The crypt door groaned like it knew what we were about to do. I stepped inside first, candle in one shaking hand, velvet cloak slipping from my shoulders. Moonlight sliced through cracked stone and painted silver across my naked thighs; the air smelled of old incense and fresh wet pussy.
We Both Wanted To Quench Our Thirst
He waited in the darkest corner, coat blacker than the grave, eyes glowing crimson. A pussy-eating vampire starved for centuries, fangs aching not for blood but for slick, hot folds. My cunt clenched the second his gaze landed on it.
“Come taste living girl, leech-boy,” I taunted, sinking onto the velvet-draped coffin. Knees spread wide, candlelight flickered over glistening lips already dripping with anticipation. “Prove those legends true.”
He crossed the room in a blink, coat tails whipping like bat wings. Cold marble bit my ass as he dropped to his knees, iron-strong hands clamping my ankles. A low growl vibrated through the crypt when he inhaled the scent of soaked cunt; his pupils dilated until crimson drowned in black.
“Sweet… mortal… nectar,” he hissed, forked tongue sliding over one sharp canine. “No blood tonight. Just your cum on my undead face.”
How Good Is A Pussy-Eating Vampire?
My breath hitched. The first slow lick was glacier-cold, sending shivers racing up my spine. He traced the seam of my pussy bottom to top, flattening that demonic tongue to gather every drop. My hips jerked involuntarily; a throaty chuckle rumbled against my clit.
“More,” I begged, fingers tangling in his midnight hair. “Drink me like communion, vampire.”
He feasted. No teasing, no mercy. That immortal mouth latched over my aching cunt, suction ruthless, tongue plunging deep then swirling circles around my swollen pearl. Every flick was practiced centuries; every curl inside my hole felt like he fingered my soul.
Stone walls echoed sloppy, wet sounds: his growls, my whimpers, the lewd slurp of pussy juice coating his chin. Cold fangs scraped sensitive lips—not piercing, just threatening, keeping me on a razor between fear and frenzy. Kylee’s thighs trembled; heat coiled tighter in my core.
“Fuck, your tongue’s so long,” I moaned, arching as he wriggled it deeper, tasting places no mortal mouth could reach. “Right there… oh god, right THERE!”
He snarled approval, nose grinding my clit while that impossibly nimble tongue fluttered against my g-spot like a hummingbird. My heels drummed on his back. Candlelight blurred. The crypt smelled of raw sex, ancient stone drinking in my steam.
He Feasted Again And Again
My orgasm built like a storm over Transylvania. Breath fractured into sobs, pussy clenching around his buried tongue. “Make me explode on your face, vampire. Do it, make me fucking gush!”
With supernatural speed he added two ice-cold fingers, crooking them, pumping in perfect rhythm to his tongue-lashing. A starburst ignited behind my eyes. My scream ricocheted off vaulted ceilings as cunt convulsed, juices flooding his mouth in hot, filthy spurts.
He drank every pulse, moaning like a demon. When the final shudder wracked me, he pulled back just enough to let viscous cream drip down his chin. Crimson eyes locked on mine, he licked his lips slow, savoring mortal nectar like rare wine.
“Delicious,” he rasped, voice soaked with lust. “But sunrise nears, Kylee. Shall we seal your veins… or your thighs again?”
I grabbed his collar, yanked his face to mine, tasting my own cum on his cold lips. “Thighs. Again. And again. Until stone cracks and the cemetery moans with me.”
A fanged grin sliced the dark. He flipped me onto all fours atop the coffin, icy palms spreading my ass. Crypt air kissed twitching, swollen pussy. Without warning his tongue speared back inside, deeper, rougher, lapping my release while fresh arousal pooled.
I’ll Haunt You
I buried screams in velvet, hips rocking, meeting every thrust of that ageless mouth. Another climax loomed, threatening to split me open. “Need your fangs,” I gasped. “Mark my cunt while you eat it.”
He snarled, pricking my outer lip just enough for a taste. The metallic tang mixed with syrupy juices drove him rabid. Mouth worked harder, faster; suction turned voracious. My second orgasm detonated harder than the first, squirting clear across his face, splattering ancient stone.
The vampire groaned, rubbing my hot cream into his pale skin like war paint. Finally he rose, towering, cock obviously granite beneath leather. But tonight was for my pleasure alone; he promised with a dark kiss.
“Return tomorrow, little mortal,” he whispered, fangs grazing my ear. “The crypt will open only for your cunt.”
I collapsed, pussy still pulsing, heart hammering louder than any church bell. Somewhere outside, howles of approval echoed in the wind. Inside, the pussy-eating vampire licked his fingers clean, eyes never leaving the trembling mess he’d made of me.
And now: every full moon, this girl would haunt his tomb… if only to haunt his tongue.
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Kylee
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