(Not So)Homeless (Christmas)Vampire

Penywise Dec 25th, 2015 6,989 Never
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  1. You turn the keys, killing the ignition, and sit back in the car seat a moment. Sighing, fighting to slough off the exhaustion. Bleary eyed, you look you your watch. It reads ten, A.M. “Another late day.” You stifle a yawn, and get out of the car, almost forgetting to lock it behind you. It’s amazing how quickly your system adapted to your new lover. Almost dead on your feet, you stumble to the front door to your home, and rest your forehead against it, staring at the lock, forgetting that sheer willpower alone isn’t enough to turn the lock, and you need the keys currently in your hand.
  3. You pick the right key, and poke at the lock for a bit, fumbling around, until you hit the slit spot on, and slide it in, twisting to the side, hearing the securely satisfying clunk of metal bolds sliding out of place. You push the door open, and stumble into your cool, pitch black home, and sigh. “Home at last.” You close the door, and shut out the last light, locking it again and putting the keys aside.
  5. You turn, to see a figure materialise out of the dark, sitting on a chair in the entrance way, nodding off, the puffy white ball of her santa hat resting next to her nose, jaw open slightly as she slumps in her sleep. One of her thigh high socks has crumpled down around her shin, the other still in place, her loose top partially open, buttoned up only to hold her breasts, much larger now. The open buttons at the bottom reveal a healthy looking belly, lightly toned with muscle yet deceptively soft. You can’t help but smile, and walk up to her, crouching before her. You take her chin in your fingers, and lean forward to place your lips against hers. She jolts slightly at the contact, red eyes flashing open, wary at first, before she registers your presence and relaxes. She shuffles forward in her chair, and hooks her legs around your hips, arms around your shoulders, the fullness of her weight pushing you off balance and making you fall back onto your ass, the kiss unbroken. She holds you a little longer, and you’re more than happy to oblige her her clingy indulgences.
  7. Finally, she releases your lips, giving you a tired, drowsy smile, face still half obscured by the floppy santa hat “Welcome home.”  
  9. You brush her long fringe behind her ear, and tuck it under the hat “You shouldn’t have waited up for me, Miriam. It’s late.”
  11. She shakes her head, “It’s the least I could do, dear. Did you have a good night?”
  13. “Yeah. It was long as usual, but not so bad.” She smiles, already nodding off,
  15. “Goood…” You roll your eyes, and slip your hands under her butt,
  17. “Hold on.” Her legs and arms tighten around you, and you wobble to your feet, holding her up, “Lets go to bed.” She moans, and nuzzles into your neck, as you carry her to your room, navigating through the dark. You fall into bed, her deadweight not making it any easier, and draw the sheets over the two of you, already feeling the heavy weight of slumber settle on your shoulders.  She reaches up, and places a soft kiss on your lips, holding you extra tight, and giggles when she lets go. You look at her questioningly, and she points upwards before snuggling into you. Just faintly can you make a branch of mistletoe hanging above you through the gloom.
  19. “Merry Christmas, love.”
  22. ***
  24. Your nose twitches, a warm and cozy waft of scents coursing over you, the mixed smell of ham and turkey being roasted, the scents of baked cinnamon and nutmeg, the faintly alcoholic smell of rum brewed with a creamy vanilla and the fresh bite of cinnamon, but the scents of the early night are but a passing notion before the pleasure of the tight wet throat around your cock. It courses through your as through to catch up on all the pleasure felt whilst asleep.
  26. The bedsheets wriggle and move, and the hungry vamp beneath them works on your cock, tongue lapping at the base of your shaft, her soft hands on your balls as you thrust through the back of her throat, wrapping around your cock when she pulls back to lavish attention of the head, and adding her grip to the mix. Climax isn’t far at all, something which tells you that this is perhaps the prime culprit to your sudden awakening.
  28. You grab the sheets and throw them back, revealing the little sucker, her crimson eyes glinting gleefully at you, even as her slender throat bulges with the girth of your malehood. She traces light circles below your belly button with her finger, as her head bobs on your prick , at times twisting her head, so it grinds along her soft fleshy cheek before slipping past the back of her throat and into the tight passage, the walls twisting and coiling to milk you of her morning treat. If the morning began at… you twist your head to the clock on the bedside table. Six thirty P.M. If she’s this energetic before the sun has even set, this is going to be a very, very white Christmas.
