All Souls Pass
Part
Five: The
grip in Macy’s hair tightened. “Fangs.” York hissed out. The
word startled Macy because he was quickly loosing as much control as his lover
and had forgotten to be careful. The sharp points could, and in the past had,
tear the delicate skin on York’s cock. Which didn’t cause a great deal of
pain due to the nature of Macy’s saliva but always pissed his lover off and
caused him to pout afterwards. He figured he had pushed hard enough bringing
some street hustler home that he wouldn’t risk further upsetting York, so he
paused in the rapid, hard blow job to further curl his lip over the sharp
points. “No.”
York tossed his head. “No.” He pulled Macy away from his groin until pale
green eyes glanced up to his own. “It’s okay.” He panted out. “Okay.” Understanding
was slow to dawn in Macy’s mind but when it clicked in he moaned. “Oh, fuck
me.” Which only made York laugh darkly. “You’re sure?” He was painfully
hard at the mere thought but was careful to check to make sure he didn’t
misunderstand. York
nodded and wanted to swear at the pause. Of all the times for Macy to decide to
be careful, this wasn’t a good one. There
was no pausing a second time. Macy took the hard length solidly in his hand and
picked a spot close to the root. Very slowly, he slid York back into his mouth,
inch by inch, until he’d gone almost as deep as he could. York moaned,
twitching in the need to hold still. With extreme care, Macy let one of his
fangs puncture the tender flesh, just deep enough to allow a small amount of
blood to well up but not deep enough to really hurt. The wound would seal and
look more like a small insect sting within moments but for now, it added a new
pleasure to the situation. Like
the kid on their bed, it was the taste of York’s blood that had first
fascinated him. It was something dark, hidden, secret, a flavor he couldn’t
really put words to. It tasted nothing like any food he’d ever had but
reminded him of the flavors of food. Sometimes, he thought York’s blood tasted
like some perfectly aged, expensive port wine. Thick and flavorful, intoxicating
and rare, it coated his tongue and left him drunk with the want for more. Other
times, he was reminded of dark, rich, wild berries. The kind that grew in high
mountain forest glades, not the tame, blend berries from in stores. It was a
taste of cool shadows and sweet isolation. There
was nothing like the taste of York’s blood. Nothing, not in all his years had
he found anything he hungered for more. Being allowed to mingle that delicious
flavor with the salty bitter taste of his lover’s release was as close as Macy
could imagine to perfection. Each time he bobbed his head, swallowing deeply his
lover’s length, that small wound trickled the tiniest taste into his mouth. It
made him desperately hard, moaning as he did his best to please his amazing
human lover as much as he was being pleased. From the sounds of York’s broken
breaths and panting moans, he was doing a good job. “No.”
York shuddered. “Not enough!” He pulled at Macy’s hair, forcefully
removing the pleasure that was only driving him more insane, raising more energy
instead of burning some off. “Need you.” He groaned as Macy glanced up with
those near glowing green eyes. “Need you.” “Fuck
yeah, baby doll, fuck yeah!” He leaned forward one last time to offer a final,
healing lick to the small wound before he sprang to his feet. York nearly tore
the flannel boxers from his body before he could get them lowered. Rough,
forceful, hands turned Macy around and pushed him forward against the bathroom
counter. Which was one of his favorite places to fuck in the loft, the counter
gave a good solid something to hold onto and the mirrors let both men watch each
other. Not that York ever really watched, he tended to keep his eyes closed, but
Macy found it hot. It
was also one of his favorite places because they kept a stainless steel lotion
bottle filled with lube right there. Which was a good thing because he wasn’t
going to let York stop long enough to find lube and frankly, he wasn’t sure
the human would have stopped. They’d long since learned to make sure lube was
on hand in every room of the house because at one point or another, one of them
was being fucked roughly and spontaneously near by. York
kicked his legs apart and Macy wiggled himself into a comfortable position. One
of York’s arms reached across him to the lube, pumping out plenty, and Macy
planted wet, dragging kisses against the flesh, nipping and kissing any skin
that came within reach. Every point of contact made York moan and Macy grinned
lewdly as he watched the desperate way his lover tossed his head back while
pausing to glide the lube on his own cock. There
was no warning after that, hands fell to Macy’s hips and pulled his ass back.
There was no prep, no pause, no gentle joining, York moaned and with one long,
hard thrust, took Macy. It made the vampire arch and a long, keening moan
tumbled from his mouth. York had his eyes shut, gasping for air, consumed in as
much pleasure as Macy was, flesh no longer chilled from the cold water but damp
with sweat and hot from passion. York
was really letting go, grunting in softly muted little animal noises which
pulled echoing little grunts from Macy. The slender, strong hands he loved so
much were gripping his hips hard enough that if he bruised, would have raised
bruises. He loved it, every second, every thrust, every sound, it was just what
he’d been missing all night and Macy shuddered and moaned and let his lover
fuck him silly. “Almost!”
