VANILLA // POLY~wxmxmxmxmxm

★3- Crassius

The Vinians have always been superstitious. Their strong and heavy beliefs starting from Christianity itself to witchcraft, was what they used to keep themselves sane.

Aerians detested them for that, but I didn't mind. They were people who needed some sort of belief, or in other words, hope, for the type of world they lived in.

That is why the fact they called me a Vampire wasn't surprising in the least.

The Aurelius household was known for holding parties and wasting every single dime that could have been given to the people, but I couldn't care less for that sort of thing.

My Parent's still lived with me, but now, they were both free to leave Vino as much as they wanted, while I kept the gates locked and prevented anyone from coming in.

The times the people had seen me was when I had to leave with Stradella for work purposes, and that meant me leaving in a car, but there were other rare times when they would see me at the beach, though that was only at night when I couldn't sleep.

But I suppose the name, Vampire, came from the fact that I took in boys that were being thrown, locked up or hurt for liking other boys as well.

The people believed I either killed them, or turned them to my slaves, none of them being correct.

I did take them in, and give them a chance to either run away, or stay with me and not one had ever chosen to run.

They seemed grateful to me but they had no idea it was my own way of keeping myself closer to her, to Doctor.

She sent me letters, and the one time I had tried to reply, Stradella had intercepted that and burnt it right in front of me and then he punished one of my servants after that, so I let it be.

Since he wouldn't let me reach her, or anyone without someone I cared about hurting, I began craving touch.

I had been learning, in the past, with them to learn how to feel, but after we all went separate ways, I could barely even give a taste to the food that I ate that it became a sort of addiction. To feel something. Anything.

And that is how Omar comes in.

It's dark, but I can hear the sound of my room door opening as he walks in, the light from the stars outside the window in my room lighting the features of his dark skin as I keep staring at him.

He takes his time, shedding off his clothes before he reaches me on the bed, his dark eyes never leaving my face and he bends, taking his hand into my trousers.

When he takes my cock out, his hand gently strokes it, taking his time to see if he can get any reaction from me before he licks the tip.

I still feel nothing.

He knows that, but he doesn't stop. His tongue moves through my length, making sure he gets all of it wet while his hands rubs it all over, then when he's sure I'm wet enough, he strokes me gently a bit before putting me in his mouth.

I feel it this time. My dick had gotten cold when he stopped playing with it, but now the warmth in his mouth soothes it, his tongue still expertly brushing the tip before I reach out to touch his hair, fiddling with the curls before shoving him down.

He gags and tears pool in his eyes but he doesn't stop, his eyes keep staying on mine as he even tried taking all of me in.

I close my eyes, throwing my head back as I squeeze his hair, my breath coming out with steams as a sensation burns from my stomach down to my toes making me push his head down faster.

As always, Omar doesn't complain, even moaning on it when he realizes that makes me let out hisses while drool pours out of his mouth.

He's too good at this.