Teeth slide through flesh,

Blood tasting best,

Flowing over tongue,

And if she must confess,

She will soon flee to the West,

listening to her favorite album,

Driving eighty-five down highway sixty-six,

Yearning for blood more than sex,

She enter’s the sixth motel room,

A lushes woman sits leg’s cross,

Reading a book,

Looking up,

She see’s in her Mistress’s eyes,

A look she deeply needs to statisfy,

Baring her neck,

the teeth again sink deep,

Blood rolling over loving tongue,

Drinking deep with passionate love.

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