He continued fucking until I was there on the plateau, another climax right around the corner. My hips were writhing, meeting his, and I was groaning with desire. My hand was still pulling his mouth into my neck. I heard him sigh, then felt two little sharp pricks in the tender skin of the lower portion of the soft tissue of my throat where he had been kissing. Just for a moment, he paused with his mouth around that spot, his cock starting to fuck wildly, and the anticipation was a wonderful agony for me. Then he began to suck.

The feeding is like having your whole being sucked into him. It involves a surrender to him, a sense of nurturing him, and an orgasm that is beyond words, or anything human. The release is there, even stronger for me than the first time, but now rising into a rush that is better than a heroin shot, a first drink, the first drag on a cigarette in the morning, than the relief after childbirth. I kept pulling his head to me, but my other arm collapsed to the side, and my legs flailed out so I was spreadeagled there on the bed. He didn't feed long, just a minute or two I think, but he kept his tool inside me, and I felt him gushing deep in my cunt. It's the only time they can have an orgasm.

For me it lasted a good ten minutes. He licked at the spot on my neck, then lay with his head on my boobs as I gasped and luxuriated in the rapture. His dick was soft now, and he let his hand sort of knead and caress my pulsating pussy, as his spunk and my cream kept oozing out. My free hand started rubbing at my body, the excited spots responding to my touch. Then when my mind returned to some sort of control, I looked at him and pulled his head toward me, breathing "More Brad, take some more, do that again."

He chuckled and left me, laying there, returning quickly with two snifters of my good brandy. He pulled me up to a sitting position and gave me a sip. Then he hugged me to his body, and I nestled there, feeling his movements as he sipped on the brandy too. I lay back down and pleaded "Okay, Brad, thanks for the drink, now do it again, please, let me feed you." He leaned down and kissed my mouth, then sort of plumped some of the pillows up, resting them against the headboard, and pulled me up against them in a sitting position.

He handed me a glass, took his own, and lay down with his head on my tummy, facing me, playing with my tits.

"Darling Susan, if I drink too much I will use you up, and you are much too desirable for that. I will return to you tomorrow night, and will feed after your body has replenished itself. But we will make love again tonight. Drink, my beauty. Do not worry, we will share passion many times in your life." It turns out that what they do is develop a harem, so they can feed without killing. He says the last thing they want is to turn people into corpses or vampires.

"That's when they start hunting, my darling. Some jealous husband, jilted wife, religious zealot. We are flesh and blood, not ghosts or spirits. We have learned to be careful."

What happens is that your life separates into two parts. One is the normal, everyday routine of existence, holding it's own pleasures.

They don't dim, or wilt. It's just that their importance declines.

You're calmer, better controlled. I've found I can see things clearer now, without the passions and ego that otherwise color most of our judgements. People's foolishness doesn't anger you. It just goes with the territory.

Because the other part of your life contains all the emotional satisfaction you need. The passion, the desire, the fulfillment are beyond human experience, and it's marvelous. People told me I looked better than I ever had that first year, when he came almost every night. Toward the end, of course, I lost a little weight, but it wasn't all bad. I have never been more content, or happier, since.

Brad always came to me late in the night, waking me with his mind an hour or so before slipping through the window of my bedroom.

That first year, I would try to find new looks for him, spending most of my clothing budget on negligees, filmy underwear, a few of those Fredrick's of Hollywood things, loving to surprise and entice him. He would usually stay away after my period started, for several days. I would eat voraciously, gulping down iron and multivitamins.

He helped me find the right combination so I was generating plenty of blood.

I would lock Todd's door every night, then shower and sleep in the nude. Brad was an incredibly sensual man, and I became as rooted in eroticism as he was. The pleasures my body gave me had never seemed so lovely, so intense. Falling to sleep with cool satin sheets caressing my skin, surrounded by perfume, knowing he would be coming to me, was like being in heaven. Then awakening, his voice whispering in my mind, buzzing with the imminence of his presence, stretching and slowly dressing for him, puttering around in preparation, then for the last few minutes, standing there at the window, waiting.

Then he would be there, embracing me, whispering "Susan, Susan, my beauty, you look incredible tonight." His hands would caress me, slowly, never frantic, stoking me up, making me cream. He always said he loved my pussy's smell, and often would give me my first orgasm kneeling there while I was still wearing the evenings' costume, eating my cunt voraciously, while I supported myself on his head.