Razorkiss 
(P-M1F1, H-P, E-F1)
An erotic story by Katryna
Last updated 12/17/06 

This adult story is (C) by Katryna. It may be redistributed subject to a few 
provisions but may not be sold or otherwise used for profit and must have this 
heading attached. Please read my legal notice as downloading, redistributing, or 
reading this story signifies your agreement to the terms and conditions outlined 
within it. 

Author's note: This story is based (loosely) on a particularly memorable IRC 
roleplay session. Thanks again for that; you know who you are... :) 

You watch as she stretches on the bed, arching her back slightly, comfortable, 
at ease, and a bit playful. You're reminded a bit of the hunting cats you've 
seen on nature shows; the lazy-predatory demeanor is the same. There's a hint of 
unpolished-silver moonlight and Rigel-blue streetlamp filtering through the 
blinds, and streaks of light play across her form as she slowly turns toward you. 
She smiles softly, her emerald-limestone eyes blinking sleepily. It's strange, 
you reflect, that she never seems to nap except on days when she isn't stressed 
out of her mind. When you'd think she'd need it the least. And now here she is, 
awake, at her favorite time of the not-even-vaguely-day. You wonder sometimes if 
she's a vampire, and where she's hiding the fangs. 

"Sleep all right?" You murmur. She nods slightly, yawning affectedly. Her hair, 
a little beyond shoulder length, shifts a bit as she moves, a few more strands 
falling out of place. Hard to tell, really, as disheveled as it always is. She's 
still in your arms at night, but when she's on her own she turns like a drive 
shaft. 

Her skin, you reflect, almost matches the lamp-moonlight. Almost like a negative 
image of the sky; a landscape of sooth white dotted with brown star clusters, 
and a few crimson or blue nebulas. You can't see much of her, she's in her usual 
tank top and jeans. No bra, you observe; she rarely wears one around the 
apartment. Her feet are likely bare under the covers that are folded back at her 
knees. 

She beckons gently to you. You lean forward, resting one hand on the edge of the 
mattress, and kiss her softly. She strokes your cheek gently, her fingertips 
drifting along your skin and leaving faint tingly trails. You shiver slightly, 
hearing her purring softly as she pulls you to her. You stagger a bit, finally 
losing your balance and collapsing atop her, hearing her half-grunt, half-sigh 
with satisfaction as your weight lands across her stomach, her eyes half-closing. 

You roll off her as quickly as you can, not wanting to crush her. "Is that 
entirely accurate, you wonder? Would it really be"... Then you derail that train 
of thought. Despite the give-and-take she's insisted on since you met her, this 
is one of those times you know to follow her lead. 

She turns towards you, kissing you again, deeply this time. You can feel the 
warmth of her lips mashed to yours, the soft-muscular tip of her tongue pressing 
insistently, worming between both sets and pushing into your mouth. You suck on 
it gently at first as you lift yourself a little on one elbow, wrapping your 
arms around her, feeling her breasts pressing, deforming slightly, against your 
chest, her nipples already half-stiffened. You can feel her heartbeat slowly 
accelerating as you run your hands down her back, feeling her arch into the 
touch. As you hold her against you, you feel yourself warming, stirring... 

Her hands drift along your upper arms, her fingertips alternately tapping and 
pressing, squeezing, kneading your muscles. You shiver again as you feel her 
chest expanding, her breathing speeding to match her heart. Her eyes are closed 
as she probes your mouth with your tongue, and you can hear her soft, muffled 
whimpers of pleasure and need. You run your hands up and down her back, brushing 
along her spine with your fingertips, through the cotton, feeling her arching 
further into the touch, pressing harder against you. 

She disengages, still breathing faster, her skin flushed slightly. She swallows 
hard and licks her lips, her smile fading to a poker face. You look back at her 
intently, head cocked slightly. "Yes?" You whisper. 

