watching from the bed with her enigmatic smile.

"It's okay," I whispered in reply. "I don't think we can win this fight."

He nodded slowly as he assisted me to my room and into bed.

I was nodding, struggling to stay awake, my cock fully softened and my eyes heavy as he appeared with a heaping tray of eggs, bacon, toast, and a syringe of anabolic steroids. He offered the tray to me and I picked up the large bottle of water and drained it without pause, my mouth as dry as Death Valley and my tongue as rough as sandpaper. He set our breakfast on the small table. With a groan, I slowly made my way to the food. I'd fucked her with passion and intent for nearly five hours straight, and I was feeling it. As bad as summers were, winters, with their long nights, were even worse. Often, after a long winter's night fuckathon, Jonathan had to awaken me when he brought our food.

We ate slowly, saying little other than discussing the difficulty she had breaking the extension cord, and wondering if that was something we could somehow use to our advantage. I knew now that I'd have to defeat her alone, that her hold over Jonathan was too complete for him to resist.

"Thank you," I murmured as I slowly pushed my empty plate away.

"For what?"

"For trying to help," I whispered even softer. Hydrated, fed, and fucked out, I was fading fast.

"Some help," he grunted.

"You didn't help her escape," I mumbled as I rose, stumbling toward my bed, almost too tired to walk. "You beat her..."

"No..." he said as he followed me to the bed with the syringe in his hand.

The needle prick in the morning was easier because I was always so tired from my exertions, and the withdrawal of her influence, that I couldn't think about it. He took my arm, tied it off, and gently inserted the needle into the exposed vein.

"Yes..." I breathed as he withdrew the needle. "For just a moment... when you stopped pulling on my hands and put my cock back into her pussy, you beat her. We still have a chance... we can still escape..."

If he answered, I didn't hear his words as I was already lost in the darkness of sleep.