How To Get Festering Bloody Finger の小説・ストーリー

he responds as he tightens his grip on my hand, making me wince as a tiny blade from his ring pierces my finger, letting blood ooze. Esther was right. They are suspecting me—

Thighs shaking. He added a second finger. Scissored them slow, stretching himself open, feeling the burn turn into that deep, dirty pleasure that made his eyes water. Crooked them, searching—found that spot inside and pressed. His whole body locked up. “Ah—fuck—right there—” Cock throbbed violently in his fist. Another bead of pre-cum welled up, thick and clear, dripping down over his thumb. He smeared it around the head, twisted his wrist hard on the upstroke, focused right under the ridge where it was most sensitive.

I slip another finger in him as I move my fingers in and out and opening them in a scissoring motion. I lean down and capture his lips as I hungerly devour his mouth while my fingers move in and out of him. He bucks his hips as he tries to fuck himself on my fingers. He ends the kiss as he presses his hands against my shoulders, pushing me over and onto my back as he quickly climbs on top of me. The sudden action makes my fingers slide out of him. He quickly attaches his mouth to my neck as he sinks his fangs into me again. I cry out as the pleasure explodes through my body. My cock throbbing.

I walk into the bathroom to wash my hands and grab a cold face cloth, but for some unknown reason, I decide to stick the tweezers in my mouth. “Ah, fuck!” I call out, and the two run inside just as I spit out Gabriel’s blood. “So gross.” “What’s the matter?” Valentine calls as I wash my hands; however, something causes me to stop and close the taps. I look at my hands and frown, then I look up at the two standing in the bathroom doorway and hold up my left hand. “Are you guys seeing this, or am I going crazy after that surgery?” I ask, looking at the weirdest thing on my smallest finger

My fists flew into a nearby tree of their own accord, trying to beat away the suffering within me. I heard something inside gasp in fear, I stopped the beating as the shock lanced me. My fist still hung in the air, blood dripping from my open knuckles. I sniffed, the scent was so similar to the forest I hadn’t picked it out before, but now I was certain it was something separate. It was similar to Hazel but decidedly less delicious. I lifted my bloody fist to the tree and knocked.

It feels like liquid fire expanding in my lungs, a sharp, tearing pressure that cuts off my airway entirely. A harsh, hacking cough rips violently through my throat. I jerk backward, breaking his grip as I instinctively bring my right hand up to cover my mouth, my body trembling from the sudden, agonizing spasm. The taste of heavy iron and copper instantly coats my tongue, warm and thick. I pull my hand away from my lips, my chest heaving as I look down into my palm in the dim twilight of the hallway. Blood. Thick, dark, metallic-smelling blood is dripping from my fingers, pooling in the creases of my skin and smearing across my palm.

My third finger slips in with difficulty, but he soon eases and moans. Pulling my hand out, I look down at it and see that most of my hand is covered in blood. My frown deepens, but I throw the negatives to the back of my head. I get up off the bed and wipe my hand against the sheets. Walking around the bed, I reach my, nightstand and pull out a bottle of lube I got from Cayson.

That's when I got dirty. I stuck my middle finger, slicken by her juice, into her puckered ass, and began working it. In. Out. In. Add a second finger. In. Out. In. Out. Add a third finger. In. Out. In. Spit on the fingers. In. Out. In. Out. The effect was immediate.

“I guess we are going to have to do this the hard way.” I took one of his fingers and placed it between the pliers’ teeth. I paused for effect, but the wolf only glared at me. “Suite yourself.” I clamped down on his finger, and his finger gave a pleasant crunching sound. He screamed. I released his finger and looked down at it. His finger was already turning a purple-reddish color. In about two minutes, the finger would be as good as new, then I could continue.

There were no stairs to get to it. Wings sprouted from her back and she flew to the door. It had no handle for her to turn. But there were several patterns of a dragon’s scales designed on it. She quickly bit her middle finger and touched the door with it. As she expected, blood began to flow out of her bleeding finger at a fast rate. Soon the patterns were all dyed with her blood. She wanted to take back her hand but to her dismay, she could not. Blood kept trickling from her middle finger at an even faster rate.