Your own, which you pull tree of your trousers, curves slightly in toward your stomach. His is thick and hard. Your own is longer than your hand, curv...d slightly, and shimmering with moisture at the tip.You can smell his desire and it fills you with a powerful need of your own. With a low growl, you grip both of their members, his and yours, and stroke."Oh!" He arches his back, his head thrown back in ecstasy.You lean down and press your fangs against his throat. You don't break the skin, but. Thisscene here didn?t take place in some cold and clinicalhospital room, his death would be as inevitable thereas it was here, in his home, with his family. When he requested to see his old high schoolyearbooks, I quickly complied. I figured he wanted tohave a look at his old glory years one last time. Andglory years they were, what with him being thevaledictorian/ star pitcher of the baseball team.High school hadn?t been nearly so kind to me up to thatpoint, but I digress. I returned to his. More

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