ph_logs | Vampire Zoomies!

Who: Lord Erik Osborne (

lordoftheozarks) & Open!
What:Following Erik Drinking Eddie's blood until he dies Erik has gotten himself a little blood drunk and silly. Vampire zoomies!
When: Immediately after linked thread
Where: All over town/woods feel free to pick any place even if not listed
Warning(s):Erik will be acting slightly high/drunk, talk of blood/blood drinking, potentially nsfw

He's buzzing with vitality, more full than he's been in longer than he can remember. He's so hopped-up on blood he barely knows what to do with himself.

First, he tries running it off in the woods, a pale blur darting through the trees. He gets in so far he can't even hear the town anymore and, still, his skin crawls with power begging to be used. So, he goes next to the cliffs, scaling them with bare hands and feet in a matter of minutes. That takes a slight edge off of it. Enough that he feels he might safely be able to go to town.

With his shoes in his hands, not even bothering to put them back on, he dashes to town. He's unbuttoned the front of his shirt, as well, because for once he's actually hot. Almost unbearably hot! It will be noticeable to anyone who looks at him; he's flushed bright red all the way from his chest to his cheeks.

He slows once he reaches the town square, walking with a slight list to the left like a drunkard. Ooh, his head is a little fuzzy too. Now he remembers why he doesn't tend to let himself overindulge. Wisdom tells him he should go home and try to sleep this off, but the mischievous part of him thinks there might be better things he could do to take advantage of all this endless stamina.

"Pleasant evening," he's wearing a bold fang-filled grin of pure lust. "Want to help me wear myself out? I'm offering my services for free tonight only."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Gerry tuts. "Smug bastard. Alright, let's go before I change my mind."

Not that he would. Much to his dismay, Gerry's had a stupid hate-crush on this obnoxious vampire since their first meeting, and banging it out will probably do him some good. He turns toward Erik's house and gets to walking, recalling the way with relative ease.

"Yes. Let's." Said with the same smugness. He knows you're not going to change your mind, Gerry, and you're just too fun to tease.

His steps are just a tad wobbly on the way there, but once they reach his humble home, Erik unlocks the door and waves his guest inside with a steady hand.

"Now, Mr. Keay, tell me how you like it. Hm?"

"...Well, I should probably preface this by saying that I'm transgender. I'm hoping you know what that means?" He looked back with a raised eyebrow. "And to be perfectly honest, I haven't experimented altogether too much. I've had my fair share of quickies, but often not much more. A side effect of my lifestyle."

"Yes, I do know what that means. And you are not my first if that puts your mind at ease." There won't be any shocked looks from this ancient whore. But his own thin brow does lift, as well.

"In that case, why don't we discuss what is and isn't off-limits? I can provide a quickie, but I can also provide much, much more. I have stamina to burn today."

"None of that age-play bullshit or whatever. Never understood why anyone would want to essentially have their partner call them 'dad'. And I'm not into pain. Been hurt enough in my life, never found a way to make it sexy." Gerry gives it another moment of thought. "That's about it. I'd be open to experimentation. Or recommendations."

"I wouldn't have agreed to let you call me that even if you'd asked," he answers with a chuckle. "I don't care for that sort of play, myself. These are all perfectly reasonable." Good thing biting is already off the table tonight.

"What about touch? Anywhere you would rather I not focus my attention? I'm more than happy to eat you out slowly and deliberately, from the front or back."

Edited 2023-10-31 02:12 (UTC)

Gerry coughs, his face heating up at the mental image. "I'm fine with anything. Don't mind a bit of manhandling either, assuming I can do it back."

A beat. "Also. I like, ah. Sitting on top." Not a pillow prince, clearly.

Such flush heat. Erik loves to see it. Especially on the face of someone who likes to play like he's so impenetrable. They'll see about that.

"Come claim your seat then, won't you?"

Erik is already loosening the buttons of his shirt with one hand and unbuckling his belt with the other. All while walking backward toward the bed. Let no one say he isn't skilled at his craft.

Alright, yeah, that's admittedly pretty smooth. Gerry sheds his jacket fluidly, having worn one just like it for so much of his life that shucking it off is second nature. He discards his vest and boots nearly as quickly, then makes his way over to the bed. He'd let the rest of their disrobing be a team effort--- more fun that way.

Fingers curl in Erik's half open shirt as Gerry catches up and pulls him into a fiery kiss.

Erik lets himself be pulled in with his mouth wide open. He's gotten very, very good at controlling the position of his fangs even in such steamy moments, so there shouldn't be any mishaps unless Gerry gets a little too exploratory with his tongue. He kisses back ferociously, like he's trying to drink his lover down. He doesn't need to breathe, so he can go on like this forever.

Erik's thin fingers find the hem of Gerry's shirt and slide beneath, so he can drag his nails up the skin of Gerry's back, featherlight and teasing. But it isn't long before he is attempting to lift the shirt up completely to pull it off over Gerry's head. They'll have to stop kissing to do that.

Gerry lets out a heated breath as they part, unbuttoning the shirt partially before just pulling it off.

His skin underneath is mottled with scar tissue, predominantly the darkened, slightly textured remains of old burns. Ghosts of lacerations, punctures, and even suspiciously large bites can be found in various places as well. Only one set of scars appears to be surgical, which are a pair of identical incision marks beneath his pectorals. Additionally, the distinctive eye tattoos on his knuckles also appear over his wrists, elbows, shoulders, throat, and over his heart.

Since Erik is already on his back, Gerry settles for merely unbuttoning his shirt to run his hands eagerly over Erik's chest. He settles his weight into where he's straddled the other man, shifting it teasingly. A taste of what's to come.

Erik gazes up at his chest, taking in the scars and tattoos with open interest. His fingers even drift to that odd bitemark, tracing it lightly. "You weren't kidding about fighting monsters." He sounds impressed, if anything.

His own pale chest, by comparison, is flawless and pale as a perfect marble statue--though not as cold for once. He barely has much hair, save for a thin auburn trail leading down from his navel. The bulge Gerry's currently straddling is getting larger by the second. Erik likes what he sees and feels.

"Do those tattoos have some significance for you?"

"They're... religious. Sort of," he replies vaguely. That's close enough for now, anyway. No sense in ruining the mood with talk of malevolent gods, nor the gift of sight that he received for his acts of service. "Do you like them?"

"They are not unattractive." But they are also just slightly unnerving. Unlike any religious symbols, he's seen.

"I'll have to ask you more about them later. For now, I have more pressing concerns." He raises his hips up to emphasize his point.

Vampire Zoomies!

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