Read Online On the Far Side of Darkness by R. C. Graham - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: R. C. Graham
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my digit. Her moan becomes syncopated with sharp gasps. Diane’s heated odor grows more intense.
I add a second finger and my pumps increase in speed. Diane’s moan rises in volume, nears a wail. “Ah!” she huffs, “God! Please!” Her skin heats, I can feel its glow on my own.
My fingers rotate in her, press hard against the spongy spot on the ceiling of her channel. Her body stiffens and she gurgles, moments away from ecstasy.
I cover her stiff clit with my mouth. A little suction and I pull the little bud in, lap at it softly and rapidly. Diane falls away from the world as I do.
A loud stutter rushes from her lungs. Her hips blur back and forth, driving my fingers in and out. She clamps on them, her joy demanding I stay inside her. Her skin colors and sweat runs over her.
Diane’s climax fades but doesn’t draw back far. My thumb replaces my tongue and tickles softly. She sounds an “Oh!”, pauses to gasp, another “Oh!” and she’s gone again. She keens her pleasure and shivers with an ague of ecstasy.
While she’s distracted, I place my mouth on her right thigh, drop my fangs and puncture her femoral artery.
This is my climax. The rich taste of her blood runs into my mouth and my awareness is almost lost under it. The rush of life fills me with an abandoned glee. Nothing tasted as delicious when I was alive.
Adding even more to it is the fact that I care deeply for this woman, and she cares for me. It adds an exponent of elation I’ve not tasted in far too long.
That joy radiates out from me and into Diane. It slams into her orgasm, pumps it up into a bright flame that blanks out her mind. She grows stiff as a board. Every few seconds she twitches and a tiny click sounds from her throat. I’ve taken her far from the physical world.
I pull my mouth from her with a quiet hiss. I’ve had enough. What I am wants it all but I’m full. I don’t feed until death. I’m forced to drink, not to kill. Pain shimmers through me as I recall the times I did kill. I don’t like being a monster
Diane relaxes, her bliss releasing her. Before she can notice, I lick my punctures and they vanish as if they never existed.
I move myself next to her then lean in to kiss her cheek, swipe at the salt liquid slicked there. Pulling back, I watch her, one hand gently petting her stomach, calling her back to reality. Her face is blank and her chest heaves.
Again I feel astonishment that I’m here with her close, in more ways than one. I don’t want to but I wallow in the sensation. Once more, I almost feel like a man again.
My attention reverts to the here and now. Slowly, so slowly, awareness returns to my lady and her breathing becomes normal. I lie on my back and Diane rolls to her side. She lays her left leg and arm across me then cuddles close. “God,” she sighs, “I never thought a man could make me feel this way.”
I’m not a man is the response I don’t voice. She can’t see it but my mouth forms a grim line. I know the moment when I must bid her goodbye is close.
Diane’s grip on me tightens. “Georges?” she asks. “Stay with me.” The tone of her voice is a touch strained. That is always a hard question to ask, when the answer is important.
“Tonight?” I question back. I try, without much success, to make the words light.
“Always,” is her reply.
How I wish we could have had longer. It’s my turn to tighten my hold as a memory that I’ve kept away from bobs to the surface.
This happened once before, a century and a half ago. A woman I knew grew close and asked to stay. She had to know the truth before I could make that decision, so I told her what I am, and I told her we could only stay together if we were the same. She accepted and I made her into one of my kind.
In a month, she waited for the sun to come up.
She hadn’t realized, nor had I, that she would lose too much. Lose the day, lose the warmth, lose the joy. Furthermore the gains didn’t balance the losses. She
I add a second finger and my pumps increase in speed. Diane’s moan rises in volume, nears a wail. “Ah!” she huffs, “God! Please!” Her skin heats, I can feel its glow on my own.
My fingers rotate in her, press hard against the spongy spot on the ceiling of her channel. Her body stiffens and she gurgles, moments away from ecstasy.
I cover her stiff clit with my mouth. A little suction and I pull the little bud in, lap at it softly and rapidly. Diane falls away from the world as I do.
A loud stutter rushes from her lungs. Her hips blur back and forth, driving my fingers in and out. She clamps on them, her joy demanding I stay inside her. Her skin colors and sweat runs over her.
Diane’s climax fades but doesn’t draw back far. My thumb replaces my tongue and tickles softly. She sounds an “Oh!”, pauses to gasp, another “Oh!” and she’s gone again. She keens her pleasure and shivers with an ague of ecstasy.
While she’s distracted, I place my mouth on her right thigh, drop my fangs and puncture her femoral artery.
This is my climax. The rich taste of her blood runs into my mouth and my awareness is almost lost under it. The rush of life fills me with an abandoned glee. Nothing tasted as delicious when I was alive.
Adding even more to it is the fact that I care deeply for this woman, and she cares for me. It adds an exponent of elation I’ve not tasted in far too long.
That joy radiates out from me and into Diane. It slams into her orgasm, pumps it up into a bright flame that blanks out her mind. She grows stiff as a board. Every few seconds she twitches and a tiny click sounds from her throat. I’ve taken her far from the physical world.
I pull my mouth from her with a quiet hiss. I’ve had enough. What I am wants it all but I’m full. I don’t feed until death. I’m forced to drink, not to kill. Pain shimmers through me as I recall the times I did kill. I don’t like being a monster
Diane relaxes, her bliss releasing her. Before she can notice, I lick my punctures and they vanish as if they never existed.
I move myself next to her then lean in to kiss her cheek, swipe at the salt liquid slicked there. Pulling back, I watch her, one hand gently petting her stomach, calling her back to reality. Her face is blank and her chest heaves.
Again I feel astonishment that I’m here with her close, in more ways than one. I don’t want to but I wallow in the sensation. Once more, I almost feel like a man again.
My attention reverts to the here and now. Slowly, so slowly, awareness returns to my lady and her breathing becomes normal. I lie on my back and Diane rolls to her side. She lays her left leg and arm across me then cuddles close. “God,” she sighs, “I never thought a man could make me feel this way.”
I’m not a man is the response I don’t voice. She can’t see it but my mouth forms a grim line. I know the moment when I must bid her goodbye is close.
Diane’s grip on me tightens. “Georges?” she asks. “Stay with me.” The tone of her voice is a touch strained. That is always a hard question to ask, when the answer is important.
“Tonight?” I question back. I try, without much success, to make the words light.
“Always,” is her reply.
How I wish we could have had longer. It’s my turn to tighten my hold as a memory that I’ve kept away from bobs to the surface.
This happened once before, a century and a half ago. A woman I knew grew close and asked to stay. She had to know the truth before I could make that decision, so I told her what I am, and I told her we could only stay together if we were the same. She accepted and I made her into one of my kind.
In a month, she waited for the sun to come up.
She hadn’t realized, nor had I, that she would lose too much. Lose the day, lose the warmth, lose the joy. Furthermore the gains didn’t balance the losses. She
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