  30. She takes your shaft down her throat a final time, lips pressing right up to your groin, and she flashes you a needy look with her big, bright crimson eyes, the message they bare just about all you need to bring yourself to a messy orgasm, cock twitching hard, trapped in her throat as it is, spasming as it shoots its thick load into her waiting, hungry belly. She licks up the shaft as she brings her head off it, sucking the last of it out. She cleans the head of your cock with her tongue, before letting it bounce free with a pop.
  32. “Good morning to you, too.”
  34. She giggles, giddily, “Good morning, honey.”
  36. You wince as your stomach growls, “What’s that smell?”
  38. She grins, wide like a Cheshire, “Lots of things.” She crawls up onto your belly, and you take the moment to take her in, a red transparent babydoll lines in white fluff, clinging nicely to her curves, showing you her body, far more nourished than when the two of you first met. There’s meat on her bones now, and a soft bit of fat, not too much to distort her toned and tight belly, just enough to make her supremely cuddleable, helped in part by the way her body naturally distributes the softness to her breasts and ass first. She’s still on the slim side, but if anything, the barely visible lower ridge of her rib cage, and the slight jutting out of her pelvic bone only add to her charm.
  40. Her breasts were great when you first met her of course, but even they have filled out slightly, not becoming particularly large, just fuller, rounder curved. Her ass is another matter entirely, but it has less to do with her current state of health and more to do with the exercises she’d been doing these past few months as you moved in together, to pass the time while you were out at work, building the muscle up to the point her thighs were nice and thick, her ass round and tight, emphasising the curve of her hips, and the triangle gap between her plump thighs. Though as they grew more muscled, and as she filled out, that triangle became slightly smaller.            
  42. Her bright pink nipples tent the fabric of her top, her breasts bare under the thin cloth, the only underwear she’s wearing, high cut briefs of the same transparent, red fabric as the rest of the ensemble that hug her hips, a tiny gap at the top as the elastic curves over the pelvic bone. Embroidered just below the band is “Kiss Me”, a depiction of mistletoe just below, and just below that, is the vamp’s clit, poking out just slightly, a small line of wetness down her slit, excitement from her ‘morning’ treat. The bottoms cling tight enough to cut a slight, pleasant indentation, but the effect is much more magnified by the high socks clinging to his meaty thighs, making her look pleasant and plump enough to be devoured herself.
  44. “Cute outfit.”
  46. She grins, “Oh, you like it?”
  48. “Where did you get it?”
  50. “Saved up for it when I was part timing a month or so ago.”
  52. “That far in advance?”
  54. She blushes, the tips of her pointed vampiric ears poking out of her flowing, smooth black hair, equally as red, “This is my first real Christmas. With you. Ever, really. I just wanted it to be special. So I wanted to look special for you ”
  56. You grin, sit up, an kiss her, her soft lips pressing into your own. You wrap your arms around her, and squeeze her tight enough to make her squeak, “This is already the best Christmas ever.”
  58. She laughs, “It hasn’t even begun. But, first things first, I need breakfast.” A familiar, hungry glint flashes in her eyes, “But don’t worry, I’ve got some special breakfast for you too, and then a massive lunch and a cute little dessert planned. I put some special ingredients in to make you nice and energetic, so tonight is going to be good.”
  60. “Not too much garlic, okay. That stuff always makes you go wild.”
  62. She just grins as she wraps her arms around you, and licks your neck, dragging her tongue up, and nibbling on the bottom of your earlobe. She whispers to you a low, husky and sultry tone, “That won’t be until later tonight.” She opens her mouth, fangs glinting and moans as she pierces your throat. A shiver runs you through, and a heavy euphoria settles in its wake as she begins to feed. She wraps her legs around your hips too, and you lean your on head forward to kiss and nibble at her shoulder, making her sigh pleasantly as she drinks. You begin to run your fingers through her silky hair, and you feel as though if she could purr she would. You bask in the oozing aura of satisfaction she radiates, and wait for her to drink her fill.
  64. Eventually, she frees you, and wipes her crimson stained lips. “Mmm, I don’t know what it is, but you have been tasting so fucking delicious lately. I’m hooked, I really am. Anyway, come to the kitchen, babe, I’ll cook you up something good.” She dismounts your chest, and slips off the bed, stepping out of the room in an exaggerated walk, hips and ass wiggling behind her. At the doorway, she twists and pokes her tongue out at you, then slips away, leaving you to get your groggy ass up and out of bed. Of course, the scents and sounds of sizzling bacon speed your process up a bit.
