"A Gay Vampire's Story, Part One" by Jay Roberts Gay Sci Fi/Fantasy
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and find out, but only if you are over 18 years of age.
You out there, you probably have the usual misconceptions about my group. First of all we don't necessarily kill people. Most of us, me included, take a long quaff and leave the rest.
We are not the same age forever. The same age, you thought, from when we were first say inoculated by a vampire. Actually we do age, about one year each century. Since I was vampirized in 1850 at eighteen, I am now about one year plus older, but people say I look months younger.
When you become one of the undead you also gain a lot in appearance. My body became sleek and muscled. I look like a Greyhound, the dog, not the bus. My hair is shiny black, like all my fellows, and I have that gorgeous widow's peak in front. I'll never lose my hair either.
Now I must tell you that before encountering Max, the gay Russian vampire, I was an eighteen year old straight kid. But his long sexy drinking my blood from my left upper leg left me totally gay. When I recovered and converted on the spot, I kissed him long and hotly.
Today I am tooling along a country road in my Corvette. I borrowed it from my last victim while he lay recovering. He'll be all right, he's a high school athlete and his blood was rich and lasting. I may not need a refill for a month or so. Of course, if an opportunity presents itself, I shall not resist.
You may wonder why I use an auto for transportation, why I don't fly. Sadly that is another myth. We can't fly nor can be transform ourselves into bats. Just an old wives' tale. We can however jump exceeding far. We could win the Olympic event if we were foolish enough to enter. Oh yes, the Olympics, what a wonderful source of primp blood. However it is sometimes bitter from those enhancing drugs they use.
We could also win the lifting events. I can balance a car on one hand.
Did I hear someone out there asking "How come I am riding out in the sunshine? Aren't I supposed to be in a coffin?" Ridiculous idea from the movies. Why would a quality boy like me want to waste the day sleeping. The best boys are to be found in the daytime. And a coffin! I sleep in the best beds in the best hotels.
How do I pay for all this luxury? Hah, the eyes make the clerk think that the dollar bill I give him is a hundred dollar one. I even get change. What a rascal I am but cute.
What do I see up ahead. A young fellow. Cute as fuck with his sandy colored unkempt hair. He is picking apples and I can see his large arm muscle flexing with each pull. He's shirtless. Oh those pecs and the top of a good belly set peeking out of the top of his canvas work pants. Although I am pretty sated I can't help but stop because besides eating, there is sex to satisfy as well.
I slowed, then stopped right along side of the boy. Now this close I could see that he was a mere lad of eighteen. He sure didn't look gay, but then I have been pleasantly surprised many times. There was that young soldier in 1916, and the kid selling apples in 1930. And at least six more. And here we are again with apples. He was holding one in his hand as he approached my car.
"You'll fancy a juicy piece of fruit," he said, exposing his seriously perfect white teeth and pink tongue. Oh my prick is not undead right now.
"Oh yes young farmer, I love fruit."
He handed it to me but his eyes roamed my body and lingered at my crotch area. Why you handsome farm dog, I thought. You look like an ad for a bucolic scene but you have a tinge of the purple I do declare.
"I never seen such purdy hands. I mean each nail is trimmed and there is a shine on each nail. The skin looks so soft and white. What country you from?"
"Transylvania," I said amusing myself though it wasn't true. I was from Kansas a long time ago.
"I never heared of it but they sure turn out pretty fellas."
"Come apple boy, open the door and sit next to me."
He smiled, oh those teeth again, and put his big feet in followed by his ample thighs and settled down on the leather. I was immediately assailed by his sweaty odor flavored with a cider smell. Nice as fuck.
"Is there a quite place, off the road that we might park and visit together."
As I said that, I used my eyes to control him. His full lips pursed in surprise at the feeling that overcame him and he muttered in a sleepy voice. "Yes sir, take this road and park in the open barn. Don't nobody come there anymore."
I rubbed his thigh. I love nice full thighs. I headed to the barn. On the way he sagged a bit and his head was laying on my shoulder. Nice, for the moment, but I'll have to rouse him and his prick soon..
Inside the barn it was warm from the sun on the metal roof and there was a farmy smell from the hay on the floor. I lifted his head and spoke softy. "Okay dude, waky waky."
His blue bell colored eyes opened wide and he stared at me. I almost swooned. Who's hypnotizing whom? He reached out a big, work roughened hand and felt my lean, pale cheek. "Oh my you are one wonderful man. Yur skin feels like silk."
I felt my long prick snaking out of one leg of my linen shorts. My breath came in jerky bursts. "You okay. You never tol' me yur name."
One of my games was to give a different name to each boy I encountered on my trips to a bloody buffet. I answered, "Laplock."
"Oh, mine's Billy, not so interesting."
I gave one pull on his button fly jeans. "It's a perfect name."
I reached in. His fat, friendly prick was bent sideways caught in the folds of his white undershorts. "Poor big guy, he needs to be rescued." I lifted the undershorts away and the smooth white, fat snake lifted up like it was on a spring and landed up in the air, the cover just now pulling away and exposing a shell pink head.
He gasped in surprise. "You sure know what you want. Yur kinda fresh, ain't you?"
"Yes I am, but more bold than you think."
I leaned down and took his bulb in my mouth. Remember I am a master of the suck mechanism. Until you have bit through a vein and cleared it out, you don't know real technique.
His head fell back on the leather and his mouth fell open as the full effect of my suction hit him. He drooled. His prick drooled also. I lapped it up. This boy was a fast cummer, I could tell. I better grab my blood snack before this tryst ends. I felt his cock stiffening and lengthening. I judged him to be easily eight inches. His bare knees began to lift and he began an all American cum song. I quickly shifted to his lovely muscular thigh and pieced the flesh quickly. I slurped up the wonderful, healthy, farm lad blood. The best quality in the world.
I quickly returned to his arched cock, the piss slit already undulating and began swirling my tongue around the shaft and sucking at the same time. He forgot the stab of pain he had just felt as his mind became that of a beast intent on sensations. He grunted loudly and delivered the first burst of salty essence. Fine stuff. I savored it as I swallowed it. This double treat of body fluids made me supremely happy.
His cock kept jerking and delivering cum and his body rose and fell along with it. Finally he stopped moving and lay there his face looking peaceful and spent. I took his discarded clothes and lay them on the hay outside the car like a bower for him to rest on. Then I lifted him still almost naked and placed him on his clothes. His eyes were fluttering reluctant to open and lose the pleasant daze he was in.
I looked down on him, enjoying the appearance of his light brown pubic hair that spread from hip to hip. Impulsively I leaned down and placed a firm loving kiss on his full lips. He sighed and slipped down to nap a bit more.
I looked down on my unsatisfied stiff prick. "Tonto (I called him Tonto because he was my Indian friend) our work is done here.
I got back in the car and headed for the state highway. It was time for me to get lodging for the night and rest.
End of Part One