I turned the force of mind onto her pathetic little brain and in less than an instant, knew she was mine. Her eyes locked on mine and her body sagged in limp submission. She fell back against her car, grinding her hips against my groin. Though hunger was my driving force, my cock instantly sprang to life and I felt the throb of it pulsating through my core. I leaned in to kiss her and she responded with incredible passion. Grinding her hips against me, she leaned back, arching her back and exposing her throat. Soft and delicate, her throat had a milky white sheen to it in the flickering shadows.
My hand reached out and took her by the chin, I tilted her head back further and without further ado, I sank my teeth into her throat with a soft tearing sound. Blood gushed out of her and ran down my chin. She sagged lower and her body went totally limp. I lowered her to the ground, never releasing my mouth from her throat. She made a gurgling sound that was half pain and half orgasm. Her body convulsed and jerked, the shock of loss of fluid mixed with violent throes of an intense orgasm. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at me.
I love this. Here I am, draining her of her life’s blood, and her reaction is to reach down and grab my cock. She strokes it through my jeans, hands grabbing at me with greed and desire. She is dying and all she can think about is my cock. This is one of the parts of the “hunt” that thrill me to this very day, even after scores of centuries of feeding on these lowly humans. It really is fascinating, if you stop to think about it. Their minds are so tightly wrapped around their ever present sensuality that even in death, they cling to the joy and ecstasy of their sexual desires.
I wish I had the time, or even the inclination, to take this girl off somewhere and let our little dance last awhile longer, to please myself and draw out our little foray awhile longer. The truth is, I just don’t care to. She is a tasty treat. Her blood is good and pure, she is of a fine vintage, but I am not drawn to her. Even with the pleasure of her hand stroking my cock as she looses consciousness and the soft tickle of her blood trickling down my mouth and chin. She is a fine feast, but lacks something that I need in order to ignite the furnace in my soul.
As the light of life fades slowly from her eyes, I leave her there on the street. Before I leave her, I lean over her slender form and kiss her on the forehead, whispering “thank you little one, for the meal and the grope”. A weak smile twitches from the corner of her mouth, even as the light of life dims in her eyes. I seldom stay and watch my quarry pass from this life. I give them time to gather their thoughts, free from the grasp and control of my mind, as they slip into the next phase of their existence. I turn my mind to the coming night’s activities and walk slowly away.