  66. You stumble over to the chest of draws and pull out some underwear, an old pair of jeans, and an ancient, faded band shirt. When you turn to leave, you notice a new hook on the back of the bedroom door, a giant fluffy red coat, rimmed in fluffy snow, and bite back a chuckle. There’s a hat there too, and you put both on before leaving.
  68. Miriam is in the kitchen, hair up in a bouncing ponytail, nearly-naked butt wiggling to the music piping through the gramophone, spatula in a hand, frying pan in the other. As for why there was a gramophone piping lewd Christmas carols into the kitchen, Miriam just winked at you, and told you that she thought it would make a nice present, and that having lived homeless for as long as she did, she knew exactly where to get bargains for cheap. The vamp was a wealth of street smarts that made looking after her so easy, she might as well have been looking after herself.
  70. You step up behind her, and grab her hips which are moving as if by their own volition, and lay kisses up her back and shoulders. She wiggles back into you, and grins, the very picture of jolly cheer, if that picture has an ass nearly half as good. “Smells yummy?”
  72. You lick the back of her neck, making her giggle, “Tastes delicious.”
  74. “Could you fix some coffee?”
  76. “Sure.” Somewhat reluctantly, you relinquish her wide, shapely hips, and meander towards the coffee, taking a sidelong glance at the pot on the stove, billowing the alcoholic scent of hot eggnog.
  78. “I think you used too much rum, dear.”
  80. “Huh? What language was that? You have to speak in words I understand, honey.” You chuckle and continue towards the coffee machine, reaching up to a cupboard above it to grab some of the ground and powdered stuff in a plastic container with the scoop still in it. You refill the machine with fresh coffee, and pour a jug of milk placing it under the steam-spout before dropping a small thermometer into it, and turning the valve, listening to the familiar hissing as you reach for a pair of mugs.
  82. “I’m done here. Sit down, dear, I’ll finish the coffee.”
  84. “Are you sure?”
  86. “Of course I’m sure! Shoo!” You laugh a little as she ushers you towards the dining table, and take a seat. The table is already set, glasses on the table, a jug of juice in the middle cubes of ice keeping it chilled. Clearly this entire day has been planned by her. Even the glasses have miniature elf and santa figures stuck to them via suction cups.
  88. You sit back in your chair, and she arrives carrying a large tray with both steaming mugs of coffee, two plates, one far larger than the other, a few other plates of toast, some butter, some jam, a pitcher of water and a bowl of fruit. Yet she holds the tray high, and there is enough room for her to rest her breasts upon it, emphasising her cleavage, two candy canes hot-dogged in the middle, her hips still needlessly swinging sluttishly wide as she walks.
  90. She puts the tray down in the centre of the table, and crosses her arms under her breasts to hold the canes in place, leaning forwards, “Take one, dear.” Grinning, you lean forwards, and bury your face in her soft breasts, fishing a cane out with a combined effort from your teeth and tongue. She gives a long and low moan as you slide it out of her cleavage, but for as exaggerated and fake as it is, you appreciate it all the same, blushing slightly at her sheer provocation.    
  92. She takes a seat opposite you and begins to eat her own meagre portion, eating for taste more than sustenance; there’s plenty of that in your blood. You, on the other hand, wolf it down with gusto, and vitality you lost from this ‘morning’s feeding session already returned and then some.
  94. In no time you’re on your fourth rash of bacon after your second egg, third tomato and fourth mushroom, second glass of juice, third sausage and halfway through your mug of coffee. That’s one thing. Your appetite has been phenomenal since you took Miriam in.
  96. Miriam hops up and heads back into the kitchen, returning just as you finish your mug of coffee with a thermos of eggnog. She pours it into your mug, smiling. “To settle it down with.” Her smile, or her leer, is a little too suspicious for you to keep your peace.
  98. “Okay. What’s in it?”
  100. “Do you really want to know?”
  102. “…Perhaps not.” She stalks around behind you,
  104. “I’ll be generous, on this day of giving, and tell you just one of my special ingredients…” behind you now, she leans down and draws her tongue down the length of your ear, before whispering into it, “My own ‘juices’, for one…” You stare down at the now-not-so-innocent looking drink, and swallow a mouthful of saliva before bringing it to your lips. She leans over you, her breasts on your shoulders, her hand under yours, and helps you bring the cup to your lips, a hand on your throat to massage the liquid down, but for as delicious and smooth it is, she hardly needed to. “Come, there are some carols on TV”
  106. She holds her hand out for you, and you take it, already beginning to feel the effects of whatever was in that. Perhaps that explains the copious amounts of alcohol; to hide whatever it was she spiked it with. She leads you into the lounge-room, lit only by the bright glow of the fireplace, and turns the TV on. You sink into one of the lounges, and she follows after, sitting in your lap. She changes over towards the nigh-time carols, a famous Siren up on stage, entrancing the crowd into an orgiastic fuckfest. Prime time TV. Part of the reason for her success, being the diluted, yet still present effects of her magic through recordings, and as it fills your lounge-room in conjunction with the concoction you just drank, and Miriam in the process of pouring oyu another mug of, your pants quickly begin to grow tight. This is helps, least of all, by her slow and steady grinding in your lap.
