What We Suck Besides Blood Ch. 02

It was night again, and though my prey and pleasure had gathered their sweaty, sexy overly muscled bodies and moved on into the daylight long ago, I was still sleeping on a couch in the Vampire Ingestion Pad as I'd mentally redubbed it.

Important people? No such thing. I went to the mirror, which, of course, cast no reflection until I chose to expend some of my Sanguinir on it. I was sloshing with the stuff now anyway. Each of the five hunks had agreed to feed me a little of their blood. I'm not sure they were all the vampire-loving types or anything, but as usual, when it comes to persuasion, huge tits.

The club was quiet when I finally went downstairs. I'd been alive long enough that I could always tell when that flaming fucker in the sky had set below the horizon and I was free to move. There were a few pre-stragglers, the kinds of losers who would show up way too early and leave way too late, most were ugly, and, ultimately, would settle for each other when all was said and done.

The hot chicks and studs showed up when they wanted and would leave with whomever they wanted.

There were a few things about this time that I found unnerving. For one thing, there were the phones. After everyone was drained the night before I'd asked about the blinking, strokeable technology, and was surprised to learn they were communicating with people, or looking at some sort of big gestalt brain humans had pieced together.

It was a fascinating thought, like mankind had basically become telepathic while I slept. One even showed me other people having sex on the screen of his; this was an age that would doubtless prove dangerously distracting.

Oh there were other changes. Cars that ran what seemed to be far too quiet, a general lack of serious religious devotion, and what seemed to be endless new options for food and libation. Ah food, I missed that most of all about my mortal life. I'd never been a prolific eater, but centuries of going without had left me somewhat wishing I'd weighed 500 pounds before I'd had my Rebirth. Ah well, at least I suppose I never quite knew what I was missing, only that I was missing something and that can haunt a girl.

This is one of the ways Obsession keeps our kind safe and sane. Without it, we'd focus so much on what we were missing, daylight and water and children. Even an Obsession as undignified as mine was necessary, and other Vampires had all sorts of things to focus on. In my life I'd known great artists, architects, engineers, warriors, lovers and all sorts of other devoted Reborn.

Those vampires too stubborn or remorseful to form true Obsession could not live. Inevitably they chose death, or, through self-neglect, let it choose them.

Well, my Obsession was still satiated from last night's activities, so I devoted my time to roaming around the city, sniffing. I knew that once I smelled a healthy enough repository of Sanguinir I'd have found my kind. As I roamed I was surprised to smell it coming from a museum, and the scent was so familiar I could even name she who bore the aroma. There were security guards, who, judging by their actions when I approached, were largely paid to stand around looking stupid and ogle boobs all day.

"Hey, boys." I said as I stopped in front of them.

"Bwuh-bahhhh, muh, hi miss." One of them finally managed.

"I'm here to see Ophelia. I know she's in there somewhere." They nodded, seeming unsure how to proceed.

"Well don't just stand there, let me in!" I folded my arms impatiently.

The two finally looked to one another and shrugged, and then unlocked and flung the doors opened.

I stalked on clicking heels through the empty art exhibits, my eyes seeing them as clearly as if the rooms were lit. I found her standing before some modernist work with a lot of color and not much substance. She was painting, palette in one hand, defacing what hung on the wall into something far more beautiful. It was elegant the way she destroyed and created as a single action, both erasing and improving what some poor mortal had probably spent way too long on.

It was her Obsession, art, and because she was engaged in it, she could not really hear me enter nor notice my presence. The Obsessions sustain us, yes, but they also bring out our greatest vulnerabilities.

"Ophelia," I said, my voice echoing in the utter emptiness before us.

She dropped the brush and palette with a clatter.

"EVE! YOU RIGHTEOUS BITCH!" Her accent was still lightly French. I knew the little show-off could speak with whatever accent she damned well pleased, but felt that French was somehow more "artsie" so she tended to stick with it. She launched across the room, her age, so superior to mine granting her speed I'd likely never match, her arms lashing out to deliver one harsh slap to each of my cheeks, knocking me a little silly, only then she had wrapped me up in a big full-bodied hug.

I laughed, "Ophelia, good to see you too." I squirmed a little in her grasp, something definitely felt different and I pushed her back, staring down at her tank top.

"What in the name of the night happened to your TITS!?" I was astonished at the size of them, she'd never been flat-chested, but the pair she was sporting now were only a few sizes smaller than my absurd knockers, and suspiciously high on her chest. Rudely I leaned for ward and rubbed my breasts against her again, pressing in a little to gauge consistency.

Now she laughed, stepping back and lifting her shirt, showing off the unnaturally buoyant globes.

"I know what you're thinking, and it's not Talent sister, I wouldn't waste my precious Sanguinir on keeping my boobs big. These are implants!"

"Impwhast?" I blinked.

"Mortals got jealous of us being able to change our parts so they invented a better way of doing it. Instead of all that concentration and draining your valuable resources to upsize, they just stick a bunch of stuff inside and BOOM go the bombs, instant supertits."

