Page 20 of Little Fangs

“I couldn’t, even if I tried,” I said, before going down his hairy chest, kissing it and licking his pink nipples until they were hard. The urge to bite him was in my rewritten DNA, but I knew I couldn’t, not only because my teeth lacked the ability, but also because he told me not to, and he had control now.

“Keep going,” he said. “I know you’ve wanted to explore more.”

Gummy worms wriggled in my belly as he gave me permission to play. My hands immediately found his dick, one on the outside of his briefs, and another gently going through his forest of hair. Like the forest itself, he was well taken care of. “Can I go there?” I asked, my hand creeping to his waistband.

“As long as I can too,” he said with a nod. Both hands reaching out, he grabbed me by the thighs. “On my face.” I’d given in to his grip, letting him swing me and pull me around until my knees were on his shoulders, and he was busy removing the loose briefs he’d given me.

Harlan ate my ass and tickled my taint with his tongue while playing with my balls and jerking my dick—seemingly all at the same time. It had me trying to prove something to him as I went down on him. His dick was bigger than it had been the first time. That memory of it flashing in my face. It looked so thick now, as my fingers tried wrapping themselves around it, two hands, jerking it up and down while my tongue worked the tip like it was an ice cream, and I was being rewarded by the little droplets of precum syrup it produced.

This feeling felt like it had been bubbling since the first time we slept in the same bed together. There must’ve been something there then, and it excited me to ride Harlan’s face as his tongue worked my ass over, his hands on my dick, and the tickle of his facial hair was the cherry on top of the rest.

We didn’t get much further than that when my dick decided it was overstimulated and I came, the first spurt across his chest, and then with his reflexes, he pulled me slightly until my dick was in his mouth, down his throat, shooting the rest of my load as my balls ascended, sitting on his chin.

“Oh fuck, I’m—” I moaned, curling my toes and sighing with each additional tingling dick pulse in his mouth. I pulled away and sucked on his dick, taking it all, and practically dislocating my jaw for his dick to be in my throat.

Harlan propped himself up on the pillow, letting me get between his legs better, until he repaid the favor, filling my throat and stomach with his cum. Each gulp was forced down by the next, and I wasn’t going to waste a drop of it, but the longer his dick remained in my mouth, the more I fought the urge to bite. My teeth, they wanted to go down, to sink into the soft tissue of his dick skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, slowly pressing on my shoulders to release me from his dick.

My jaw clenched hard, my teeth grinding.

“You’re hungry,” he whispered. “There are still blood bags.”

My eyes twitched as I gulped again. “I want—I want—”

“Yeah?” he asked, wiping the saliva from the corner of my mouth. “What do you want?”

I pounced on him, my hands digging into his shoulders as I stared into his eyes, baring my teeth. A single tear formed in the corner of my eye.

“You want to bite me?” he asked.

I nodded before blubbering out. “Please.”

We continued to lock eyes and stare at each other. “I thought you couldn’t,” he said.

“I can’t, but you made me hungry,” I let out.

It was post-orgasm hunger, and often, my brothers fucked and ate at the same time. I’d never done it, but I knew they had, and since I didn’t come often, I didn’t usually experience all of this. Maybe because I’d come without warning, it had snuck up on me.

All I could do was apologize.

He pulled me into a hug and held me there, kissing my cheek. “I’ll get you a blood bag, and you’ll learn to bite,” he said. “Good bites only.”

“Good bites only,” I said with a sniffle, pulling back my tears.

It was strange to even think about biting someone, let alone him. It was my desire to bite, to drink, eat, feed myself on him, but I knew it wasn’t possible, due to my teeth, and from how I’d seen my brothers feed, sometimes the idea of it grossed me out completely.

Harlan made me feel comfortable.

And even though it was the first time without my teddies or little space, where I was truly happy, I felt fulfilled on a level I’d craved more than blood itself, and that was my life.

* * *

Harlan wanted to take me into town.

Over the years I’d lived in Willow’s End, I’d been into the town a time or two. It had changed over the years, which was probably why I couldn’t orientate myself once I was kicked out. My body only knew the forest, and hiding—I did that well—and my streak of being found would’ve continued if it hadn’t been for the adorable large fluffball that found me.

I was dressed in my jeans that Harlan had patched up, along with his underwear, a tank top, and a T-shirt he’d once shrunk in the washing machine. And to top it off, a washed-out blue baseball cap and one of his checkered shirts I’d folded up several times at the arms and tucked the excess bottoms into my jeans.