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Excerpt
Blood of the Virgin
By
Herbert Grosshans
Virgin blood so sweet and
red.
Drink too much and you may end up dead
She was watching me out of dark, brooding eyes, as she squatted on
the small rock shelf, her black, almost transparent wings enveloping
her nude body like a thin cloak.
“Are all humans this inquisitive?” she asked, her head tilted
slightly to one side. She spoke the common language with a peculiar
accent.
“Some,” I said, smiling. I could see two needle thin fangs between
her full lips gleaming in the failing light of the setting Primary,
her body silhouetted against the Red Companion, the smaller, weaker
sun. She was young, slim, with small, nicely shaped breasts. A black
triangle between her open thighs concealed her sex-organ, but I knew
she was a full-grown female, eager to feed.
I had to be careful because a hungry female, especially one as young
as she, could kill me in her feeding-frenzy. But I wanted her badly,
almost as badly as she wanted me.
Another danger I had to consider…the ones hiding behind the boulders
and the rotten tree stumps. She was the bait. The youngest and the
prettiest one. The others… I didn’t want to think about them.
I looked down at my erection. The enhancer cream I had rubbed into
my groin would give me the endurance to satisfy three of the
females, maybe four. I was hoping there weren’t too many of them. I
wanted the Prince. He wouldn’t make an appearance until he was
absolutely sure the females controlled me.
Her laughter made me look up. She had a beautiful smile, if you
overlooked her long incisors. “You are impatient.” She mocked me
with her laughter. Without warning, she launched herself into the
air, and in an instant she hovered above me.
“Lie down!” she commanded me, her eyes glowing softly in the
twilight. I realized that the primary sun was slowly sinking below
the horizon. Only the red one was still fully visible.
I sank to my knees, moved my discarded pants so my head would rest
on them, careful to keep the small needle gun hidden in their folds.
The ground was sandy and soft, and I stretched out, waiting for her
to straddle me.
From close-up, I noticed that her black pubic hair was sparse,
barely covering her thick mound.
Flapping her great wings slowly, she sank into my lap, hovered for a
moment, then her sex-organ closed over the engorged head of my
penis. I watched her hot sheath swallow it. She felt tight but
slippery, and she took me deep into her belly.
Her wings collapsed, covered us like a dark blanket. As she
stretched out on top of me, she kept snapping her pelvis. I opened
my shirt to expose my chest, and her small breasts flattened against
my naked skin, firm and warm. She caressed my face with her breath.
It smelled sweet, and when she kissed me, I tasted the yarl-berries
she had eaten to keep her breath fresh.
My tongue touched one of her incisors, reminding me to keep up my
guard.
“Tell me when you are ready to spill your seed into me,” she
whispered after breaking the kiss.
I nodded, concentrating on her soft, tight sex-organ. “Will you come
then, too?” I asked her.
She laughed, rotating her hips. I could feel the gentle pulsing of
her vagina-walls. Her lips touched my neck. “I will,” she murmured.
She wanted me to come inside her. She needed my semen to mark me.
After this, she would be able to find me anywhere.
As young as she was, she possessed good control. Her breathing
started to become ragged, and I knew she was fighting the urge.
“When?” she gasped.
“Soon,” I said, taking her slim hips into my hands to steady her
movements.
“Soon,” she repeated, her voice cracking with the effort to control
herself.
I groaned. She gave me pleasure beyond description. The secretions
of her vagina sent me to highs I’d never experienced with a human
woman, or any other female I ever coupled with. My hands moved to
her round buttocks, dug into their firm flesh.
“Come now!” she cried out.
I was ready. The pressure inside me exploded and, with a shout, I
lunged upward. The pleasure became so intense that I barely felt her
incisors puncture my artery. As my penis pulsed inside her clutching
vagina, filling her with my discharge, her mouth began feeding.
When my penis stopped throbbing, she lifted her head and sighed.
“Your blood is sweet,” she whispered. “It makes my head spin.”
I didn’t tell her about the drug I had injected into my bloodstream.
It wouldn’t kill her, but it would make her sleepy and lethargic.
I sensed another presence beside us. The young Yill in my
arms released my member, rose to her feet. She didn’t take to the
air, just stepped aside, the tips of her wings scraping my chest.
Both suns had disappeared, but one of the moons had risen, bathing
the bleak landscape with its pale light.
Another Yill-female stood above me. She looked older; her breasts
sagged on her thin ribcage. Without a word, she sank down, wings
spread behind her, one of them ripped and scarred. This female had
not been flying for quite some time. She relied on the skills of the
young Yill to snare a victim.
Her face was lined but not ugly. Opening her mouth, she displayed
her fangs. They were long and thin, healthy. Feeding for her didn’t
present a problem…yet.
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