"Night Child"

      by Night Writer

I first saw you in shadows, hiding from the light, surrendering brief glimpses of ivory skin beneath wisps of dancing hair.

Standing against him, your body betrays you, not clinging but wanting, not begging but needing. Urgent eyes darting, at him, then down, sure of what you want, unsure of who can give it.

He turns away, melting into the crowd. Did he understand? Would he ever? Would anyone?

You turn to look at me, suddenly, knowing that I watch you, but seeing only night, sure that I was there only a second ago. I see smooth expanses of translucent skin, following the plane of a perfect cheek, then down, to the supple neck and velvet shoulder below. From this distance, I feel the warm pulsing, increasing, faster and faster, as you search for me with your dark eyes.

How many times have you failed? How many have accused you, wrongly? How often have you repeated the mistakes others never make? How many lovers gone, knowing they could never stay, at least not for long? How many hours, weeks, years, have you befriended the pain that has become a part of you? How often have you begged to be free of the agony that is your life?

But I know all these things. They empty into me as your eyes peer through strands of corn silk, seeking me out in the shifting blackness.

Now behind you, close enough to inhale the scent escaping through the fragile covering of your warm flesh, I open myself to you and you turn again, surprised at my presence, so close, so knowing.

You want to do it. I only have to push a little, suggesting with a look. Your fingers work the row of buttons free, then shrug the blouse from your thin shoulders. Loose, quivering breasts under bone-white collarbones glow in the pale light of the full moon.

Stepping closer, you offer your mouth, then the contours of your graceful neck, surrendering yourself as your eyes close, waiting.

Driven by a hunger I no longer control, I'm tasting you, salty, soft surfaces, yielding under my tongue and mouth. Fleshy breasts, then shoulders, then my destination, that long curve that courses with your lifeblood. Savoring the flavor of your fear and abandon, I pause. Then, feeling the urgency of your submission, I feast.

My thirst has conquered me. Small things make it so; the tiny pop when I breach the skin, the salty warmth that flows, suddenly at first, then evenly as I coax it from your body. My pulse pounds, almost unbearably, as I drink, your white body shuddering against me.

You smile a little as you stare vacantly into the darkness, then a low moan as your limp body trembles; finally, a quiet sigh as you let go of your pain, chasing it into the shadows around us.

No more failures, mistakes, or lost love. An eternity to make new alliances, not with pain, but with strength and opportunity. Now, not a discarded soul, but a child of the night.

- The End -

[Note: this story is protected by international copyright law,
all rights not expressly waived are reserved by its author.]

________________________________________

______________________

Back to Night Writer's Sex Stories Index Page

_______________

Back to Main Stories Index Page

______________

Go to the top of this page

Other QUALITY Story & Sex Sites You'll Enjoy
Interracial Stories Sex & Submission Bondage Stories Lesbian Stories	Porn Stories Orgy Stories Slutty Wife Sex Teen Stories	Taboo Stories Huge Cock Sex Fucking Machines Gay Sex Stories