Making A Reenactment Of This Fantasy Opened A...

Thank goodness it was just near where I was staying and you were certainly not going to go home just yet. These conventions are killers; talk, talk, watch, listen attentively, more talk, then socialise with a hundred strangers with the only connection being the same industry, blah blah blah blah and blah! We poured into my room, falling backwards onto the king size bed, side by side. You rolled over and kneeled across my body and kissed me like there was no tomorrow. “Oh dear,” was my only thought, “If this is to be punishment, bring it on!” as I succumbed to your advances. It was merely a few minutes before I found myself with no clothes which was almost embarrassing as we had never gone further than a French kiss, but I thought here was I naked on the bed and erect as a skyscraper right before your eyes. You had removed most of your clothes by now and was crawling all over me, your musky pussy whisping its lust-fuelled fragrance up my nose making me ever harder. Staring into my. He couldn’t understand. The dreams, the visions… why was he seeing his Foster Brother’s eyes open from underneath the car’s bumper? No one had touched, spoke or even acknowledged him at the funeral. He’d figured it was because he had been ostracised by the family, but it wasn’t. It was because he wasn’t there. Actually, that was wrong, he had been there, standing at the back whilst also… also lying in the coffin. He’d been a guest at his own funeral. The irony was totally lost on him. With realisation came anguish. Torturous pain tore through his head, emanating from his mouth: his canines were growing, pushing towards his bottom lip. He realised… He remembered. His Wife – his Wife and his Foster Brother had done this. That parchment that she’d thrown into the grave must have been the ancient transcript… the one that told of how to turn the innocent into a vampire without the need of even touching them. His Foster Brother had shown it to him on more than one occasion – he’d seen it.
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