"Hm. Think I should upgrade?" I smirked, rubbing my superior size in her face was one of my greatest joys. She might be older, wiser, stronger, faster and debatably my equal at fucking, but even with whatever she'd done to her rack, she still wasn't as busty and probably never would be. Giggling I grabbed her spikey-haired head and wrenched her face into my cleavage, really rocking my tits around her for a moment.

She pulled back and slapped me one last time for good measure.

"You just did that to watch them jiggle." I taunted.

"Bitch." She said, shaking her head and returning to her work. After she was finally done I asked,

"So where do all the vamps hang out now?"

She grinned, "Oh you're going to love this."

***

The sign out front said, "Angst" and the music was a little slower paced than last nights, though it still pounded out through the walls in that same impressive way the other clubs did. In addition to making breasts bigger, humans had really found a way to kick up the bass. When we stepped inside I stopped to marvel.

The customers were young, and almost entirely garbed in either all black or all white. Hair was dyed a crazy range of colors, often two or three or more at once. Almost everyone, boy or girl was wearing makeup, especially thick eye-liner that did nothing to conceal itself the way properly done makeup should. The scent of Sanguinir was thick in the air, this place was either packed with The Reborn, or, they just chose to hang out there a lot.

"They worship us." Ophelia explained as we made our way to a sort of dais. A bright sign that glowed in blacklight said "Reserved" on it. "That's for us." I blinked and sat next to her, marveling at everything I saw. There were definitely some sexy people here I was going to be interested in later, but for the moment I just wanted to take it all in.

The mortals here, for lack of a better term, were Coquettish. They each took time to make furtive glances in our general directions, trying to encourage us to make eye contact even as they were clearly scared to make it themselves. I couldn't help but smirk as I caught a little look of annoyance flicker across Ophelia's countenance, I think because she noticed my tits were the pair drawing the majority of stares now. She might have missed me, but she clearly didn't miss that.

But Ophelia is nothing if not adaptable, and she made that clear when she suddenly reached over and caressed my thigh, lettering her hand get low enough to lift my skirt up with the motion.

She leaned over at the same time and whispered into my ear, "Come on hon, let's give them a show."

I should have known this was coming. Ophelia was considerably more bisexual than myself, and over the centuries she'd never wasted an opportunity to fuck me whenever I'd let her.

I don't dislike the company of women, and some are very good at it, Ophelia especially, but women do not cater to my Obsession, so it's rare I let her.

But I was in a rare mood. I turned towards her, suddenly attacked her mouth with mine, and let our kissing lips melt into one another, her hands grazed over the fabric of my dress and found my hardening nipples, she gave them both a hard squeeze, and in the middle of this so-called "Goth" club, it was on.

***

The kissing was feral, passionate, hot and messy. As much as I may go on about how straight I am, there is just something delicious about Ophelia and as we sucked and kissed at each other's lips, tongue's flicking out for greedy tastes and curling pulls into each other's mouths I had to admit it was definitely turning me on. The nipples she'd pinched were already hard and I began to feel them throb a little in response to my arousal.

I couldn't go on without retaliating her tits, and I grabbed her top and RIPPED it in half. Even she was a bit surprised and gave a little gasp as I dove face first into her splendorous firm titflesh, slowly licking around the full breasts, carefully avoiding the nipples but always getting closer and closer to them, alternating breasts every few dozen licks and laps.

Soon she was squirming, shifting uncomfortably in her chair as I spiraled my tongue around her areolas, and still leaving her succulent little gumdrops neglected.

She'd had enough, and soon she was trying to force the issue, tangling her fists in my long red hair she shoved my face for her nips, clearly angry when I turned this way and that, denying her, letting the mortals in the club get a good view of her inadvertently titslapping the ever-loving hell out of me. When I finally pulled away to her frustrated whimpers my hair was a mussed-up mess and her nipples were still dry.

"What do I have to do to get you to suck my tits, bitch!?" she angrily demanded.

"Get me wet first." I responded, leaning back and spreading my legs wide.

She glared at me, biting her lower lip until it was white, but finally relented, dropping those mammoth bosoms between my thighs and going to work. I lifted my skirt so the audience could see as she could attack my smooth, thick cunt-lips, making out with them with even greater ferocity than she had my mouth, her voracious licks and slurps drawing the cream from me in a chin-polishing flow of moisture.

I stroked her spikey hair, smirking at the audience with a sort of arrogant air of superiority. Then she turned the tables on me! I don't know if she powered her tongue with some unknown Talent or if this was just a trick of the centuries, but suddenly her tongue was a blur on my clit, flicking in and out of her mouth as a speed faster than any vibrator could vibrate.

My face reddened and I gasped for breath, for real, not faking, I couldn't help it this time, and to the delight of the audience I was suddenly squirting. She took some of it in the face, but then angled herself so that my abruptly bursting cunt juice showered nastily into the crowd.

