Mine!

No breakfast for me. Not yet, anyway. I've been peppering Tyler with questions all morning. My curiosity is at its peak, along with a real sense of stomach-churning excitement and dread.

"I know." His hug is comforting.

I feel like a little kid whose father is about to take him fishing for the first time. Can I touch a worm? Will I get sick on the boat? Do I even like fish?

"All sharks like seafood, Zach. We land-sharks seek our own favorite prey. I have two prearranged marks for us today. You would be overwhelmed if your first time was a totally free-hunt one. But first, I promised you would taste me before all others."

I suppose I will get used to this, but when Tyler reaches for the paring knife and does not hesitate to draw it across his wrist, I get a definite rush of chill up my spine. He holds out his hand to me.

"Drink."

Again, the scent of blood, his blood, is too intense to bear. I pull away slightly. He knows I need some time. The cut is not a deep one, just enough to allow a small gurgle of red to breach the surface. I take his hand in mine.

"Your body is ready, my love. Drink."

My lips press to his flesh. The first taste is intoxicating. I begin to suckle at the gash like a baby at a teat. The comparison is not lost on either of us. Tyler sighs as I take him into me.

"Mine! You are mine now. I give you new life. Take me into your body...make me yours!"

Time stands still. My first real taste is so very satisfying and I am quickly at my limit. I sense that my body is accepting of this new 'food', yet needs to adjust to it, as well. My final movement is a long and slow lick across the knife cut. The cut seals almost immediately. There is a new tenderness to his kiss. Our mouths are wet with his own blood. Tyler revels in our tongue play, and his purring is almost cat-like.

"Good. Let's go to our first 'appointment' together."

The building is one I recognize. It belongs to one of the cities major corporations. We are warmly greeted by the lobby attendant, and Tyler whisks us into an elevator, his hand at the small of my back. He inserts a key into an unmarked floor slot. Up we go. The doors open; and the man at the desk smiles at us.

"Tyler, welcome back. He is waiting for you...and your friend..."

"My 'friend' will wait here until I summon him. Get to know each other. Zach and I will be frequent visitors from now on, Jeffrey."

Tyler walks through the inner office door and it closes behind him. I am... No. I am not alone. I have a hot guy named Jeffrey to check out and to talk with. "That you do, Z...let me warm up our breakfast before I call to you." This telepathy thing is real handy!

So, Jeffrey, tell me, how do you like working for a business like this?

"It's great. Really. I get to organize his day, plan the meetings, see that all goes smoothly and has a good outcome. What do you do...Zach?

I'm into good outcomes myself, Jeffrey!

"Please, it's Jeff for you."

He has no idea how true his words really are. The man is gorgeous. I mean truly beautiful in a classical way. He could easily be a model, a network newscaster...a porn star. Even fully dressed his body speaks to me. My thoughts run to undressing him with my eyes; and what I see is magnificent. I once had a friend in college who struck me this way. After a shower, he would stand at the mirror of our dorm room and preen, a small white towel wrapped tightly around his waist. It tented in front as expected. I could not take my eyes off him. His skin was flawless and glistening. Years of weight training had added many pounds of solid muscle to his five foot eight inch frame. He would comb his hair back and as he did so, I would get a glimpse of long damp pit hair. The wetness in my shorts felt good; but I would get paranoid that he would turn to see my wet bulge straining toward him. The vibe coming from Jeffrey is super strong and filled with a passion for his job, for his friends, for his life. It is wonderful to be in his presence. I hope that Tyler is thinking what I am. Jeffrey would make a perfect 'regular' for me; and my mate and I could double-dunk very nicely in this safe and secure rarefied place.

Tyler calls to me. When I enter the large office, I am uncertain of where to settle my gaze. Windows offer a very enticing panoramic view of the city below us. The decor and colors are soothing. One blood-red vase sits on a corner of the large central desk. There is no clutter. There is no sound. There is no Tyler...?

"Touch the vase, Z."

A bookcase...a bookcase-door swings silently open. The small room within is awash in color. I am immediately immersed in sensory overload, yet I settle my focus on the scene before me. He looks to be in his mid forties. A handsome man with a good build. Strong shoulders. Full chest. His tailored shirt clings to his torso like a stiff wet wind is blowing it against his skin. His head is bent backward. His throat...