  108. You’re barely focusing on the TV now, letting the gentle music carry you away, and you almost don’t notice it when Miriam undoes your jeans under her, and pulls out your prick, already half erect, and sits atop it, pushing it down to stick out between her soft thighs. She continues to rock back and forth, and you lift your butt up to pull your pants down just a bit further, for greater freedom to better enjoy her intercrural embrace.
  110. The adds pass by, and the siren begins to sing again as you finish your second mug, your belly heavy and satisfied, your cock diamond solid as her soft thighs jerk you off, your shaft growing slick with your own pre and her girl juices. Then you gasp, as your cock is wrapped in her cool, vampiric lips, split around your girth and grinding against it. Miriam giggles, “Like it? This is why it was so expensive. Enchanted fabric reveals a slit when it gets, uh… wet enough.” She continues to grind against you, slickly now, and grabs your hands, lifting them up to hold her breasts, rolling her head back and letting out a throaty moan.
  112. You begin thrusting your hips slightly, cock spearing through her thighs, but she stops moving just as you begin to climax, and the wave teeters out just before it breaks. You groan, kept on the edge, the siren-slut’s singing on TV and the fuck draught she’d been feeding you not helping the matter in the slightest. Through a solid half hour of carols, she has you on edge, until, she lifts her hips high off your lap, as the crescendo of one of the currently playing songs rises and unable to keep the game up any longer, she positions your twitching, throbbing, pre-drooling cock right up against her pucker, and does a little circle with her hips getting the head of your cock halfway in her, before slamming her hips down into your lap, screaming out in joy as you fill her, utterly drowning out your own surprised gasp.
  114. As on edge as you were, as close to cumming as you were, having your entire cock embraced balls deep in her cool, tight ass is all you needed to tip you over the brink, and you fill her gut with the seed that had been broiling for half an hour. But that’s far from the end of her plans, and she begins to bounce in your lap, even as you cum. She plants her hands on your hips under her, and swings her hips forward, away from you, drawing your shaft out to the head before swallowing its length entirely, with how messy you already were, plus the white seed drooling out of her over-filled hole, every time her ass slams into your lap, it lands with a satisfyingly wet slap.
  116. You pinch and pull at her nipples as she rides you, making her cry our half-thought words of encouragement as she practically uses you to pound her own ass. She slams her hips down again and again, and with your cock so sensitive from the previous half hour of teasing, you bust a second nut in her gut, this time holding her in place as you spurt an even bigger amount of cum into her stomach, with force and volume enough to give her flat belly a small bulge of cum. She moans as her unused quim quivers in orgasm, and settles in your lap, your cock still buried up her ass.
  118. “Ohh… I’m not sure what makes me feel the most fill. A belly full of your blood, or a belly full of your cum. I think I want both.”
  120. You grin, satisfied, and hold your wrist up to her lips, “On the tap, ma’am.” She latches on, and moans and squirms so lewdly that you become hard again inside of her. The blood runs down her throat and settles in her stomach, and as she slakes her thirst of you, her two most precious essences in the world within her, she cums again, ass tightening almost crushingly around your shaft squeezing out any residual seed beyond a doubt.  
  122. “Mmmmm, Both… Both is definitely best.”
  124. You wrap your arms around her chest, and pull her down with you onto the lounge, curling up around her, still rock solid, but more tired than anything. “I think a nap is in order.”
  126. “Sounds perfect.”
  129. ***
  131. You waken an hour later, the short nap all you needed to recoup your energy. Your dick is kin of sensitive though, and if feels like her ass might have wrung another orgasm or two out of you while the two of you slept, but when you pull your soft cock out of her ass, nothing follows, her belly taut and flat like always. Freakin’ monsterwomen, man. You sigh, and wobble to your feet, slipping out from under the snoozing vamp, eyes set on the holy land of warm milk and caffeine.