Oh the mortals clamored to lick it up of course, I've been told my juices are like sweet nectar and they did nothing to dissuade me as they tongued droplets from each other's cheeks or opened wide to catch it as it rained through the air.

Ophelia the smug bitch just stood to one side, smiling at her own handy(or tonguey)work as I worked my way through the dense cluster of orgasms. When I was finished I felt week, and barely managed to sit myself upright. Ophelia reached down and cupped my face in her hands.

"I win." I blinked a few times as she leaned in and kissed me deep, sharing my juices with me, then as she pulled back she said, "Let's pick some mortals. You must want some proper deep-dickng after all that." She tore my dress away as she helped me to stand.

I wearily nodded and stood, the pair of us, now both topless made our way through the audience, their hands outstretched to get just a touch of our flawless skin as we passed. Ophelia looked over them all and began to point at our prey.

I should clarify something now. My Obsession is with fucking, that is the thing which sustains me and keeps me going. Ophelia cares only about art, and while she mixes business with pleasure at every opportunity, she wants that pleasure to be visually compelling, to make a statement and above all to strike the eye in some way that is new and forces the viewer to reconsider themselves based on what they see.

When she picks lovers she does not inspect them for superior equipment or musculature the way that I might, no, her picks are much more random. To my relief, she did point out two of the hotter studs in the club, tall muscular boys, but these came along with a short, weedy little number with tousled blonde hair, a few girls, and an anorexic-looking young man with red hair. Ew.

I know, I know, I'm a red-head, and there are a few guys who can pull it off, but most ginger men just do nothing to get my juices flowing. I hoped she was going to let me have the studs. We borrowed a couple of large coats to cover our acres of naked boob and then we were back out into the night.

"I know a good place," I said as we left with our new entourage. She nodded her ascent and followed me the several blocks to my club, "Hedonist" as I'd learned it was called. We led the group up to my VIP room and she began stripping clothes and giving orders for where the pining Goths should stand to receive her sexual blessing.

Fidgety and impatient I finally tapped her shoulder, "Can I have one of the muscle-studs?" I asked.

"Nope." She said. "Actually darling, I'm sorry but you're just not part of this tableau."

I gaped at her. "But..But this is MY club!"

"And these are my Goths. You can stroke your clit and watch if you want."

My face went red as fury rose within me. Decades of absence and this was how she was treating me? I grabbed the studlier of the two stud's arms and yanked, "come on beefcake, we're leaving."

We had only gotten three steps when Ophelia was before me.

"Out of the way, bitch!" I growled.

She casually slid a hand moving at super-sonic speeds between our fingers and pride my grip off. My attempt at a slap only met air and she came back around with a brutal backhand that sent me sprawling. Before I could gather myself she'd grabbed my hair and casually dragged me across the floor, sending me halfway across the threshold with a painful kick in the ass.

Sulkily I looked back over my shoulder on all fours and fought to control my voice so it didn't come out in the injured tone I was feeling.

"Please, give me someone, I need nourishment." It was still whinier than I wanted.

She rolled her eyes, looked over her studs, and shoved the blonde my way. "There. He's rich in gothy goodness. Now kindly fuck off while I get my fuck on."

Thanks for nothing, bitch, I thought as I took the kids hand and led him. We went out to the back alley which was mercifully free of people and I shoved him up against the wall, bending his head away by the hair to get a healthy bite of that neck. He wasn't much to look at, but at least his blood was sweet. Very sweet, in fact, and I had to fight to keep myself from drinking too much, I was clearly going to want him alive later for nutritional purposes.

"You're delicious!" I purred.

"Uh, thanks." He managed. His voice was high, unsure. I'd later learn he was nineteen but he had the look of a couple years younger.

"What's your name?" He asked, finally. "I don't mean to be forward, but uh, you did just, um, drink my blood and all."

"Eve." I said. "Stick with me kid, I'll see if I can't find a way to uh, repay your kindness."

"Well uh, I mean, I kinda went with you guys 'cause I thought I might get laid."

I sighed, "Kid, you're cute and all, but I like real men. Big guys, ya know? But maybe I can find you some mortal girl who'd be into the adorable-puppy thing you've got going on."

He looked a little dejected, but nodded. "Alright. You mind if I take a leak before we go?"

"Knock yourself out."

I could barely remember the constant burden of needs as a mortal. Sure, I missed some of them sometimes but after centuries, the idea of sneaking off somewhere to have water shoot out of me almost felt alien.

I look back as he was finishing up, his pants around his ankles while he trickled the last of his stream against the wall. He bent down to pick them up and my jaw tried to hit the floor. His dick was SO long it swung down behind him as he bent to gather his jeans, to say nothing of the preposterous pair of potato-sized balls dangling behind it. I was staring silently as he got up and buckled his unbelievable cock away.

When he turned to look at me I was still zoned out.

"Erm, Eve, is something wrong?" he asked.

I shook off my daze. "Oh no, kid, no. In fact, something about tonight just went VERY right. You're gonna help me get revenge."