Thank God tomorrow Veronica will finally be back from her business trip to Japan — without a doubt the longest two weeks of my life.
Fuck, I’m literally going through withdrawal from her — from her mouth, her pussy, her ass, and above all her blood.
Those endless late-night video calls where she showed herself naked, sprawled on the hotel bed, touching herself and moaning were supposed to ease the longing a bit, but instead they only made things worse, making want to fuck her even more.
I must have missed her just as badly, because she already told that next week she’s taking on vacation for a whole weekend to a very special place — just the two of us.
And when Veronica says it’s a special place... it really is.
Aaaah... I already know that two days of sex from morning till night are waiting for — I can’t wait, I’m insanely hyped!
And with Veronica’s return, this will also be the last night I’ll spend at Naomi’s place — I just hope nothing weird happens. Although, honestly, I think I’ve already seen everything there was to see.
I’ve seen lania getting her pussy licked by Naomi, or masturbating with anything she could get her hands on — shampoo bottles, vegetables, even her own phone. At this point, nothing shocks anymore — I’m ready for the worst!
Or at least... that’s what I thought.
It’s just past three in the morning, and I’ve just gotten ho after a disappointing night at my favorite lounge bar — yeah, even the best sotis co ho empty-handed. I slowly open the front door, careful not to make the slightest noise so I don’t wake anyone. When...
BLEAH!
I try to hold it back, but vomit erupts from my mouth like an unstoppable torrent. Luckily, I have the reflexes to turn in ti and throw up onto the stair landing instead of the entryway carpet. I should clean it up, but honestly that’s the last thing on my mind — tomorrow morning I’ll say I drank a bit too much and take care of everything. Right now is really not the mont.
I stagger out of Naomi’s apartnt, quietly closing the door behind .
Fuck, I feel like I’m suffocating. I need a breath of fresh air imdiately — and that’s exactly what I do. In an instant, I’m back outside the building. I drag myself sluggishly along Manhattan’s main street, crowded as always despite the hour, searching for sothing I don’t even know how to define.
Actually... I know exactly what I really need right now: a massive dose of weed and alcohol to erase that disgusting, revolting image burned into my mind.
lania... was kneeling on the living room floor, her open hands planted firmly on the ground. Her pajama T-shirt was pulled up above her breasts, while her pajama shorts and panties were lowered to her ankles... and Argo, the Naomi’s pitch-black pitbull puppy, was pounding her from behind, propping himself up with his front paws resting on lania’s back.
He was mounting her with an unnatural frenzy, excessive even for an animal, drooling as if he had rabies, while lania kept her hands tightly gripping his hind legs to help him stay upright.
Yet, neither of them made the slightest sound, except for their ragged breathing.
So, that little demonic slut wasn’t joking when she said she was curious about getting fucked by Naomi’s dog.
All of it is truly revolting...
Yet there’s one detail of that disgusting scene that tornts more than anything else — lania’s expression.
I caught it only for an instant before running away in the grip of violent vomiting fits, but I can’t forget that look of pure ecstasy, that twisted, sick pleasure with which she stared at the very mont I stepped into the living room — her tongue hanging out even more than the dog’s, and her pupils almost completely rolled back.
No — I absolutely refuse to believe that any of this can be considered normal, not even for a demon!
That whole story about succubi being naturally dependent on pleasure can in no way justify such filth and deviation!
Sure, I wasn’t ho to satisfy her daily need for sen, but fuck, I’m not the only person in that house with a cock!
Naomi’s father may not be a magazine-cover model, but he’s not completely hopeless either.
He’s tall, decent-looking, and still in reasonably good shape despite being well past fifty. Sure, he’s got a bit of a belly, but I imagine that, seen through a woman’s eyes, he still has so charm.
But even if he were the ugliest man in the world... fuck, it still would’ve been better than getting fucked by a dog!
After all, I strongly doubt that lania is the kind of person who would feel even the slightest hint of guilt about doing sothing like that.
Thoughts like "that man is my uncle — the father of my beloved cousin. I can’t betray my aunt’s trust by fucking her husband" wouldn’t even graze her mind.
So then why? And above all, why do it so openly, knowing I could co ho at any mont?
Did she do it on purpose so I’d see?
Does she think she can make feel guilty by showing what she’s willing to do to fill my absence?
She’s picked the wrong person if she thinks I’d be moved by sothing like that!
That girl truly has no sha at all — she’s the embodint of the most sick, twisted perversion imaginable!
And fuck, she’s only twelve! What the hell will she do when she turns twenty?!
Oh, right... she’ll get impregnated by her father to give birth to more of their kind — so Alex said. And it doesn’t stop there. If lania were to give birth to incubi — the male counterpart of succubi — they would, in turn, impregnate lania, in order to proliferate as much as possible and keep the Narkhalis royal blood pure.
Never in my life have I felt so grateful to whatever god exists for being born a vampire and not an incubus.
I’m almost afraid to think about what will start happening in that house from tomorrow onward, when Veronica finally cos back ho and I won’t be able to spend the nights appeasing that succubus’s insatiable hunger anymore.
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