saw her fine faery form unfold at a fetish night. Dragonfly
she wore, flapping from her insect-like shoulders and
tight torso squeezed into black PVC. Her spidery legs
covered by fishnets and black boots, she was fragile
yet deadly; maybe more wasp woman than dragonfly. Dark
lipstick, jet-black hair, pale skin, her blue eyes seized
mine from across the dance floor. I smiled, thinking
about her willowy neck, how badly my teeth wanted to
bruise her there--the succulent hollow where her shoulder
meets her hair. She didn't smile back, just floated
my way. We were dancing without words exchanged. She
seemed too easy, yet strangely aloof, like she descended
from another world. As if reading my thoughts, she grabbed
my waist, pulled me into her. Effortless strength. I
would have lost my balance, but she pushed back into
me. And her neck, taut, tendoned and tender, beckoned.
I had to swallow my saliva. So enraptured I was, I didn't
notice when a Gothic dom, older, mischievous, started
circling us. Next thing I knew, she was binding the
wasp woman and I together with electrical tape wrapped
around our bodies, from our shoulders to our knees.
Cocooned, we were. Still, we said nothing. Strange heat
from her stomach and pointed hips pressed against me.
Boiling hot and hungry, I couldn't hold back for another
second. I dipped down but she already knew what I was
after; tossing her head back, she laid it bare for my
mouth, my teeth, probing the elixir of her flesh. Her
throat. It has to be the sweetest, most vulnerable part
of any woman. I imagined choking her, taking away breath
and giving it back just before she came.
her supple strength, she started walking me backward
through the crowd, toward the bar. Strange four-legged
animal, soon my back was pressed against the bar; she
ordered vodka straight-up. I shook my head. The drinks
arrived--vodka in shot glasses. She just smiled, started
to unravel our bindings. Standing on the wad of gummy
black on the floor, we could have gone our separate
ways, done anything. But moving one centimeter away
from her heat seemed impossible. Then, the most astonishing
thing happened. She didn't drink the vodka or expect
me to drink. Instead she stepped back, lifted the glasses,
threw the alcohol on her wings, flicked my lighter she
had snuck out of my pocket and set her wings on fire.
She flapped around in a mad circle, the flames licking
closer to her shoulders, her hair. Icarus, were you
saying, 'Let's fly into the sun together?' She answered
with a shrug, once then twice, and her burning wings
fell to the floor. She stomped them out with her elegant
to say, we were escorted out instantly. Standing outside
in her long leather coat, she looked like a Gestapo
boy-soldier--her wide jaw set, her eyes probing mine
with questions. And still we did not speak. Across the
street in the parking lot, 2:00 AM, my car waited. Big
blue station wagon had plenty of room for her and I.
Turned on the heat, reclined the power seats--no console
in the middle so it's like a bench seat. Perfect for
sucking on a cool, clear autumn night. She opened her
coat and I dove inside the pliant perfumed goat leather.
Her nimble hands reached around and undid clasps at
the back of her PVC insect armor. She hesitated just
a moment for my brain to wrap around the sight I was
about to see.
with nipples turned to stone, my mouth seized on one,
then the other. Appetizers. Little hors d'oeuvres
of love. My hands reached around her back, feeling all
the strength coiled up in her gymnast-like body. Two
fingers found her smooth, hairless opening already wet;
I gave them to her. Still we did not speak, as she rocked
against my hand and my mouth inched closer to the place
I wanted to devour from the moment I first saw her.
Her hand rubbed me frantically, expertly, through my
pants, down my leg, tracing my length. So skilled was
her touch, I thought I might cum in my pants. But then
my mouth fused with her throat and I was onto something
greater. The muscle and esophagus like a penis with
her head thrown back, following the length from her
jaw to the base of her throat, I sucked up and down
that stalk. She was getting close. I felt her deep moan
vibrating up through her neck like a reed I was play
with my lips and teeth. I moved my mouth to the side
of her neck and let my teeth bite down without mercy.
I thought she would scream, but instead her hips started
smashing against my hand while her head shook side
to side. I felt like a predator holding onto the neck
of its prey, no matter what, until it dies; and all
that tension in her taut body pushed out of her with
a shattering scream.
we didn't say a word, as my zipper whispered of things
to come. He was out in her tiny, soft, strong hands.
One hand played the shaft and head, the other teased
and tempted the juice in my balls. I started to push
the back of her head downward, expecting her to yield,
give me the sucking pleasure of her mouth. Instead
she resisted with serpent-like strength, driving back
against my hand. This battle continued: I pressed
harder, she pushed back just as hard. It was hopeless
to guide her anywhere. I stopped. In that moment,
holding all of me in both her hands, she looked me
dead in the eye. She simply opened her mouth, then
smiled for the first time. Too late. I saw the gleam
off her canines sharper than ivory daggers. I pulled
back but she had me in both hands squeezing. I cried
out in pain. An animal sound like the shriek of a
bird tearing into its prey filled the metal sarcophagus
as she flew into me. Her teeth sunk into the same
place on me where I had bit her. Only hers instantly
broke through the skin. Pain so intense, my eyes felt
like they would jettison from my skull. I screamed,
tried to move in any direction; she had me in both
I couldn't tell which pain was worse and then I knew,
as the sucking sound came and her throat began to
gurgle with joy, I was never the hunter, always the
released her vicelike grip on my loins; resistance
was futile. Something deep inside surrendered to the
heat in my neck. My brain tasted an opiate-like narcotic
numbing the initial pain. I followed the sound of
my blood being swallowed in rhythm with my pulse.
Pain was replaced by warmth and pressure allowing
me to feel my monstrous ezrection that must have originated
in hell. And so it was I who spoke first, in a whisper,
meek and fractured, "Take me."
was only blood and desire to her and she was taking
both when the force of every orgasm I'd ever known
surged up through my cock, my whole body. The warm
liquid spilled with no beginning, no end; it poured
from me like a stream rushing over a dam, falling
into a black lake.
nothing but a rhythmic hypnotic hum...her ancient
heart beating against my face cradled to her chest.
Her hand closing my wound with loving pressure, finally