  133. You put your pants back on, yawn, groan and stretch, and stumble into the kitchen, taking your two mugs with you, and you put them down on the bench, turning the machine on, and pulling down the sugar. Twin orbs of softness press into your back, and a slender pair of arms wraparound your hips.
  135. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
  137. “MmmHmm, but if you didn’t, what I have in the oven might burn…” She slips her hands under your shirt, her hands caressing your chest as they slide upwards, and she lines kisses up your shoulders, the back of your neck, and the corner of your jaw. With a hand she lightly pinches your nipple, the other trailing lines with her fingernails, heading further and further down. “So thanks.”
  139. You grin wryly, “Get off my back, woman.”
  141. “Don’t wanna.”
  143. You catch her hand just before it slips down your pants, “It’s Christmas. And Christmas presents are the best when opened last. Anticipation and all that.”
  145. “Aww.” You twist in her embrace, her chest against yours, and trail your own hand down her back, slipping in her panties, rounding the curve of her ass, and burying two fingers knuckle deep in her snatch, making her go wide eyed and gasp wordlessly as she leans on you for support.
  147. “But then again, half the fun of it is trying to get a peek at your present before you get to open it, anyway.”
  149. She half moans, half growls, “I tear my presents open, babe. The sooner I can get to its yummy insides the better.”
  151. “Well then,” you take your fingers out, and suck them dry, “I guess this year is the year you learn the virtue of patience.” You grin, “It’s a Christmas miracle.”
  153. She pouts then giggles, “Meeany.” You reach back, and hand her a mug of coffee,
  155. “Sorry. Here, forgive me?”
  157. She frowns playfully, then takes a sip as if to wager her mercy upon your skill as a barista “… forgiven.” You lean forwards, and lay a light kiss upon her lips, your noses rubbing against eachother,
  159. “Hallelujah”
  161. “Hungry?”
  163. “Starved. Your ass is an exercise unto itself. I feel like I just ran a marathon.”
  165. She grins mischievously, “You’re not done running yet, pretty boy. Now get outta here, I’ll call you when its ready. Go on, git.” She begins to push you out of the kitchen and you throw your arms up in mock surrender,
  167. “I get it, I get it, I’m going.” You sigh as you trudge out of the room and back into the lounge-room, grabbing your laptop off a small table to your left as you pass, the charger chord trailing after, and you plop down onto the lounge and boot it up, planning on killing a few hours funposting on imageboards. Time flies as you get into a heated argument about which kind of milk is better, undead or spider, and it isn’t long until you hear Miriam calling for you.
  169. “Set the table, babe, I’m nearly done.”
  171. “Coming!” You shut the laptop, wondering if you could ever get Miriam to lactate, and head into the kitchen, sucker-punched with a sledgehammer of smells as she opens the oven door, and the sheer slice of heaven she’d been baking for these past few hours rears its delicious head, “By all that is virginal and holy, what is that?”
  173. She turns around and smiles, comically large oven mitts on her hands, clashing completely with the slutty Santa outfit she’d worn all night, “Leg of ham and half a turkey, the ham is glazed in honey, the turkey roasted in spices, some baked potatoes and pumpkin and there’s a salad in the fridge. Wanna get that?”
  175. “Sure.” The vamp sets into carving, and you head to the fridge to grab the bowl of salad wrapped in clear plastic, and place it on the table. Then you head off to grab cutlery, glasses, condiments and other things to set the table with, including a bottle of red.  
  177. “Done yet?”
  179. “Yeah, table’s all set” You sit down and watch as she covers the over trays with alfoil before coming to the table with the plates stacked high with food. You pour her a glass of wine first, then yourself, and you both settle down.
  181. Miriam blushes a little bit, and fiddles with her thumbs in her lap, “M-Merry Christmas, dear. I’m not sure how well I did, but I wanted to do something nice for you this year a-and,”
  183. “Miriam.”
  185. “Y-yes?”
  187. You smile softly, “This has easily, hands down, been the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Calm down, you’ve done an amazing job.”
  189. Suddenly bashful, she looks down and smiles, “Thank you.”
  191. “Not just this Christmas. Ever since we met, you’ve made my life worth living. I can leave for work only because I know I can return home to you. I love you, Miriam. A whole lot.”