York panted and forced his eyes open and saw the same aching need in Macy’s
eyes. The
hand returned to his hair and Macy let it pull him almost to standing, York
never lost his savage pace as he pulled his lover closer. It wasn’t an embrace
Macy fell into but York’s one hand did slid under his arm and across his
chest, holding him in place. Macy moaned louder as York closed his mouth on the
back of his shoulder, it wasn’t a tender kiss, strong teeth dug in to the
flesh where Macy’s shoulder joined his neck. He nearly came when York bit hard
enough to break the skin. The pain was sharp and violent and intensely erotic,
he nearly screamed as he bucked harder back against the cock taking him so
roughly. The
sound pushed York over the edge and his sucking mouth let go of the bite long
enough to give a tortured moan as he came, pulling Macy harder against his cock.
Only, as the wave of pleasure eased, he was still hard. “Almost.” He moaned
against Macy’s neck. “Almost.” He whispered again before returning to his
long, hard thrusts. Instead
of suckling on the bite he’d already made, York bit him again. It startled
Macy, made him jerk in tormented pleasure. “Oh, fuck, yes!” He hissed as he
watched his lover drinking from him and agreed it was almost enough. Macy
groped and found one of York’s arms and had to pry it from it’s strong grip
that it held onto his body. He raised it up, turning it so the thin skin of the
man’s wrists was exposed, and without permission, bit into his lover. This was
no small trickle, no tiny beads of red but a real bite. The blood filled his
mouth, like piercing a ripe pear and the juice filled his senses. York moaned as
the tingling pleasure of being fed from poured down upon him and Macy drank
deeply. Just
like biting into a ripe pear, that first burst didn’t last and the blood eased
to a smaller flow and began to diminish. Pleasure and lust and delight filled
Macy and without a single touch to his cock, he lost all control and came. It
was as hard as he was being taken and he was blinded by his own release. For a
moment, he sucked harder at the healing wound, not noticing in his rapture that
it was closing, just needing to be fed and fed from, pleasured and a source of
pleasure. He was so lost in the stunning moment that he barely felt himself
collapse onto the counter, barely felt the fire of York’s second release fill
him, barely heard the human’s choked gasps. He clung there, York a welcome,
exhausted weight along his back and some small part of his mind knew that York
had managed to burn off the last of the extra energy he’d been unable to
absorb. “Mission
accomplished.” Macy giggled weakly and let himself slid off the smooth
counter, spent and happy, to puddle on the floor around wet clothes and a
panting human. York
moaned softly, clouded by exhaustion and sleep, and managed to get half pillowed
against Macy before letting his head drop. “Oh, God.” He sighed. “That
was…” “Hot.”
Macy finished and giggled again, petting a hand over York’s short hair. “If
you fall asleep will you sleep for a week like that time outside of Madrid?” Just
hearing sleep mentioned made York yawn wide enough to make his jaw pop. “No,
just tired…” He sighed and knew he was about to fall asleep right there,
naked, on the bathroom floor. “Then
sleep, silly, I’ll look after you, wake you before the kid stirs.” He pulled
the groggy human closer and petted him the way he would a cat until York drifted
off to sleep. It
was an odd habit the human had. He could stay awake forever if he had to, if he
was around strangers but with Macy, York could drift off two thirds of the way
asleep and rest without waking. Macy could do anything to the man when he was
out of it like this, and over the years it had been a useful knack. If led, York
would even continue to walk while half asleep, or balance on a bike or horse, or
even be led through simple tasks like eating. He’d wake later, after getting
real sleep or not, and be alert and able to continue. The
trust astounded Macy. Doubly so since it was from York, a man that trusted
nearly nothing outside of his own power and yet here he lay. York drifted in
that odd twilight sleep of his, waiting to be guided to bed, trusting Macy
totally. “Shower
first, lover.” Macy whispered and kissed the top of the head pillowed against
him. “Up we go.” He stood up and half hauled York to his feet. The
human muttered in sleepy protest but stood and with his head lolling, followed
Macy’s lead into the shower. It was disconcerting, how York’s eyes would
flutter open but the eyes there would be glazed and unfocused, obviously asleep.
