Razorkiss (P-M1F1, H-P, E-F1) An erotic story by Katryna Last updated 12/17/06 This adult story is (C) by Katryna. It may be redistributed subject to a few provisions but may not be sold or otherwise used for profit and must have this heading attached. Please read my legal notice as downloading, redistributing, or reading this story signifies your agreement to the terms and conditions outlined within it. Author's note: This story is based (loosely) on a particularly memorable IRC roleplay session. Thanks again for that; you know who you are... :) You watch as she stretches on the bed, arching her back slightly, comfortable, at ease, and a bit playful. You're reminded a bit of the hunting cats you've seen on nature shows; the lazy-predatory demeanor is the same. There's a hint of unpolished-silver moonlight and Rigel-blue streetlamp filtering through the blinds, and streaks of light play across her form as she slowly turns toward you. She smiles softly, her emerald-limestone eyes blinking sleepily. It's strange, you reflect, that she never seems to nap except on days when she isn't stressed out of her mind. When you'd think she'd need it the least. And now here she is, awake, at her favorite time of the not-even-vaguely-day. You wonder sometimes if she's a vampire, and where she's hiding the fangs. "Sleep all right?" You murmur. She nods slightly, yawning affectedly. Her hair, a little beyond shoulder length, shifts a bit as she moves, a few more strands falling out of place. Hard to tell, really, as disheveled as it always is. She's still in your arms at night, but when she's on her own she turns like a drive shaft. Her skin, you reflect, almost matches the lamp-moonlight. Almost like a negative image of the sky; a landscape of sooth white dotted with brown star clusters, and a few crimson or blue nebulas. You can't see much of her, she's in her usual tank top and jeans. No bra, you observe; she rarely wears one around the apartment. Her feet are likely bare under the covers that are folded back at her knees. She beckons gently to you. You lean forward, resting one hand on the edge of the mattress, and kiss her softly. She strokes your cheek gently, her fingertips drifting along your skin and leaving faint tingly trails. You shiver slightly, hearing her purring softly as she pulls you to her. You stagger a bit, finally losing your balance and collapsing atop her, hearing her half-grunt, half-sigh with satisfaction as your weight lands across her stomach, her eyes half-closing. You roll off her as quickly as you can, not wanting to crush her. "Is that entirely accurate, you wonder? Would it really be"... Then you derail that train of thought. Despite the give-and-take she's insisted on since you met her, this is one of those times you know to follow her lead. She turns towards you, kissing you again, deeply this time. You can feel the warmth of her lips mashed to yours, the soft-muscular tip of her tongue pressing insistently, worming between both sets and pushing into your mouth. You suck on it gently at first as you lift yourself a little on one elbow, wrapping your arms around her, feeling her breasts pressing, deforming slightly, against your chest, her nipples already half-stiffened. You can feel her heartbeat slowly accelerating as you run your hands down her back, feeling her arch into the touch. As you hold her against you, you feel yourself warming, stirring... Her hands drift along your upper arms, her fingertips alternately tapping and pressing, squeezing, kneading your muscles. You shiver again as you feel her chest expanding, her breathing speeding to match her heart. Her eyes are closed as she probes your mouth with your tongue, and you can hear her soft, muffled whimpers of pleasure and need. You run your hands up and down her back, brushing along her spine with your fingertips, through the cotton, feeling her arching further into the touch, pressing harder against you. She disengages, still breathing faster, her skin flushed slightly. She swallows hard and licks her lips, her smile fading to a poker face. You look back at her intently, head cocked slightly. "Yes?" You whisper. She swallows again, looking at the bed, then up to meet your eyes. There's still a bit of conflict, of uncertainty, engraved on her features, but you can tell her mind is made up. "Tonight," She breathes, almost questioningly. You nod, looking deeply, analytically, into her eyes. "Are you sure?" You respond. She sits there for a few seconds, then nods slowly. "If you're hesitant..." You continue. "I want this," She whispers. You nod, hugging her close, feeling her limpening a bit in your arms. She's like a diamond, you reflect. Or titanium. So strong, yet so fragile... She purrs, closing her eyes and kissing you again, her hands running up and down your back now as you suck at her tongue. You're still lying on opposites sides, facing each other, half-propped up with one another's elbows. You run your fingertips down her back and catch the hem of her shirt with your left hand, using your feet to slip your shoes off and tossing them beside the bed. She purrs, lifting herself slightly as you pull her shirt upwards, slowly revealing her stomach and back inch by inch. You admire the litheness of her build as she squirms slightly against you. She nips at your nose on the spur of the moment, then grins. Her innocent demeanor barely hides her strength; the force her legs have exerted around you other nights has actually become frightening. You lean around her, kissing softly up her spine as you lift her shirt. She gasps with each touch of your lips, and whimpers, squirming, as you tease her back a bit with your tongue. As you lick and kiss at her you can feel yourself swelling