1. The Vampire Kiss Chapter Fourteen: Passion's Trap


    Date: 12/3/2017, Categories: Fantasy, Anal, Ass to mouth, Oral Sex / Blowjob, Cheating, Cuckold, Lesbian, Straight Sex, Oral Sex / Blowjob, Violence, Voyeur, Wife / MILF, Author: mypenname3000, Source: sexstories.com

    The Vampire's Kiss Chapter 14: Passion's Trap by mypenname3000 Copyright 2016 The scent of feminine lust filled the SUV as Damien D'Angelo drove it through the streets of Chicago, the impending violence exciting Abigail and their women. Abigail sat beside him clad only in her red hair, thighs glistening, eyes dilated, cheeks pale, nipples hard. In her hand she cradled her 9mm automatic handgun with an extended clip. They were all armed. Damien's silver-plated machete hung from his belt, the blade thrust past his seat. He wore his blood-stained combat fatigues. The dried blood stiffened the fabric and formed a mosaic pattern of cracks from his movement. In the back, the wet sound of female masturbation echoed. Rosa moaned, the vampiress consumed by the impending slaughter. Rosa lived for it. Ahead, Faust Tower rose over the city. Though Faust was dead, and the fond memory of his torment and death hours ago was seared into Damien's mind, the Tower still beat with his fester. Father Augustine had usurped the vampire. And Father Augustine held Damien's angel in his soul. A possessive hatred burned inside Damien. He guttered with rage. Tonight, he would paint Faust's Tower with his old friend's blood. Tonight, the priest would die. “They're waiting for us,” moaned Abigail, her thighs writhing together. “Can you hear them? So many waiting.” “Cops,” Damien growled, his attuned senses picking up the crackling of police radios. Through the darkness, spread out around Faust Tower, was ...
    a police cordon. Chicago PD, once controlled by the vampire now belonged to the priest. “Yes,” Rosa moaned as her climax boiled through her. “Yes, yes, we'll tear through the, Sire. We'll carve a bloody path.” Damien grinned and hit the accelerator. The police cordon rushed towards them. His keen senses picked out the cops rushing to take cover behind their cars, aiming their weapons. Unless they were outfitted with silver, Damien had nothing to fear. The engine roared. The tachometer redlined. The accelerometer climbed higher and higher. 60 MPH, 70 MPH, 80 MPH. The blockade hurtled towards them. Damien's held the accelerator to the floor. 90 MPH. The cops opened fired. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Father Hyrum Augustine, the first nephilim to live in 3000 years, grunted as he buggered Joy. The blonde, young woman gasped and moaned in delight, her bowels clenching on the priest's cock, her butt-cheeks jiggling with every thrust. “Yes, yes, yes, Father,” gasped Joy, his slave, his woman, his whore, his warrior. “Fuck me. Ram that cock into my ass.” “Yes,” he growled. “Satisfy my body with your sinful hole.” Lusts burned in the priest. The stronger his body grew the more intense his lusts. All day as he waited for Damien's attack, he had fucked. His office, formerly the weak Faust's, lay strewn with semi-conscious women fucked into orgasmic insensibility. Their holes leaked the priest's cum. He couldn't stop fucking. Even while Damien approached. “Oh, yes, Father. Your cock. ...
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