All I remembered, at first, was that her teeth ripped my flesh.
It was only later, after the wounds began to fester, that I truly began to understand the horror or what I'd experienced.
In the bar, that night, she stood out like a Goddess among the mortals.
Perhaps it was the sheer white dress that clung loosely to her frame as she danced, alone and seductively to the slow song the band was playing.
I don't recall the tune, just her.
Her raven hair flowed luxuriously around her face, creating a canvas upon which was rendered the face of an angel, and the lips of Satan. Lips, the color of blood.
I was transfixed.
The music ended, a dimming of light settled over the dance floor and she turned and looked at me, full in the eyes.
A smattering of applause reached my ears as it occurred to me that I'd read somewhere, that prey, fell victim to the stare of the viper.
The applause died, and I became lunch.
As she moved towards me, feet clenched tight in matching white high heels, my dick began to harden.
I'd had spontaneous erections more than once in my life, but this was something else altogether.
There was a smile on her face, as she looked below my belt.
"Are you just happy to see me?" she asked.
At the sound of her voice, silken in leather, my penis ripped through my pants and shot an enormous load of cum onto the front of her dress.
I was mortified and glanced quickly around the bar to see if anyone had witnessed my awful display. At the same time I was desperately stuffing my embarrassing dick back into my broken pants.