She swallows again, looking at the bed, then up to meet your eyes. There's still 
a bit of conflict, of uncertainty, engraved on her features, but you can tell 
her mind is made up. "Tonight," She breathes, almost questioningly. You nod, 
looking deeply, analytically, into her eyes. 

"Are you sure?" You respond. She sits there for a few seconds, then nods slowly. 
"If you're hesitant..." You continue. 

"I want this," She whispers. 

You nod, hugging her close, feeling her limpening a bit in your arms. She's like 
a diamond, you reflect. Or titanium. So strong, yet so fragile... 

She purrs, closing her eyes and kissing you again, her hands running up and down 
your back now as you suck at her tongue. You're still lying on opposites sides, 
facing each other, half-propped up with one another's elbows. You run your 
fingertips down her back and catch the hem of her shirt with your left hand, 
using your feet to slip your shoes off and tossing them beside the bed. She 
purrs, lifting herself slightly as you pull her shirt upwards, slowly revealing 
her stomach and back inch by inch. You admire the litheness of her build as she 
squirms slightly against you. She nips at your nose on the spur of the moment, 
then grins. Her innocent demeanor barely hides her strength; the force her legs 
have exerted around you other nights has actually become frightening. 

You lean around her, kissing softly up her spine as you lift her shirt. She 
gasps with each touch of your lips, and whimpers, squirming, as you tease her 
back a bit with your tongue. As you lick and kiss at her you can feel yourself 
swelling further, your pants rapidly becoming far too tight. You pull back and 
slowly pull her shirt upward, over her head, shivering again as you uncover her 
breasts. "Heaving bosom," the smut books would put it, and she is, admittedly, 
breathing fairly hard. You think you can sense a faint glimmer of perspiration 
along her chest, in the valley between her breasts. Her nipples, medium-rare 
pink, jut from her breasts like RTS perimeter defense buildings. 

You slide the shirt up and over her head, and she pulls her arms out of it. You 
toss it aside, running your hands down her back again, as she begins to unbutton 
your shirt. You lift yourself a little further to make it easier as you press 
your lips to hers once more. Her fingers fumble a bit with the buttons, but she 
gradually gets it open, and you pull your arms out of it, one by one. 

You lick playfully at her nose, and she giggles. She presses herself against you, 
skin to skin now, her nipples gently poking your ribs as she breathes into your 
mouth. Her hands run lower, down your spine, fingertips trilling gently. She 
slides her fingers persistently under your waistband, slowly circling around to 
the front as you close your eyes, purring and enjoying the sensation. She grasps 
you through your pants, purring as she feels your stiffness in her hands, 
enjoying the gentle throbbing of your shaft. You groan, shuddering as she 
massages it through the cotton. 

You grasp her hand lightly and guide it to the zipper. She smiles, quivering 
slightly, noticeably flushed, as she unbuttons your jeans, pulling the zipper 
down. She presses her palm against you through your underwear, purring as she 
feels you straining against her hand. Your eyes are closed, the sensation 
overwhelming you as you breathe harder, leaning forward to kiss her fiercely. 
She grasps you, slowly kneading your shaft with her fingertips, enjoying 
watching your face as you squirm. 

You lift yourself from the bed, and she grasps both waistbands, easing your 
jeans and underwear down at the same time, watching your shaft spring up as she 
frees you. You slide your jeans the rest of the way down your legs, kicking them 
off, then the underwear. She purrs, watching as you stretch for her, naked now 
except for socks. She giggles, reaching down and gently pulling them from your 
feet. 

She grasps your shoulders, pulling you against her, rolling halfway on top of 
you and arching one leg across your pelvis. She moves slowly against you, 
grasping your shaft firmly with one hand as she presses her lips against yours, 
insistently sucking your tongue into her mouth and purring loudly. You feel her 
heart pounding against you as she rolls her hips slowly at first, grinding 
against your hip through her jeans. You laugh between groans, getting the idea, 
reaching down and clumsily undoing her jeans. She half-lifts herself, squirming 
out of them and kicking them off, lowering herself back to the bed. 

