Vera Vision—Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked


Her body rose off the bed as he spread her legs further apart. His tongue delved deeper into her core, sending her higher than she had ever been. She was in ecstasy. My god, he’s an animal!

Delilah Martin was out with her girlfriends at the bar when the definition of tall, dark, and handsome approached them. He offered to buy them all drinks and, of course, they didn’t refuse. The women surrounded him, wanting to get to know the mystery man. He was charming, intelligent, and beautiful. He had a smile that drew women in. His charm was infectious. His body begged to be explored on a nightly basis. The man immediately took a liking to Delilah. She was cute, spunky, and had a lot of energy to burn. Good, I like that. It’ll come in handy later. The pair would stick like glue for the remainder of the evening. Deciding that it has been too long since she’d had sex, and her man of choice was a nice cool drink on a summer day, Delilah readily accepted his self-invite back to her place. And she was glad she let him in every imaginable position.

He was muscular, incredible, and skilled with his tongue in ways that made her feel as though her body was made just for him. He moved inside her with such voracity, yet he found a way to be gentle. He challenged her to try new things and she stepped up to the plate with ease. She had never felt so alive and emotional in any of her sexual experiences. And her lover that night made her feel like she was on top of the world. For the second time that night, he was generous with his tongue, diving into her heat with a reckless abandon. She thought she was too sore to accommodate him, but ‘no’ wasn’t an option. Pulling her thighs closer to his face, he parted her folds and pleasured her again. While he loved to pleasure women, he also had a serious ulterior motive this night.

Just when Delilah was about to climax, she screamed in pleasure, never noticing that she was slowly dying. His long, white fangs had appeared out of her eyeline, and had sunken deep within the creamy flesh of her thigh until her blood had been sucked dry. Her screams turned into breathless sighs and then she was quiet. He rested his fingers against her throat, her pulse non-existent. Her warm skin was beginning to cool and he knew that he was done with his prey for the evening. Covering her up with the sheets, he closed her eyes. An angel. Perfect for heaven. He finished getting dressed and made sure there were no bloodstains on his face.

With one last glance over his shoulder, he turned to leave. She wasn’t the first nor would she be the last.

*Above model is Jessica Drue; photography is by RobG Photography*