further, your pants rapidly becoming far too tight. You pull back and slowly pull her shirt upward, over her head, shivering again as you uncover her breasts. "Heaving bosom," the smut books would put it, and she is, admittedly, breathing fairly hard. You think you can sense a faint glimmer of perspiration along her chest, in the valley between her breasts. Her nipples, medium-rare pink, jut from her breasts like RTS perimeter defense buildings. You slide the shirt up and over her head, and she pulls her arms out of it. You toss it aside, running your hands down her back again, as she begins to unbutton your shirt. You lift yourself a little further to make it easier as you press your lips to hers once more. Her fingers fumble a bit with the buttons, but she gradually gets it open, and you pull your arms out of it, one by one. You lick playfully at her nose, and she giggles. She presses herself against you, skin to skin now, her nipples gently poking your ribs as she breathes into your mouth. Her hands run lower, down your spine, fingertips trilling gently. She slides her fingers persistently under your waistband, slowly circling around to the front as you close your eyes, purring and enjoying the sensation. She grasps you through your pants, purring as she feels your stiffness in her hands, enjoying the gentle throbbing of your shaft. You groan, shuddering as she massages it through the cotton. You grasp her hand lightly and guide it to the zipper. She smiles, quivering slightly, noticeably flushed, as she unbuttons your jeans, pulling the zipper down. She presses her palm against you through your underwear, purring as she feels you straining against her hand. Your eyes are closed, the sensation overwhelming you as you breathe harder, leaning forward to kiss her fiercely. She grasps you, slowly kneading your shaft with her fingertips, enjoying watching your face as you squirm. You lift yourself from the bed, and she grasps both waistbands, easing your jeans and underwear down at the same time, watching your shaft spring up as she frees you. You slide your jeans the rest of the way down your legs, kicking them off, then the underwear. She purrs, watching as you stretch for her, naked now except for socks. She giggles, reaching down and gently pulling them from your feet. She grasps your shoulders, pulling you against her, rolling halfway on top of you and arching one leg across your pelvis. She moves slowly against you, grasping your shaft firmly with one hand as she presses her lips against yours, insistently sucking your tongue into her mouth and purring loudly. You feel her heart pounding against you as she rolls her hips slowly at first, grinding against your hip through her jeans. You laugh between groans, getting the idea, reaching down and clumsily undoing her jeans. She half-lifts herself, squirming out of them and kicking them off, lowering herself back to the bed. You purr, admiring her body, running your fingertips slowly down it. First her back, drifting across her buttocks, then, pulling slightly away from her, up her sides and along her shoulders. You let your fingers drift gently, teasingly down her chest, over the tops of her breasts, before you cup them, purring as you feel her nipples pressing insistently against your palms. You knead and massage them as she grasps your shaft once more, both of you panting now, whimpering with need but driven to make this last. You move your hips slowly at first, pressing up into her hand as she gently strokes you. You slide your hands from her breasts after a moment, and slowly downward, caressing across her stomach, over her hips, down the backs of her thighs, grinning as she arches into the touch, gasping at the intensity of the feeling. She moans, squirming under your touch, as you caress the backs of her knees, then the kneecaps, moving to kiss her deeply. She sucks at your tongue as you thrust it eagerly into her mouth, shuddering happily as your fingertips drift up her thighs, your palms gently caressing. You let your fingertips drift up and around her sex, circling playfully on her smooth, bare mound, with an almost undetectable hint of stubble. She whimpers, pushing back against your hands insistently. You grin, teasing her, moving them up and away. She lifts herself and presses, almost slams, back down onto your hand, catching it between her thighs. You gasp, purring as your palm presses against her hot, damp folds; whatever apprehension her mind might be stumbling on, her body is definitely into this. She moans agreeably, grinding against your hand. You caress her softly, your fingertips sliding along the outside of her lips. She whimpers, pressing against you, and you oblige her, sliding your middle finger gently between them, feeling it slicking around in her juices. You feel her tensing slightly as you rub your palm against her clitoris through the folds, grinning as you watch her squirming in your arms. She's breathing harder, the long, ragged breaths of her plateau. She pauses for half a second, looking deeply into your eyes, then reached under the pillow, pulling out a simple-looking black handle. She presses a button and the switchblade activates, the blade springing out with a click and slight metallic twang. She swallows, still grinding against your hand, and brings the blade slowly downwards as you watch, eyes wide. She lets it rest along her inner thigh, swallows again, then presses it downward. She draws the blade quickly up her thigh, tensing, clenching her teeth, groaning as the knife parts her flesh. She draws it up her thigh, until the new slit ends just shy of the one she was born with, quaking above you, eyes closing tight. She whimpers longer and loud in pleasure-pain, and you feel her