This story has been set to a rating of NC-17. Age verification is required to proceed.
You have always been a slave,
you just couldn’t see the chains
(W W-P from Angel)
Chicago Friday afternoon – Bette Porter’s house
Tina has just arrived from the university, where she has transferred from New York since six months ago.
She closes carefully the curtains of the hall outside the bedroom and opens the door, closing it again; her heart is pounding, she senses her proximity.
She has felt her presence, since noon, even being a few miles away, when she was in class; she has felt the craving for having the brunette skin under hers.
In the beginning, when she moved from New York, it was hard to focus in the lectures, and it was worse in the lab; those days she couldn’t believe she could pass the courses, all she wanted was to feel her girlfriend all over her body and mind; but she made it, she passed successfully all her courses; nonetheless she never stop feeling the need to make love to the brunette even in the long distance.
Her lover used to be violent and tender; first, sweet words, hands playing, confessions deep looks, smiles; then the kiss, always the point of non-return, feeling her tongue inside playing with hers, makes her wet, as if invisible energy were penetrating between her legs and her folds; it always made her feel the tremors of her sexual arousal; her inner walls inside her folds, contracting, squeezing her insides craving for more. At that point, there was always a moan, an almost imperceptible pleading to her lover; giving with that the fuel needed to ignite and feed the flame in the brunette.
Yes, Bette always understood her very well since they met; her fears, her ideals, her emotions, her needs, and soft points; whenever they were, in the dancing club, in the ancient mansion, in the park, but especially on the bed. The love and understanding of the brunette was an attribute of her human nature; the ability to invade Tina’s thoughts, needs, and desires, even when they were far from the other was part of her vampire skills as it was her intensified sexual desire.
And now, in the darkness, the blonde walks toward the bed and sits in the side, where the owner of her soul and body is defenselessly lying. The naked tanned body, barely covered by the bedsheet, the beautiful face where a few dark locks are covering the tanned forehead are making Tina smile; all that magnificence, the gorgeous, brawny, and delicate body belongs to her. Tina knew each inch of the skin, the moles, the scars, the sweet folds, the pubic hair, every groove and hole in this body are her joy and her condemnation, a life sentence she willingly accepted when she moved from New York.