"Sit next to me, Z."

Mr. Big is relaxed in, what else but a big leather recliner. Tyler is seated on a cushion between his legs. The guys dick, excuse me, at this level of society...his penis, is about six inches of straight, cut, hard and leaking man meat. Tyler has obviously been enjoying himself.

"Marcel and I go back a few years, Z. We met before his promotions, when he was a mere young French office boy eager to fill a new job...and my belly with his sweet warm blood. I took him gently on our second 'date' and have been at his side, his crotch, like this every week or so ever since. He was my first dick-meal, and the only 'regular' source I have. Our first time, I was sucking on his erection when my mind went crazy with blood lust. His penis, fully engorged with the object of my desire, suddenly came to mind as the ideal straw from which to drink his offering. Deepthroated, he was almost at his edge then; and my fangs bit in below the hairline, at the thick and meaty part of his manhood. His climax was more than intense, as warm cum shot into my throat, followed by a steady stream of even warmer blood that found its way into my belly. I shot a brief-soaking load of my own; and then cleaned him off, leaving no trace of any wetness behind. He is at his edge again, Z. I will take his load, and feed my need with his blood. Be ready to do the cleanup work for us. It will ease you into the world of feeding."

Just then, Marcel jerked upright in the throes of his pre-ejaculatory state. The room rang with his cry of orgasm. Tyler's throat bulged with the pulsations of Marcel's throbbing shaft. T then quickly retreated and I went in for the...cleanup. A last rope of cream graced my tongue as I went down on him. It was sweet. Sweeter than Tylers.

"Too much sugar in his coffee!"

I went to town lapping up the juices that covered his shaft; and squeezed the last drops from his pee slit, savoring the flavor. Blood covered the base of his package, including the bush. I love a good bush! This one comes with its own 'special sauce', too! Before long, my tongue has done a good job of returning Marcel's package to a state of pristine cleanliness. My smile is ear-to-ear.

"We can go now, Z. Marcel will rest here for a while, and then call to Jeffrey from his main office desk. Oh, the vase was a gift from me."

Very thoughtful of you, Z. My hand is on his shoulder, buddy style, and my lips are at his as we stride to the door. Jeffrey sits in waiting.

"How did it go? Some day you will have to fill me in on exactly what your bi-weekly missions are all about. I mean, you are the only 'appointment' that gets booked without an itinerary." His smile and chuckle are...

"That's a deal, Jeffrey. In fact, Zach can take you into our confidence with our very next visit. Right, Zach?" And his smile and chuckle are...

Right, Tyler. It's a date, Jeff!

We just look at each other on the elevator ride down. I have a sh-, blood-eating grin on my face, and Tyler is still laughing as the doors open to the main floor.

"Let's take in the Museum, Z. We'll pick up dinner around eight. He will be waiting."

Mystery. His voice is full of it. His mind...it is now closed to me. His control is awesome. Okay, T, but first, I need some of your 'personal' attention. Let's duck into a cozy spot in the basement of the Museum. The spot I have in mind is stall number three of the mens room. Hardly anyone uses the basement facilities. Tyler looks bemused as we enter the main door. Number three, Tyler. He steps in first. Have a seat! I am incredibly thirsty for his cock. Marcel's piece got me going, but did not totally satisfy my need. Tyler unzips, and pulls out his hose for me. I waste no time in ministering to my man's sweet cockhead. It fills my mouth completely; and every inward suck engorges him until he is at his most impressive. Tyler has a pent up need, too. He groans softly as I face-fuck his juicy rod. Man, I love this! I want his load in me and I want it now. No time for a long romantic buildup. This quickie will tide us both over until our next major bout. Besides, we still have to pick up dinner!

"So this is dessert...before dinner?"

You bet it is, lover. Tyler squeezes his ass with each one of my deepthroatings. He is helping me get him off quickly. His gasp tells me he is close. I lock my throat onto him and suck with all the power I possess.

"Fuck! Cocksucker! I'm gonna drown you in it!"