warming, throbbing against your hand as she comes. You feel her hot fluids mixing against your palm as she dampens further, blood welling from her thigh. She keeps rubbing insistently, whimpering, moving the blade to her other thigh and quickly slashing it, and again you feel her throbbing against your hand, perhaps not so hard this time. She moans, lifting the blade, eying her wrists momentarily, then shaking her head slightly to herself. She rests the blade against her upper arm, then draws it downward, again parting the skin of her arm, coming again against your palm. You wonder about that; is it simple sensory overload, one intensive sensation triggering a response to another? Or something deeper, more primal? Knowing her, you suspect the latter. You glance at her thighs; the blood flowing from them has already dribbled down them and is rapidly forming a crimson stain on the mattress. It's not spurting and looks darkish; can't be an artery, but there's a lot of it. She must have hit a vein. She is breathing hard and fast, eyes half-closed, swaying slightly, almost hypnotically as she runs the blade to her other arm and slices it, moaning as she throbs against your hand. Her juices, both vaginal and vascular, are dribbling down your arm as you caress her, and the red spot on the mattress is expanding like a cancerous Silicon Valley suburb. She lifts the knife, resting it along her chest, and draws it downward, slicing along the top of her breast, screaming and shuddering against you with the intensity of her orgasm as the knife bisects her nipple. Blood is flowing down her arms, making another stain which quickly merges with the first, and now rivulets of red drift down her chest. She moves the blade to above her other breast and repeats the motion, slicing her nipple in half and coming powerfully again. She grasps your shoulder with one hand, the knife in the other, pushing you onto your back. She hasn't missed a vein yet, you reflect, staring wide-eyed at her bloodslick body, watching her chest heaving with passion. She purrs, half-straddling you, then opens her mouth wide. She rests the flat edge of the knife against her tongue, licking the blood from one side, moaning. She turns it and licks the other side clean, shuddering, then half-turns the blade, licking the edge, cutting a slit in her tongue. Blood wells up immediately, and she leans forward, kissing you deeply, sharing the salty-meaty taste of her vitality. She moves to straddle you, her wounded tongue still dancing with yours, and you feel warm blood dribbling onto your stomach and hips. She lowers herself, and you moan, closing your eyes as your head slips between her silky folds, sliding up and down along her sex, finally finding its mark. Sighing contentedly, she slowly begins to lower herself onto you. You moan, tensing a little as she closes around you with a lush, steamy deathgrip. It's women like her, you reflect, that make the application of the name of Venus appropriate for the planet. You push up, driving yourself deep into her, watching her arch her head back and moan as you come to rest gently, barely brushing her cervix. She leans forward, blood running down her chin along with her arms and chest and both your stomachs, kissing you deeply. She begins to move, and you press into her, rolling your hips opposite hers, squirming and gasping as her soft walls seem to caress you. She whimpers with pleasure, leaning forward, angling herself against the base of your shaft, rubbing her clitoris against you. As she tenses and strains above you, you can feel her weakening slowly. Her breathing slows a bit, her eyes seem slightly unfocused. You feel yourself warming, pushing up into her, as she leans forward to kiss you fiercely, whimpering. Her chest presses lightly to yours, and you can feel her heart slackening as the life ebbs from her body. You thrust into her insistently, compensating, matching her slowing thrusts. You can feel her tensing above you, and the insistent hot tingling and slight tightening between your legs grows to match it. You thrust up, faster, her blood coating your entire torso, oozing along your arms and legs onto the sheet, dribbling slightly from your mouth as you drink greedily from her tongue. She whimpers, shuddering, on edge, and then you drive up, hard, lifting her slightly off the bed. She goes rigid, suddenly, collapsing atop you, still for a moment, her hands resting on your shoulders. Then, suddenly, she tenses, hard, shaking, her short fingernails digging painfully into your shoulders, breaking the skin, as she gasps chokedly. You'll notice all this in retrospect; for now, your entire consciousness in consumed by the squeezing, clenching, throbbing, fluttering engulfing your shaft. You feel yourself shudder, hugging her tight to you, and groan as you spew into her. As her climax winds down, her deathgrip on your shoulders eases, but the velvety vice around your slowly limpening shaft remains. She sighs contentedly, breathing shallowly, her eyes half-closed and unfocused. You feel her pulse throbbing against you, fainter now, slowing rapidly. You feel a few faint throbs, two, one, then nothing. She exhales, going limp atop you, and breathes no more. You sigh to yourself, holding her tight to you, lying motionless, eyes closed, for a while as you soften inside her slowly cooling body. Gradually, your legs start to fall asleep and breathing becomes more and more of a strain, and you ease her from you, rolling her onto her side. You kiss her bloodstained lips gently, positioning her with her thighs together to preserve your final gift to her. Wrapping one arm around her, you snuggle up to her body and quickly slip into dreams, unsure now and forever how to feel.