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I sit in the darkest corner of her bedroom. She's at it again, hacking away at her arms with that old razor blade.
"Why don't you at least get a new one?" I ask her.
"I like the feel of the dull edge digging away at my skin," she says, her voice betraying no emotion.
I try not to watch her but can't help myself. There is something I find so exquisitely sexy about her cutting herself and wiping the blood all over. I love the blood, although I try not to. There is something inside of me that says this is wrong, that something is definitely wrong with this picture. But that something usually gets pushed aside quite quickly and soon I am kneeling in front of her-holding my breath as I wait for the last stroke that will allow me to be drenched in her warm, dark blood.
Finally she is there, hitting the vein. She holds her bleeding arm above my face and I close my eyes, allowing it to drip over my eyelids and down my nose.
She hands me a syringe. With shaking hands I take it and insert it into her vein, pulling up on the plunger to bring her life fluid out. I feel like I am taking the very essence of her, she moans in ecstasy as I slide it out of her. I tilt my head back, placing the syringe on my lips and depressing the plunger, shooting into my mouth.
She takes the syringe from me and beckons me close, we share a long lasting kiss, our tongues squishing the liquid. She inserts the syringe into her vein, filling it up for more fun.
"Lay back," she tells me, and I do, my legs up, shaved cunt exposed. She inserts the syringe into my pussy, her blood mixing with my come. I love her.
She is down on the floor with me now, her tongue working wonders. She is sucking all of her own blood back, my hips twitch as her tongue finds my clit, she sucks on it hard, her arm is still bleeding and she rubs it across my breasts, smearing me red.
I sit up, leaning back against the bed. Her mouth makes me believe in magic. I glance around at all of our cutting supplies, and reach for a small scalpel, my favorite tool. I slice into my arm, trying not to re-open an already healing scar, instead wanting to form a new one. The first cut hurts, it always does.
Soon the blood is pouring out of me and she raises her head for the shower. I let loose all over her face, squeezing my arm, causing more and more to come out. She rises now, taking my blood and smearing it over my own body. She is painting my body, making me beautiful.
I reach for her, pulling her down in a spectacular kiss. I push my fingers in her pussy and begin fucking her, my soaked digits moving in and out with a maniacal fury. I can feel her silky walls clenching around me, her hips rising.
"No," she gasps, "not yet."
I straddle her, holding her down between my thighs.
Picking up my scalpel, I draw it across my chest right above my swelling tits. The blood trickles down my body, running faster as I cut deeper. I rub my hands in it, covering my breasts with the sticky liquid. I put my hands over her face, down her neck, massaging her tits, than ramming my fingers back into her. I am tweaking her hard clit at breakneck speed, her legs tighten around my waist, as if she too, wants to squeeze out more life. Her back arches. "Yes, fuck yes," she cries. I keep going, faster and harder, she orgasms over my hand, her come mixing a final time with my blood.
She lies still and I lower myself beside her, stroking her sweaty hair. I love her afterglow, listening to her breath calm, her chest still pulsing, but her body not moving. She makes me feel alive. I believe I am immortal.
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