  193. Her ears go red and she begins to shake, her hair hanging down across her face. You almost think she’s laughing until you see the tears fall into her lap. Silently, she gets up, crosses the table, and sits in your lap, her face still hidden. Before you can push the hair out of her eyes, she lifts her head and kisses you fiercely, the motion parting her fringe, and you see her watery red-rimmed eyes simmer in affection. She holds you crushingly tight as she kisses you, and maintains a crystal clear eye contact, trying to get across infinite words of love and adoration in a single moment. It’s a long time until her lips part from yours, and her face is a slick mess, your own cheeks burning hot where her ice cold tears had fallen.
  195. She smiles, hearts burning in her eyes, almost radiating happiness, and cups your cheeks, ducking in for another quick kiss, “I love you too, dear. More than anything.”    
  197. You smile back, gently, “I know, love. Besides, the night will only get better yet, there’s still dessert, then the presents.”
  199. “Right. Sorry, your food is probably getting cold.”
  201. You kiss her cheek, “You should know by now that the cold doesn’t bother me.” She slides off your lap, and heads back around the table,
  203. “Yeah,” She grins, “Sorry.” She takes her glass, and downs it, grinning after, “Mood change.”
  205. You laugh as you slice into a chunk of ham, then put the fork down, grabbing the bottle and refilling her glass “Sure.” Festive music fills the room as the two of you eat in silence, though Miriam less eats, and more watches your reactions to her cooking, looking more and more pleased with herself with each one. She sighs, happily, a toothy grin splitting her face from ear to ear,
  207. “You know, A few months ago, before I even saw you pass, I had no idea I’d be spending Christmas like this. Freezing on the streets at worst. Inside some charity home at best. Never this. Do you believe in fate?”
  209. “If fate is what led me to you, then sure I do.” You sigh, “This isn’t what I pictured either. Just another empty night, most likely. I…” You lift your fork again, “I much prefer this..” You pop the meat into your mouth and set your knife into some of the fluffy, roasted potato.
  211. “Yeah. Me too.” Soon the plate disappears before your eyes, and Miriam hands you a napkin with an amused smirk as she points to the corner of her lip.
  213. “Did you like it?”
  215. “Yeah. It was delicious.”
  217. She smiles, “What do you want first? Dessert, presents,” She strikes a pose, leaning forwards, pressing her arm up between her breasts, pinkie finger on the corner of her bottom lip, “Or me?”
  219. You grin, “You for dessert, as my present.”
  221. “One at a time, greedy.”
  223. “Fine.  Dessert, presents, you.”
  225. “Sounds good, Dessert is in the fridge, I’ll just get it.” She hops up, a tiny bit unsteady on her feet after her second glass of wine in so many minutes, but more or less coordinated. You watch as she pulls out a large bowl, sets it down on the counter and fishes out two other, smaller bowls, and a large serving spoon, taking large scoops of what appears to be truffle, and heaping them into the bowls.
  227. Again there is a disparity in the size of the servings, but to your surprise, she hands you the smaller serving. “What? You know I have a sweet tooth.”
  229. “Hey, I never said anything.”
  231. You grin, “Perhaps.” You take a spoon from the table, and dig into the sugary mass, practically inhaling it, yet for all your haste, you still finish after Miriam. You stare at the Vamp.
  233. “What?”
  235. “Where does it all go?”
  237. She grins mischievously, “Secret. Anyway, want a hot chocolate before we open the presents?”
  239. “I’d love one.” You stand, excusing yourself from the table, and head over into the lounge-room, finding a nice spot on the floor before the tree to lie down, eyeing the two small packages under it, the TV still on, the carols long since over, now its blaring some menial crap. You reach for the remote on the floor, and turning it off, washing the room in silence except for the gramophone in the other room, playing more jingles, Miriam switching vinyl after vinyl out, where she got all them you have no idea.
  241. You lie back down on the ground and close your eyes for a brief moment, the warmth of the fire almost lulling you into sleep before her soft voice rouses you. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me now.”
  243. “Hah, sorry. It’s been a long few days, after tonight I think I might just crash.” You sit up and take the hot mug she holds out to you. Cradling it in your hands, you take a long drink and sigh, resting back on your hands. Miriam sits next to you, her mug nestles in her crossed legs, and rests her head on your shoulder.
  245. “That sounds like a good idea.”
  247. Your eyes fall to the two solitary parcels under the tree, and a sudden nervousness overtakes you. What if she doesn’t like it? “Sorry, I probably spent a whole lot more on this than I should have.”
  249. Miriam just laughs, “I guess that makes me just as bad as you, then.”
  251. “Well… whose should we open first?”
