an excerpt

AND NIMROK DRAQUAL of Bal-Derah, until recently a farmer of cotton, does - finally! - fuck his handsome cousin Kalil Draqual of Uruk, who is a weaver; Nimrok having wanted incestuously to fuck this particular tight-ass relative (and, by An, The god of Heaven, Kalil's rectum is vise-like), for the whole of the preceding evening and night.

That it has taken Nimrok this long to get his thank-An still-hard cock up Kalil's asshole - only after the feasting on innocents, all that blood sucked dry, has turned into the feeding frenzy of vampire feeding upon vampire, Draqual feeding upon Draqual, each and every six participating family Draqual members turned blood-glut languid and listless by excess - is because Kalil, so stunningly handsome with his abundance of curly dark-black hair, hairy muscled body, horse-like cock, and bull-like balls, and firm cock-hardening ass, has been in much demand, as top man and bottom; Nimrok, so recently recruited from the less-civilized countryside, is exceedingly low as regards the family hierarchy, and has not dared make his move until now, having not previously been paid much mind by Kalil who has obviously preferred encounters with the more sexually experienced members of the family sextet than with his country-bumpkin cousin.

"Yes - yes - yes," Nimrok complements himself on having endured the wait, managed the crawl across the floor, achieved the lifting of Kalil's legs, put cockhead to the small hair-parenthesized mouth of Kalil's hairy asshole, plunged cock deeply into funky corridor made surprisingly none the less tight by the cocks and the cum that have preceded.

"Ugh - ugh - ugh," Kalil grunts in favorable response to his cousin's efforts to prove that - just because Nimrok hasn't learned his fucking skills in the city - the country hick knows more than enough to hold his own.

Kalil, so cock-plowed, hasn't expected Nimrok to be so damned good. He knows his brothers Gandish and Sargash can fuck and be fucked like whores, because Kalil has screwed around with his siblings since, one after the other, they achieved puberty. He knows his father, Baldum, can fuck and be fucked like a whore, because his father has taught his sons all they know. He knows his uncle Rawludium can fuck and be fucked like a whore, because Rawludium and his brother were well-known for their exploits before Kalil or Gandish or Sargash ever entered the picture. But Nimrok, so recently recruited and brought to the city, by way of promotion in the family, and by way of promotion in the family business - who would have guessed he was so good a cocksman, obviously having so little to take by way of example except whatever animals he-d encountered fucking in the wild or contained in the roughshod pens of mud-brick country hovels?

As the screw progresses, Kalil enjoys it so much that he wonders if he isn't about to experience, despite all of the blood- and cum-draining that just came before, one of the major fucks of his life. Very strange, because Kalil isn't impressed by Nimrok's looks and/or physique - all gangly skin and bone and so little body hair as to seem newly plucked - even as the kid's upper body presses more and more firmly against the backs of Kalil's uplifted legs, even as the kid's cock works its magic

"Oh, shit, you are good," Kalil admits to Nimrok and to himself; why not give credit where credit is due?

Nimrok thinks, "Ditto, cousin of mine! You can say the same for your tightly gripping asshole. More, please, and thank-you."

Still, Kalil can't put any real definition to the "what" or the "why" or the "how" of this fuck being such a damned good one. Too weird! Too crazy even to think about it. Better just to enjoy his good luck.

Nimrok shoves his dick in, one more time, all of the way to his balls. His weight pushes Kalil's legs even closer to his cousin's hairy torso, giving Nimrok a very good look at Kalil's handsome face - something so sexy about such long-lashed black-black eyes, Kalil's pink lips slightly agape and his nostrils in actual flare.

"Oh, yes - my young stud-cousin from the boonies," Kalil encourages, "show this city-slicker what ass-fucking is really all about."

What in the fuck is going on? What in the fuck is happening?

Nimrok leans in even harder, his chest almost touching Kalil's chest, Kalil's lifted legs pressed in between them.

Kalil's multiple-bit neck is close, and can be Nimrok's to bite, too - will soon be Nimrok-bitten 'as soon as Nimrok is sure -.

"I'm going to fill your asshole with an overflow of cream!" he promises the cousin he rides.

Four hearty fuck strokes later, Nimrok's nuts about to rupture, the young man puts his mouth to his cousin's throat, opens wide, and sinks his fangs in - in - in -.

Orgasm - delicious orgasm - is made more delicious by Nimrok having fucked Kalil into mutual climax. Kalil's furry-scrotum balls shoot - shoot - shoot - cum through Kalil's spasming cock to web the hirsute man's hairy belly and hairy chest while Nimrok's exploded cum cascades cock-poked anal mouth to soak Kalil's hairy asscrack and Nimrok's contracting balls.

Mind-blowing! Cum-erupting! Gonad emptying!

"Oh, bloody fuck!" Nimok concludes. His eyes are shut; he opens them. He sees Kalil seeing him. Kalil's eyes dilate farther. Kalil's large hands are suddenly to Nimrok's face, holding tight and squeezing.

Nimrok expects an appreciative kiss; wants it.

"I think I'm dying," Kalil says instead.

"I feel the same way," Nimrok returns in kind what he assumes is a complement on his sexual prowess.

"Really dying." Kalil's smile is wide, even radiant.

"Sure you are," Nimrok plays along. A vampire doesn't die except in the sunshine or from a stake - a wooden one, not a fleshy one - stabbed deep - not into the asshole but into the heart.

Kalil sighs, low, and then ceases making any sounds whatsoever. His eyes remain open, but their blackness is -

"Fuck! Fuck!" Nimrok exclaims.

His cock comes free of Kalil's shit- and stale-cum-voiding asshole.

He scrambles to his feet; his swiftly softening dick drools the mess which comes with it.

"He's fucking dead!" Nimrok screams to his fellow family members who are piled together and separately, in one state of undress or another, in one state of sexual and feeding-frenzy exhaustion or another, amongst the several blood-drained corpses littering the room. "I-ve fucking killed him!"

"Killed who?" Gandish wants to know. The last of the innocents has been blood-sucked into nonexistence long ago.

"Kalil is dead!" Nimrok is border-line hysterical. "Fucking - fucking - dead!"

No one who hears him believes him. They're all vampires, here, conscious within that room. Kalil is a vampire. Vampires lived forever, unless they die by sunlight, or by wooden stake to the heart.

"You may think yours is a fuck to die for, country cousin," Sargash chimes in wearily, "but don't think you're so good that you can fuck to death a fellow vampire."

"Kalil!" Gandish screams in the general direction of his handsome brother's sprawl. "Quit playing silly games. You have poor little Nimrok ready to shit pants he's not even wearing."