You purr, admiring her body, running your fingertips slowly down it. First her 
back, drifting across her buttocks, then, pulling slightly away from her, up her 
sides and along her shoulders. You let your fingers drift gently, teasingly down 
her chest, over the tops of her breasts, before you cup them, purring as you 
feel her nipples pressing insistently against your palms. You knead and massage 
them as she grasps your shaft once more, both of you panting now, whimpering 
with need but driven to make this last. You move your hips slowly at first, 
pressing up into her hand as she gently strokes you. 

You slide your hands from her breasts after a moment, and slowly downward, 
caressing across her stomach, over her hips, down the backs of her thighs, 
grinning as she arches into the touch, gasping at the intensity of the feeling. 
She moans, squirming under your touch, as you caress the backs of her knees, 
then the kneecaps, moving to kiss her deeply. She sucks at your tongue as you 
thrust it eagerly into her mouth, shuddering happily as your fingertips drift up 
her thighs, your palms gently caressing. You let your fingertips drift up and 
around her sex, circling playfully on her smooth, bare mound, with an almost 
undetectable hint of stubble. She whimpers, pushing back against your hands 
insistently. 

You grin, teasing her, moving them up and away. She lifts herself and presses, 
almost slams, back down onto your hand, catching it between her thighs. You gasp, 
purring as your palm presses against her hot, damp folds; whatever apprehension 
her mind might be stumbling on, her body is definitely into this. She moans 
agreeably, grinding against your hand. You caress her softly, your fingertips 
sliding along the outside of her lips. She whimpers, pressing against you, and 
you oblige her, sliding your middle finger gently between them, feeling it 
slicking around in her juices. You feel her tensing slightly as you rub your 
palm against her clitoris through the folds, grinning as you watch her squirming 
in your arms. 

She's breathing harder, the long, ragged breaths of her plateau. She pauses for 
half a second, looking deeply into your eyes, then reached under the pillow, 
pulling out a simple-looking black handle. She presses a button and the 
switchblade activates, the blade springing out with a click and slight metallic 
twang. She swallows, still grinding against your hand, and brings the blade 
slowly downwards as you watch, eyes wide. She lets it rest along her inner thigh, 
swallows again, then presses it downward. 

She draws the blade quickly up her thigh, tensing, clenching her teeth, groaning 
as the knife parts her flesh. She draws it up her thigh, until the new slit ends 
just shy of the one she was born with, quaking above you, eyes closing tight. 
She whimpers longer and loud in pleasure-pain, and you feel her warming, 
throbbing against your hand as she comes. You feel her hot fluids mixing against 
your palm as she dampens further, blood welling from her thigh. 

She keeps rubbing insistently, whimpering, moving the blade to her other thigh 
and quickly slashing it, and again you feel her throbbing against your hand, 
perhaps not so hard this time. She moans, lifting the blade, eying her wrists 
momentarily, then shaking her head slightly to herself. She rests the blade 
against her upper arm, then draws it downward, again parting the skin of her arm, 
coming again against your palm. You wonder about that; is it simple sensory 
overload, one intensive sensation triggering a response to another? Or something 
deeper, more primal? Knowing her, you suspect the latter. 

You glance at her thighs; the blood flowing from them has already dribbled down 
them and is rapidly forming a crimson stain on the mattress. It's not spurting 
and looks darkish; can't be an artery, but there's a lot of it. She must have 
hit a vein. She is breathing hard and fast, eyes half-closed, swaying slightly, 
almost hypnotically as she runs the blade to her other arm and slices it, 
moaning as she throbs against your hand. Her juices, both vaginal and vascular, 
are dribbling down your arm as you caress her, and the red spot on the mattress 
is expanding like a cancerous Silicon Valley suburb. 

