The Sexy Vampire Next Door

She moved in on a Tuesday.

Alina Virelli. That's what the landlord said her name was. Twenty-six. Quiet. Paid six months' rent upfront. Wore sweaters in the dead heat of July, always with sleeves pulled halfway over her hands. Her windows stayed shut. Curtains drawn. She never came outside until the sun had dipped, and even then, only to take slow walks in long, black dresses that clung to her hips like silk painted over flesh.

Julian watched from his bedroom window. He told himself it was just curiosity. He had a wife, Marissa--sweet, sunny, always in bed by 9:30 with her pink satin sleep mask and lavender lotion hands. He loved her. He still fucked her. But he couldn't stop staring at Alina.

And then the dreams started.

Every night, he'd wake soaked in sweat, his cock hard as rebar, his sheets clinging to his thighs like glue. In the dreams, a woman mounted him in total darkness--he never saw her face, but her body was burned into him: pale skin that shimmered, tits that bounced gently as she rode him, thick thighs wrapped tight around his waist, and a pussy that squeezed his cock like it needed to drain him dry. She never spoke. She fed. She fucked. She left him empty.

⸻

Friday night. Marissa was gone--off to her sister's for the weekend. Julian jerked off in the shower twice just to clear his head. He poured himself a whiskey. Settled in bed. Closed his eyes.

And woke up to a weight on his lap.

Not a dream.

Alina. In the flesh. Straddling him in black lace lingerie, tits out, eyes glowing green. Her pussy already grinding on his cock through his boxers. She didn't say a word. She bit his neck--gently, just enough to break skin--and moaned when he gasped.

"You remember me now," she whispered, voice rich and thick like honey and ash.

He tried to speak. She covered his mouth with hers and kissed him like she was starving.

Then she sat up and ripped his boxers open.

⸻

She slid down on his cock in one slow, hellish motion. Tight. Hot. Wet. His breath caught. She smiled.

"That's it," she whispered. "You feel bigger in real life."

She rolled her hips, slow and deep, grinding her clit on his pubic bone while her pussy milked him in steady, pulsing waves. Her hands were on his chest, her nails dragging down lightly, leaving trails of heat.

He tried to thrust. She slapped his chest lightly. "No. I ride."

And she did. Hard. Until the bed creaked, her tits bouncing with each slap of skin. He came once--and she didn't stop. She just laughed, licked her lips, and fucked him through it.

⸻

She turned around, crawled up his body, and lowered her soaking cunt onto his mouth. "Drink," she whispered. "I fed on you. Now give it back."

Her thighs locked around his head. Her pussy was soaked, dripping onto his lips. He sucked her clit. Licked deep. She howled. Her thighs trembled, her hands in his hair, pulling hard.

She came on his face, grinding until he couldn't breathe. Then she looked down and kissed him, licking her own juices off his lips.

⸻

She got on all fours, crawling to the foot of the bed like a predator. Then she arched her back and looked over her shoulder.

"Take it. Show me how human men fuck."

He knelt behind her and slid in deep. She gasped. "Yesss..."

Her ass bounced. Her pussy gripped his cock like a fist. He slapped her ass. She purred. He went harder. Faster. Deep pounding thrusts while her moans echoed off the walls. She reached between her legs, rubbing her clit while he wrecked her from behind.

When he came, she bit the mattress and screamed, cumming at the same time, her body shaking.

⸻

She pulled him down, slid his cock back inside her, and wrapped one leg over his.

"Slow now," she whispered. "I want to feel every inch."

And he gave it to her. Deep, slow strokes while she held his hand over her belly, her eyes closed, biting her lip. She told him to talk to her. Tell her how good she felt. How much he needed her. He said it all.

She came again just from the rhythm. Her body was trembling, glowing, soaked in sweat and cum.

⸻

She turned to face him. Sat on his lap. Wrapped her legs around him and lowered herself onto his cock. She was trembling now. Wild. Her lips kissed every inch of his face. Her eyes locked to his. And she rode him like she wanted to merge with him.

"Fill me," she begged. "I need it. All of it."

He came a third time. He didn't know how. She fed again. Her body shimmered. Her fangs showed. She moaned like a goddess being fucked back to life.

⸻

She bent over it, ass up, her pussy dripping. "Finish me," she whispered.

He slammed into her. No gentleness. Just need. Her ass rippled with each thrust. She looked over her shoulder and smiled--blood on her lips, cum on her thighs.

He came inside her one final time.

And then she turned around... and kissed him like she owned him.

"You're mine now," she whispered. "And soon... she will be too."

She vanished into mist before his eyes.

⸻

His neck bled. His cock was raw. The sheets were soaked. He staggered into the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and saw a faint bite on his chest... and a lipstick print just above his cock.

He heard the front door open. Marissa was home.

And his cock was already getting hard again.