Blood Lines part 3

[explorer]

He hung up and oh shit did I panic.

I stood up, looked down at myself and my first thought was “clothes.” I need fucking clothes!
I spun around, pulled on a pair of jeans, fell over backwards while hopping on one foot, slid both legs through and stood up.

“On my way,” Mike had said... that gave me about 15 minutes if he drove slow.
Fuck!

I looked around and the place was an utter wreck. Found a pile of blood soaked towels in the corner (where the hell did those come from?), grabbed ‘em, shoved them under the sink, did another wild ass spin and forced myself to slow down.
This was nuts, and I was acting like a fucking idiot.
Grabbed another smoke, chained it halfway down, grabbed a t-shirt from the floor and pulled it on while exhaling.
Cupped the half done smoke in my right hand and reached for the near finished beer while wiping more sweat from my brow.
Polished off the beer, chucked it in the sink (hell, at this point, what’s an empty beer can sitting in the sink gonna matter??). Pulled the smoke up for a final drag and felt something drip down my arm.

And I swear, this happened in the most absolute slow motion you can imagine.
I lifted up my right hand still holding the cigarette, focused and watched a steady stream of blood slide down from the scar next to my smoke and ever so slowly wind it’s way down my forearm and begin splattering on the kitchen table like something you’d see in a bad horror movie.

I dropped the smoke and it sizzled on on the blood filled table.
Grabbled my hand underneath my left armpit.
Stepped back a few paces until I hit the wall and just stood there. Absolutely and completely dumbfounded.
And I watched with a twisted amazement as the blood on the table flowed and did a complete, untouching circle around the pack of Marlboros. Then it (the blood, in case yer not keeping up, ‘cause I sure as hell wasn’t) pulled back into a single, almost pulsing blob, and began to reform into a new shape.
It swirled, moved (and kid you not), fucking rose upwards from the table as it took on a new form.
Not that I really had anywhere to friggin run to, but I just stood there and watched as the hair’s on my neck rose.
It muddled for a few moments and then locked itself into a fucking 3-D form.
One that was the exact same form as the scar on my hand.

How long I stood there, I’ve no idea. I don’t think there’s a real good time measurement for “weird shit beyond hell.”

And yes, total dumbass move you think you’d never do, I leaned forward and touched it with my left hand.
And just when I thought things couldn’t get any weirder, they did.

The shit slid up onto my arm in a heartbeat.
It was cold like ice and I felt it move it’s way up my arm, past my shoulder blade and into my chest.
And like the ice cold of it, I was damn frozen in place, my heart pounding a million miles a second.
What the fuck???

I took a deep breath and then it hit me.
My dick.
Instant, throbbing boner. And one that wasn’t going to wait for release.

I suddenly remember hot little Craig there, still unconscious from getting his fucking head clocked by me earlier. Fucking buck naked with an ass that was screaming for my needs.

I grabbed a smoke, lit it up, pushed him over so I could get full access and licked that juicy ass for all it was worth.
Took another deep drag, spread his cheeks and filled him with my smoke.
Took another drag, tossed the smoke into one of the empty beer bottles from earlier, did a quick grab of some lube from the nightstand and started pounding his hot ass.
It was mean.
It was nasty.
And was exactly what I wanted.

I pulled his head up just enough to suck and bite on his neck so it’d leave a serious mark for everyone to see that this man was mine.

A few minutes of pounding and he stired awake.

I just slammed him harder with one of the biggest, raging hard on’s I’d ever had.
He finally pulled himself together enough to lean up and back his ass into me.

“About damn time,” he grunted.

“Shut up...” I replied, “I got something for you.”

“I think it’s returning the favor,” he said.

I slammed into him harder and he groaned again, holding himself up against the wall with his hands.
“I do recall...” as I pounded harder, “telling you to shut the fuck up.”

And he did.
And a huge part of my brain was saying “what in the hell are you doing??? This isn’t you.”

Fuck that.
This wasn’t sex. This was me dominating this hot fucker.

And when I came inside his hot little ass, it was like nothing I’d ever felt. I didn’t just cum. I FILLED him. Over and over and over.
And when I was fully spent, I pulled out fully, selfishly satisfied.

I rolled back, looked over at him still pushed up against the wall and felt completely, unbelievably awesome.

Leaned over, grabbed a smoke, leaned back to watch him slowly slide backwards, exhaled a thick stream and smiled to myself.

Craig turned around, looked at me without any surprise on his face at all, wiped his suddenly bloody hand on his chest and grinned.

“Welcome to the fold, Tate” he said. “Took yer own damn sweet time about it.”