She lifts the knife, resting it along her chest, and draws it downward, slicing 
along the top of her breast, screaming and shuddering against you with the 
intensity of her orgasm as the knife bisects her nipple. Blood is flowing down 
her arms, making another stain which quickly merges with the first, and now 
rivulets of red drift down her chest. She moves the blade to above her other 
breast and repeats the motion, slicing her nipple in half and coming powerfully 
again. 

She grasps your shoulder with one hand, the knife in the other, pushing you onto 
your back. She hasn't missed a vein yet, you reflect, staring wide-eyed at her 
bloodslick body, watching her chest heaving with passion. She purrs, half-straddling 
you, then opens her mouth wide. She rests the flat edge of the knife against her 
tongue, licking the blood from one side, moaning. She turns it and licks the 
other side clean, shuddering, then half-turns the blade, licking the edge, 
cutting a slit in her tongue. Blood wells up immediately, and she leans forward, 
kissing you deeply, sharing the salty-meaty taste of her vitality. 

She moves to straddle you, her wounded tongue still dancing with yours, and you 
feel warm blood dribbling onto your stomach and hips. She lowers herself, and 
you moan, closing your eyes as your head slips between her silky folds, sliding 
up and down along her sex, finally finding its mark. Sighing contentedly, she 
slowly begins to lower herself onto you. You moan, tensing a little as she 
closes around you with a lush, steamy deathgrip. It's women like her, you 
reflect, that make the application of the name of Venus appropriate for the 
planet. 

You push up, driving yourself deep into her, watching her arch her head back and 
moan as you come to rest gently, barely brushing her cervix. She leans forward, 
blood running down her chin along with her arms and chest and both your stomachs, 
kissing you deeply. She begins to move, and you press into her, rolling your 
hips opposite hers, squirming and gasping as her soft walls seem to caress you. 
She whimpers with pleasure, leaning forward, angling herself against the base of 
your shaft, rubbing her clitoris against you. 

As she tenses and strains above you, you can feel her weakening slowly. Her 
breathing slows a bit, her eyes seem slightly unfocused. You feel yourself 
warming, pushing up into her, as she leans forward to kiss you fiercely, 
whimpering. Her chest presses lightly to yours, and you can feel her heart 
slackening as the life ebbs from her body. You thrust into her insistently, 
compensating, matching her slowing thrusts. You can feel her tensing above you, 
and the insistent hot tingling and slight tightening between your legs grows to 
match it. You thrust up, faster, her blood coating your entire torso, oozing 
along your arms and legs onto the sheet, dribbling slightly from your mouth as 
you drink greedily from her tongue. 

She whimpers, shuddering, on edge, and then you drive up, hard, lifting her 
slightly off the bed. She goes rigid, suddenly, collapsing atop you, still for a 
moment, her hands resting on your shoulders. Then, suddenly, she tenses, hard, 
shaking, her short fingernails digging painfully into your shoulders, breaking 
the skin, as she gasps chokedly. You'll notice all this in retrospect; for now, 
your entire consciousness in consumed by the squeezing, clenching, throbbing, 
fluttering engulfing your shaft. You feel yourself shudder, hugging her tight to 
you, and groan as you spew into her. 

As her climax winds down, her deathgrip on your shoulders eases, but the velvety 
vice around your slowly limpening shaft remains. She sighs contentedly, 
breathing shallowly, her eyes half-closed and unfocused. You feel her pulse 
throbbing against you, fainter now, slowing rapidly. You feel a few faint throbs, 
two, one, then nothing. She exhales, going limp atop you, and breathes no more. 

You sigh to yourself, holding her tight to you, lying motionless, eyes closed, 
for a while as you soften inside her slowly cooling body. Gradually, your legs 
start to fall asleep and breathing becomes more and more of a strain, and you 
ease her from you, rolling her onto her side. You kiss her bloodstained lips 
gently, positioning her with her thighs together to preserve your final gift to 
her. Wrapping one arm around her, you snuggle up to her body and quickly slip 
into dreams, unsure now and forever how to feel. 