  253. Miriam chews her bottom lip, thinking. “Lets… lets open your first.”
  255. You swallow, and nod. You reach for the light, carefully wrapped box and hand it to her, bashful in your apprehension, “I-I um… thought for a long time about what would be good, and I had a whole lot of things to choose from, but… in the end I kinda went with this. There were a few things I was thinking about when I got it made and I wasn’t sure whi-”
  257. Miriam puts her finger to your lips, shushing you, smiling warmly, “Let me open it before you tell me what it is.”
  259. “Right. Sorry. Um, Merry Christmas.”
  261. She takes the box, and runs a nail across the tape, slicing it easily. The paper falls away to reveal an ornate wooden box. Rather than open it, she looks at the carvings, depicting ancient legends and sanguine deeds. “This wood…”
  263. “I-it’s yew, from the Carpathian woods.”
  265. “It’s beautiful.” Gingerly, as if worried she might shatter it, she opens the box, and gasps, nearly dropping it. Inside it is a dark stained yew pendant on a wrought iron chain, similar carvings on the wood, and in the centre, a smooth round gem. “…Bloodstone.”
  267. “One I had this alchemist Witch make. It… wasn’t cheap, and it’s made from actual blood.”
  269. “Yours…”
  271. “How did you know?”
  273. “I just… do.”
  275. “Any way, it’s a little silly, I just thought you might like to… I dunno.”
  277. Miriam blushes. “Man, this really makes me wish I went a little more all out. This, I… Thank you.” She turns to you, and wraps her arms around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your lips, “Thank you so much.”
  279. You blush, “I’m glad you like it. Here.” You take the pendant from her, and take an end of the chain in either hand to clinch it behind her neck.
  281. “It’s heavy.”
  283. “Sorry,”
  285. “No. It’s… It’s a pleasant weight.” She looks down at her own chest, a happy smile on her lips, and plays with the pendant a little bit, before giving you another hug and a kiss. “We had uh, similar ideas. Here,” She hands you the last box, “Open it. Merry Christmas”
  287. “Thanks.” You unwrap it much more inelegantly than she, and are met with a normal looking jewellery box.
  289. “Man, it really looks dumb after that.”
  291. You smile, “I haven’t even seen it yet.” You open the box, and in it is a silver pendant on a silver chain, similar in shape to a dog tag, just a little larger and far more elaborate. At first you thought that in the centre is a pill shaped gem, but at you tip the pendant you realise it’s a glass cylinder full of a viscous red liquid. “We really did have similar ideas.”
  293. “The pendant isn’t the important part, it’s the blood inside it. There’s a button on the side that will spill it if you press it, it’s uh… mine. I visited this witch a few times, and gave her some blood and after the tenth or so visit we ended up with this. It’s really potent, ten times more so than the stuff flowing through my veins, a-and…” She takes a shaky breath. “I really, really love you. I wanted to keep it short at the table, because I wanted to say it here, now. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Every last moment, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and probably never will. It would utterly destroy me if a few decades down the track you were to pass away, and… so… If  you, uh, drink it, you’ll be like me. Well, not like me, technically, you’ll just be an incubus, but, we’ll share the same life span. Centuries, more, and I’ve really though hard about it, and… Yeah. I want to spend it all with you.”
  295. “I…” You take a deep breath, and let Miriam put it around your neck, “I want to make a snap decision, but I feel like this kin of decision is worth more than that. Let me think about it for a bit.”
  297. “Of course.”
  299. “But, Miriam.”
  301. She turns to face you, “Yeah?” You lean forward and kiss her,
  303. “Thank you.”
  305. “It’s okay, you’re welcome.”
  307. She wraps her arms around you, and kisses you back, leaning on you, pushing you down before the fire, her long hair forming an intimate curtain around you, “You’ll always be welcome.” Her full lips come down to meet your own, and you hold her as she lay atop you. Her breath coming deeply and steady, almost hot as it spills across your face, her cheeks flushed bright red to match the rest of her outfit. She sits back and swings her leg over and off you, so she can slide your pants off, then she makes short work of her own panties and swings her leg back to straddle you.
  309. You sit up, and brace yourself on your hands panting them on the ground behind you. She leans down and traces kisses over your chest, reaching under her to take your cock in hand and sandwich it between her cheeks. Just like this ‘morning’, she begins to roll her hips back and forth, bringing your cock to a full erection, and making it slick in her own copious juices. She closes her eyes and moans in rapturous content, wrapping her arms back around your shoulders, arching her back. Your eyes are drawn to the bright pink nipples jiggling right in front of you, and you lean forward to pop one in your mouth, biting and nibbling and licking and flicking it.