Once guided into the shower, York held a hand out and braced himself against the
one wall. He swayed but stayed standing, his eyes going fully shut and dropping
deeper asleep while he wasn’t required to move. Macy
hummed happily to himself, a tune that was so old he’d forgotten where he’d
picked it up. The water was hot this time, steamy, and it made the half healed
bites on his shoulder sting. He grinned and got them rinsed and soaped up,
stealing a grope on his lover while washing him. It earned him a sleepy protest
and a groggily batted hand, a reaction that Macy grinned wider at. The hot water
washed the suds away, Macy taking care to be gentle and not get soap in York’s
eyes and wake him all the way up. Every time he got within York’s personal
space, the human was leaning on him, cuddling in against a shoulder and making
happy little sleepy sounds. He
got the water off and York mostly dried off before leading them back into the
bedroom. There was no point in re-dressing his sleepy lover, York wasn’t body
shy by any means and the bed was plenty big enough that the two human could rest
on either sides and not touch. It took only a little push on York’s shoulder
to get the human under the pulled down covers. York muttered again, snagged an
extra pillow and tucked it under his stomach and legs as he rolled over, falling
on his side and instantly, deeply, asleep. That
made Macy laugh. “Humans are so odd.” He found his now cold tea and crawled
onto the big bed, naked himself, to sit and sip it while he watched the pair
sleep. York
was dreaming of sandalwood. He was in a room thick with the cloying smoke. It
clung to his skin, filled his nose, distorted his senses and was making him
lightheaded. Shapes moved in the smoke, faces of friends long gone hurried close
and when he chased after they disappeared into the scented fog. He tried to call
out to them but whenever he opened his mouth it filled with the smoke and stole
his words. It was driving him crazy, shattering his heart and he wanted to weep
in his frustration but the smoke was stealing everything. A
gentle hand stroked his shoulder. It wasn’t from within the smoke. The touch
stroked his head, his face, kisses landed on his forehead, on his hands. Like a
soap bubble popping, the dream vanished and York startled awake. He was sprawled
out on his back, the covers partially wrapped around him and pushed down with
Macy sitting across his lap. “You
were dreaming.” The dark haired vampire whispered and for a moment looked
serious and concerned. York
smacked a hand out and rubbed his sleep fogged eyes. “Yeah.” Macy
leaned forward and gently kissed the groggy lips below his own. “Kids waking
up.” He whispered again as he withdrew, sliding off of York’s sleepy body to
pull on clothing. York
sat up and let his feet hit the cold floor. He took a moment, leaned forward
over his knees, to rub the back of his head and try to shake off the lingering
grief his nightmare had left him with. Sleep had done little to make him feel
rested but he knew he was good for awhile without more, even if he wanted to
crawl back in and get another eight hours, hopefully, uneventful hours, of
sleep. With a yawn and a stretch to his shoulders he staggered all the way from
under the covers, off the bed and in search of clean clothes. “I
tossed his clothes in the washer.” Macy announced, throwing boxers and socks
at York when he dug out some for himself. “Just went into the dryer.” He
snorted as he pulled on the plain blue cotton and the thick socks. “Didn’t
look like that t-shirt could survive a good washing, thought the dirt was
holding it together.” “They
smelled.” Macy wrinkled his nose and slid into his own undies, this time there
were green and red chili peppers across them with the words ‘hot stuff’
printed across his ass. “They
smelled like the street, kid’s probably homeless.” He yawned again and dug
out loose cotton pants and a t-shirt that had Einstein sticking his tongue out
printed on it. “Can
he stay for dinner?” “Macy.” “Come
on, the thing is skin and bones, doesn’t look like he’s had a solid meal in
weeks! I’ll cook!” Macy
was right, the kid was obviously not eating right. Even he couldn’t be so cold
as to turn the boy out if Macy could convince him to stay for food. “We’ll
see, let’s get him awake first, figure out what he is and then worry about
feeding the stray. And at least put pants on.” The
vampire rolled his eyes but dug out a loose comfortable pair cut with an almost
Middle Eastern width and flare, the outer side of each leg was heavily
embroidered with dark red thread and small mirrors. Macy liked to wear them when
they’d play Persian Prince and his love slave or Sinbad instructing his new
sailor or a dozen other silly role playing games Macy thought up. It made York
wonder what was on his lover’s mind and hoped they could get the poor kid out
of the door before Macy tried anything lewd. “Coffee’s
made too.” Macy added, pulling on a matching black vest with the same thread
work pattern and not bothering with a shirt. It was almost, but not quite,
looking like a costume and left him in that grey area between super cool rock
star sex god and total dork. “Coffee
works.” He nodded and yawned again and wondered what time it was and how long
he’d slept. “Food too, I’m starving.” Macy
let York wandered down the stairs ahead of him and as his lover stretched and
yawned and scratched his ass he shook his head and swallowed the lewd remark he
instantly thought of. There would be time enough for dirty thoughts, right now,
he wanted to get York awake so they could figure out what was sleeping in their
bed. Remember.... This story is being updated a day
sooner on the website! www. sapayne.com so check it out and also come by for
random PWP posts in the finished stories that occasionally pop up in the public
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