Bring it on, Mr. Bring it on! He thrusts his hips four times and Bam! I feel his first rope pulse up his shaft, the girth of which expands as it ascends. Tyler is correct. I start to drown in the seven strong ropes that follow. I relax my throat and let his cum descend, and the pulsed volleys cascade into me. What a rush! Tyler starts to go limp after his high point. I love this part too. I love having a guys limp dick in my mouth, and feeling it inflate to my efforts. After he cums, feeling him relax and go soft is equally satisfying to me. Tyler stays in my throat, and his deflating withdrawal from my mouth leaves the most pleasant feeling and taste imaginable.

We pass the time gazing at the main exhibit - Impressionist art; and I marvel at the depth of Tylers knowledge. As the night approaches, the two of us head for an area of town that I usually avoid. It is a bit too structured and cold for me. The majority of the area is all for medical purposes. Dominating the landscape is the Hospital. We walk up to a fellow sitting on a bench near the main entrance to the Coronary Unit.

"David, this is Zach. He and I will be taking you for dinner."

I look at Tyler in a way that says: 'Really'?! David is not looking well. Not at all. He is thin, almost emaciated. He stands slowly between us, and we start to walk. What is Tyler thinking? This guy is half dead already. He is a world away from that of Marcel and Jeffrey, and...

"And we do not always get to enjoy the source of our food, Z. I have been David's 'friend' since his diagnosis of terminal heart failure. His body can not accept a transplant, and I have been monitoring his last days with sadness and...anticipation."

You can't!

"But we can. We must. He will die within hours anyway. I have planned a gentle and soothing end for him. I am not unfeeling Zach. Trust me."

The river and its park-like environs are vast and uncluttered with any buildings or bike paths. It's just nature at its most serene. We walk into the thick forest of trees and come to a bend in the river where the water runs slowly, and bubbles over a course of shiny smooth stones. The moon is full. The light is enchanting. The three of us perch on a massive log. David is exhausted from the trek. His time is short. I feel it. His heartbeat tells me so. I can hear it loud and clear. He feels calm to me. His gaze at Zach is one of trusting friendship. I am watching a scene more horrific to me than any I have ever witnessed. There is compassion in his face as Tyler takes David's hand in his. I feel sick. Tyler shoots me a quick glance and I can see it in his eyes. He has a look of inevitability; and of tenderness.

"We must. He knows all. In this rare instance, I have betrayed myself to him; and have his ...blessing." As my mind 'hears' the words, Tyler bends in, and the neck yields to him with a snapping sound. David seems to smile as his last moments approach. He is being released, and he knows it. Halfway through the feeding, his body slumps and Tyler tells me to take up the meal. My face is wet with tears. I can not.

"You can. You must." He says this out loud with both a sternness and a knowing tenderness.

He is right. We must feed. I must work through my emotions; yet allow them to guide my choices of prey as I see Tyler has done. Tyler holds David, almost lovingly, and we trade places. I must do this quickly before I have time to think. My mouth opens and for the first time, I feel my incoming fangs protrude to take my meal. I drink until my body tells me to stop. We nestle David's body in a small ravine near the river, and cover it loosely with leaves. There is a rustling sound as we trek from the woods. Tyler is on guard in his posture.

"He watches us."

I look up at the nearby hill. Tyler, I whisper. The coyote is magnificent...or is it...

"His name is Ezra. He does not hunt tonight. He watches."

The trip home is, well, a somber one. There is no joy this night for either of us. We enter the shower together, and bathe each others bodies to clean off the feeling of the last hours as much as we possibly can. I can not hold it in. I hug Tyler, and sob into his firm and supple chest. His head nuzzles mine and he holds me close. I know he feels it, too. I no longer have any doubt that Tyler will care for me until my own end comes. I am at peace now. I just want to go to sleep. Do I have to hunt tomorrow?

"It is your fifth course. Your last day of conversion. Your first solo hunt. You will be fine. I will be close by."

He towels himself and me dry. Ezra, the wolf, what...?

"Not now, not now. Hold onto me while you sleep. There will be time enough for such things later. We have time for so much, you and I..."