Unsatisfied
It had been such a long time since I had been in the company of a mortal man as I was this night. My heart commanded the encounter forbidden, only disaster would come of this meeting yet my desire and the sheer will of it would not let my body nor the blood lust be.
I had to make us one.
The physical passion he wanted so desperately to endure with me would give me no satisfaction. But the memory alone of the nights I knew what it was like to writhe beneath a man with orgasmic ecstasy filled me with an insatiable taste of sexual lust. I could not help but notice the obvious contrast to our complexion, our texture, our temperature in our nudity. His warmth was comforting while I sensed in him my own bleakness was distracting. He spoke not a word of his discomfort; he hungered for me much too deeply.
And as we curled into a ravenous embrace, not a thought past through his mind that I was of the unnatural, that this night was the last of his existence. He would become the cold.
Slender fingers gripping tight to the roots of his dark tresses, the penatration meant nothing to me while everything to him. Yet, to see the delight, elation is his features, to listen to the sweet, arousing sound of his tone rumbling through his throat in sync with each thrust was insufferable. It returned me to my memories as a mortal, enjoying my own pleasures through intercourse.
And once he was satisfied, once his body gave to a chain of shivers and minor convulsions, the beast inside finally arose, one who wished to quench it's thrist and take no prisoners.
I savored each swallow of his crimson flow until nothing remained, and he lie like the dead upon my flesh.
I remain unsatisfied.
I had to make us one.
The physical passion he wanted so desperately to endure with me would give me no satisfaction. But the memory alone of the nights I knew what it was like to writhe beneath a man with orgasmic ecstasy filled me with an insatiable taste of sexual lust. I could not help but notice the obvious contrast to our complexion, our texture, our temperature in our nudity. His warmth was comforting while I sensed in him my own bleakness was distracting. He spoke not a word of his discomfort; he hungered for me much too deeply.
And as we curled into a ravenous embrace, not a thought past through his mind that I was of the unnatural, that this night was the last of his existence. He would become the cold.
Slender fingers gripping tight to the roots of his dark tresses, the penatration meant nothing to me while everything to him. Yet, to see the delight, elation is his features, to listen to the sweet, arousing sound of his tone rumbling through his throat in sync with each thrust was insufferable. It returned me to my memories as a mortal, enjoying my own pleasures through intercourse.
And once he was satisfied, once his body gave to a chain of shivers and minor convulsions, the beast inside finally arose, one who wished to quench it's thrist and take no prisoners.
I savored each swallow of his crimson flow until nothing remained, and he lie like the dead upon my flesh.
I remain unsatisfied.