I Call to the Abyss

I was panting and twitching as aftershocks rocked me, when she stood and removed the robe. Before I could grasp what she wanted, she threw a leg over my body and settled onto me. I could feel her heavy breasts pressed to my tummy and her pussy floated over my face. It smelled strongly of musk and I was again jolted to note she was excited. I had always heard vampires weren't sexual creatures, but the thick juices that sparkled on her lips showed she was.

Somewhere between noticing that, and her tongue caressing my clit, my revulsion turned to need. I had to taste her, to see if her pussy was as good as her mouth. I wrapped my arms around her wide hips, locked them at her back and pulled her pussy down to my face. I licked tentatively and then wildly as the flavour filled my mouth. It was thick and heady, a mixture of musk and pulp. I could only compare it to the sweetness of an overripe peach mixed with a musky flavour that mirrored her delicate aroma.

Her lips were soft, silky, incredibly slick as my tongue glided over them, searching out more of her flavour. I was so caught up in it I didn't feel my back arching, or the warning spasms until another orgasm blasted my consciousness.

Her tongue had found my clit. How do you describe it? Ten years of Liva making love to me hasn't given me any better words. It felt as if her tongue were prehensile, a living thing that coiled around the base of my clit and then delicately stroked the tip as it squeezed. Mortal woman was never meant to be subjected to that. Sensation flowed, distorted, overlapped, morphed. Paradoxical feelings vied for recognition by my already overloaded mind. Hard but soft, fast but slow, deep but light, pleasure on a plane I never knew existed, agony on a level no human could endure. And I came.

Orgasm after orgasm, some powerful, some soft, coming so quickly they overlapped, rippled across one another, melded and fed upon each other, until each moment was an exquisite torture.

Liva raised her head and looked back at me. She licked her lips, collecting my juices and then smiled, showing delicate, but long fangs. And then she bit me, her fangs sinking into my femoral artery.

Did I say I had felt pleasure before? A lie. Every earthly sensation I had ever experienced was a lie. A pale shadow of what it could be. As Liva drew my life out, I felt sensation that was utterly consuming; pleasure that blasted my very soul, leaving me no longer the same; life altering sensation that shattered my world, leaving me raw material for her to reshape.

I came back to a new world, my fangs sunk deep in Liva's thigh and drawing blood from her. And drawing pleasure. Liquid pleasure.

We share the nights now, Liva and I. And if I have given up life as I knew it, I have gained much more. Nightly we bring young women to our home and feast upon them, but we do not kill. We take only what we need and send them back to the world they know. All over London there are women now who retain a dreamy memory of pleasure unimaginable. Our gift to those who sustain us with their blood.