Here’s more from my Rainbow Snippet of yesterday–
Oh dear Lord Mabon, that throat. The imagined feel of soft skin like tissue, yet supple. I imagine my lengthening fangs denting the delicate surface, then finally penetrating that beating artery, his sharp inhaled moan spurring me on. I can’t help but lick my lips in anticipation, but—somehow, it doesn’t seem enough.
What if I sired him?
It seems incredible to me that, in all the years of my half-life, that I’ve never sired anyone. I’ve never felt the need, or the desire to. But this young man is different somehow. I feel something from him that I haven’t felt with any of my proteges or victims—male or female. He could be more. I feel a tremble of anticipation coursing through me. I have heard of nightwalkers regaining the power of sexual congress, but it’s never happened to me before this. In answer, my member plumps up slightly, whether from my recent meal with that elderly professor or this young man’s presence and scent I’m unable to tell.
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