No breakfast for me. Not yet, anyway. I've been peppering Tyler with questions all morning. My curiosity is at its peak, along with a real sense of stomach-churning excitement and dread.
"I know." His hug is comforting.
I feel like a little kid whose father is about to take him fishing for the first time. Can I touch a worm? Will I get sick on the boat? Do I even like fish?
"All sharks like seafood, Zach. We land-sharks seek our own favorite prey. I have two prearranged marks for us today. You would be overwhelmed if your first time was a totally free-hunt one. But first, I promised you would taste me before all others."
I suppose I will get used to this, but when Tyler reaches for the paring knife and does not hesitate to draw it across his wrist, I get a definite rush of chill up my spine. He holds out his hand to me.
"Drink."
Again, the scent of blood, his blood, is too intense to bear. I pull away slightly. He knows I need some time. The cut is not a deep one, just enough to allow a small gurgle of red to breach the surface. I take his hand in mine.
"Your body is ready, my love. Drink."
My lips press to his flesh. The first taste is intoxicating. I begin to suckle at the gash like a baby at a teat. The comparison is not lost on either of us. Tyler sighs as I take him into me.
"Mine! You are mine now. I give you new life. Take me into your body...make me yours!"
Time stands still. My first real taste is so very satisfying and I am quickly at my limit. I sense that my body is accepting of this new 'food', yet needs to adjust to it, as well. My final movement is a long and slow lick across the knife cut. The cut seals almost immediately. There is a new tenderness to his kiss. Our mouths are wet with his own blood. Tyler revels in our tongue play, and his purring is almost cat-like.
"Good. Let's go to our first 'appointment' together."
The building is one I recognize. It belongs to one of the cities major corporations. We are warmly greeted by the lobby attendant, and Tyler whisks us into an elevator, his hand at the small of my back. He inserts a key into an unmarked floor slot. Up we go. The doors open; and the man at the desk smiles at us.
"Tyler, welcome back. He is waiting for you...and your friend..."
"My 'friend' will wait here until I summon him. Get to know each other. Zach and I will be frequent visitors from now on, Jeffrey."
Tyler walks through the inner office door and it closes behind him. I am... No. I am not alone. I have a hot guy named Jeffrey to check out and to talk with. "That you do, Z...let me warm up our breakfast before I call to you." This telepathy thing is real handy!
So, Jeffrey, tell me, how do you like working for a business like this?
"It's great. Really. I get to organize his day, plan the meetings, see that all goes smoothly and has a good outcome. What do you do...Zach?
I'm into good outcomes myself, Jeffrey!
"Please, it's Jeff for you."
He has no idea how true his words really are. The man is gorgeous. I mean truly beautiful in a classical way. He could easily be a model, a network newscaster...a porn star. Even fully dressed his body speaks to me. My thoughts run to undressing him with my eyes; and what I see is magnificent. I once had a friend in college who struck me this way. After a shower, he would stand at the mirror of our dorm room and preen, a small white towel wrapped tightly around his waist. It tented in front as expected. I could not take my eyes off him. His skin was flawless and glistening. Years of weight training had added many pounds of solid muscle to his five foot eight inch frame. He would comb his hair back and as he did so, I would get a glimpse of long damp pit hair. The wetness in my shorts felt good; but I would get paranoid that he would turn to see my wet bulge straining toward him. The vibe coming from Jeffrey is super strong and filled with a passion for his job, for his friends, for his life. It is wonderful to be in his presence. I hope that Tyler is thinking what I am. Jeffrey would make a perfect 'regular' for me; and my mate and I could double-dunk very nicely in this safe and secure rarefied place.
Tyler calls to me. When I enter the large office, I am uncertain of where to settle my gaze. Windows offer a very enticing panoramic view of the city below us. The decor and colors are soothing. One blood-red vase sits on a corner of the large central desk. There is no clutter. There is no sound. There is no Tyler...?
"Touch the vase, Z."
A bookcase...a bookcase-door swings silently open. The small room within is awash in color. I am immediately immersed in sensory overload, yet I settle my focus on the scene before me. He looks to be in his mid forties. A handsome man with a good build. Strong shoulders. Full chest. His tailored shirt clings to his torso like a stiff wet wind is blowing it against his skin. His head is bent backward. His throat...
"Sit next to me, Z."
Mr. Big is relaxed in, what else but a big leather recliner. Tyler is seated on a cushion between his legs. The guys dick, excuse me, at this level of society...his penis, is about six inches of straight, cut, hard and leaking man meat. Tyler has obviously been enjoying himself.
"Marcel and I go back a few years, Z. We met before his promotions, when he was a mere young French office boy eager to fill a new job...and my belly with his sweet warm blood. I took him gently on our second 'date' and have been at his side, his crotch, like this every week or so ever since. He was my first dick-meal, and the only 'regular' source I have. Our first time, I was sucking on his erection when my mind went crazy with blood lust. His penis, fully engorged with the object of my desire, suddenly came to mind as the ideal straw from which to drink his offering. Deepthroated, he was almost at his edge then; and my fangs bit in below the hairline, at the thick and meaty part of his manhood. His climax was more than intense, as warm cum shot into my throat, followed by a steady stream of even warmer blood that found its way into my belly. I shot a brief-soaking load of my own; and then cleaned him off, leaving no trace of any wetness behind. He is at his edge again, Z. I will take his load, and feed my need with his blood. Be ready to do the cleanup work for us. It will ease you into the world of feeding."
Just then, Marcel jerked upright in the throes of his pre-ejaculatory state. The room rang with his cry of orgasm. Tyler's throat bulged with the pulsations of Marcel's throbbing shaft. T then quickly retreated and I went in for the...cleanup. A last rope of cream graced my tongue as I went down on him. It was sweet. Sweeter than Tylers.
"Too much sugar in his coffee!"