  311. She lets out a quiet whimper, and holds your head to her breast as she rolls her hips back again, and presses the crown of your cock to her soft, slick cool lips. Like it’s the rightest thing in the wold for her to do, she rolls her hips back into yours, lips parting in a silent gasp, pushing inch after inch of your shaft into her depths, spreading her lips so tight around it, her walls cling to your cock on the way out, their tightness almost overwhelming.
  313. She settles back down in your lap, her inner muscles working your shaft, twisting and coiling and squeezing around it. She wraps her legs around your hips, her arms around your chest, and nuzzles into your shoulder, laying kisses along the skin, her fingers digging into your back as your cock throbs and twitches and hits a particularly sensitive spot. You lay your hands on her ass and help her hips roll, almost guiding her in her back and forth, side to side and circular motions.
  315. She pants into your shoulder, almost as if dazed, and looks up at you, her crimson eyes dilated, fangs bared, “D-do you mind if I?..”
  317. “Go ahead.”
  319. She mumbles a thankyou, and kisses your shoulder, sucking on it, bringing the blood to the surface before biting into it. You grunt as her twat tightens almost painfully, no longer able to do your gentle movements, just relying on her twitching muscles, but a part of you isn’t satisfied with that. You hug her shoulders, and rise to your knees, gently laying her down onto her back, still clinging to you, fags still lodged in your shoulder. With her on her back, even with her leglocking you, you have just enough movement to thrust in and out, forcing through her tightness, the passage becoming even more slick as she wrings the pre from your cock, her own lubrication adding to the slickness.
  321. You slip a hand between the two of you to grab her breast as you hump into her, and you play with the nipple as you buck your hips. Her muscles tense and flex, and she wiggles under you, making tiny, soft noises as you spread her wide, and plough through her. Soon she relaxes, and the tightness abates just the tiniest bit, her legs guiding you in, adding force to the thrusts. You shift your angle a little bit, then push back in, her walls parting around you, trying to push you out when you force your way in, trying to keep you in when you pull out. You push in, hard, and the head of your cock grinds against her cervix.
  323. With a gasp she releases your shoulder, “F-fuck… So deep. So good. More.’
  325. You grin, and give her a kiss, then lean back and unhook her legs from around your hips, instead stretching them back to have them rest on your shoulders. It’s a good thing the vamp is so flexible. You grab her hands, and pin them above her head, meeting her eyes as you thrust into her from above, your cock ramming into her cervix each time, making her gasp and whine, her breasts quaking with the momentum.              
  327. She tightens immeasurably, but from this position you have more than enough power to force it through, though it wreaks havoc on your own senses, each thrust threatening to bring you to the edge. You clench your jaw and fight through it, but Miriam has other ideas, and her abdomen begins to twitch as she clenches internal muscles, milking your cock even harder.
  329. “Cum in my womb, babe fill me up.” You grunt, hold her hands tighter, and slam your hips into hers, one last time, the tip of your cock actually pushing past her cervix to cum directly into her womb, the hot gouts of seed splashing against the back of her uterus, and filling her to capacity then beyond, inflating her tight belly just the tiniest bit before washing back out around your cock.
  331. Her own orgasm hits as yours does, and she traps you within her, milking your cock of as much seed as inhumanly possible. You lose strength, and slump atop her, her legs slipping out from your shoulders and falling back down, bent at the knee. She holds your head to her breast as you continue to cum and fill her, slowly hooking her legs back over your back to keep you balls deep in her, humming happily to herself. You wrap your arms around her and hold her close as you spurt the last of your seed. Happily, you rub your cheek into her breasts, and close your eyes, settling in for a quick nap.
  334. ***
  336. You wake an hour or so later, still inside your vamp, who is currently snoozing happily before the fire. You pull out, and sit up on your knees, looking over her partially naked form. Your eyes travel down to your own chest, the pendant hanging low on it. Slowly, you take it in your hand, and hold it up before the fire, watching as the flames dance and play across the metal. Miriam’s eyes open, and she regards you silently, not wanting to disturb your train of thought. Not that you really have to think much about it. You know that this is precisely what you want to do.
  338. You meet her gaze, and smile, bringing the pendant to your lips. You press the button in, and the glass shatters, not splintering into shards, but deep cracks run along it all the same, and the blood oozes out, down the metal, and into your mouth. You wait until the last drop lands on your tongue, before swallowing. You grin.
  340. “Merry Christmas.”
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