::suddenly lost in a vivid fantasy of kneeling on new2's grave::
Roses clenched in my hands so tightly that blood drips from them on to the grave, the red red blood looking obsidian black under the cold light of the full moon. The wind whispers and sighs, and I feel a shudder as something stirs beneath me.
Called by my blood and my desire your pale white arms slide through the dirt atop the grave, their purity unmarred by the loam. Too amazed to be frightened, I fall back on my haunches, clearing space for your torso to rise. The moonlight glimmers on your rings through the diaphanous material of your burial shift, transfixing me. Now your face breaks the plane of your grave, white as alabaster, except for your lips, dark and pulsing with the taste of my blood. Those red, red lips curl in a slow smile as you see my face, your doll-like eyes mirrors in the night, reflecting the play of revulsion and desire roiling across my visage. A smile emerges, because my desire is winning. A smile because, in my weakness and MY need, you KNOW I will give you what you need, what you CRAVE.
The rest of you writhes, no RISES below me, between my legs, and part of me rises with you. I straddle you now, your flawless cold marble body betwixt my thighs, undulating ever so slightly. Groaning unmanfully, I drop the roses to one side and fall upon you, burying my burning lips against your frigid neck, pouring my warmth and heat in to you. Your hands touch me as if your fingers were razor blades, shredding my clothes in to scraps, sliding a bit too deep at odd moments, drawing welters of blood that are absorbed in to your fingertip skin before making runnels of the folds in my flesh.
Resting my weight on my elbows, I slide my hands up in to your hair, cradling your head as tenderly as that of a child, and in a haze of fear, loathing, and pulsing hot lust I lower my lips to yours. You have no breath, but as our lips touch you draw mine in to you, taking my breath and warmth, and, with a soft nip at my lower lip, some of my blood, in to you. Your eyes brighten a bit and I hear you murmur softly against my lips, one hand holding my head close, the other pulling your shift away, our bodies now touching, stroking, rubbing against one another.
Your nether lips are as cold to start as the lips on your face, but as my cock rubs against them, seeping fluid that they take and drink as your other lips feasted on my blood. My juices and heat enter you, become yours, and your flesh warms and slickens beneath me. Your razor fingers touch me there, oh so carefully, but still drawing a small taste of blood, providing the last bit of lubrication needed for me to slip slowly inside you. You are a tunnel of fiery cold, surrounding the flesh of my cock. I gasp, and your other hand releases my head so I can rear it back and breathe.
Against my chest I can feel your heart beginning to beat now, in time with the pulsing of my cock inside your encompassing walls. Those walls squeeze in time, drawing the blood from the skin of my cock, and coaxing other fluids nearer the surface as well. I look down on your face, your perfect porcelain features marked out by the silvered glow of your piercings, your eyes unreadable in their reflection of the moonlight. I know I am forever lost in those eyes, forsaken by the light and my own desires to be lost in your cold embrace. This knowledge, this forsaking of the light, this willful GIVING of myself frees me from some unspoken constraint and with an animal growl I begin to move my body, sliding in and out of you now deliberately, taking some of the rhythm away from your still undulating snakelike hips, rocking in to you with enough force that you would be in pain if you were ali...
...a NORMAL woman.