Red Wine

I love red wine. It’s amazing. I’m totally addicted to it, obsessed with its taste; its texture as it rolls down my tongue. I savor every mouthful, swill it round my mouth and glorify in that feeling of my teeth being set on edge. Its crimson color is simply aesthetically pleasing, giving an enigmatic pull to make you want to explore it. I smell my wine too; a connoisseur must have standards, you know. I, however don’t exactly have an age limit for my wine; I believe in sampling across the gap. You’d be surprised how delicious fresh wine could be as compared to say, 30-year old wine. I’ve tasted red wine from all over the world, and my passion has allowed me to visit exotic places and meet exotic people too. I’m a people person, you know?

Many women say that I’m definitely a book that shouldn’t be judged by its cover. I’m average looking, nondescript, and the kind you’d forget after a glance. I’m quite proud of that ability to be anonymous; it’s a prerequisite for my habit, especially after I lose control due to intoxication. I never said I was a perfect gentleman. Anyway, what is the big deal about me? What makes me attractive? It’s my voice. It’s beautiful, sonorous, yet soft. It’s hypnotic. I’m also well versed in the ways of charming women. I’ve always bedded whoever I desired. Sometimes, they don’t even know how it happens. They look into my eyes, hear my voice, and the next thing, they’re naked. I have to be great at seducing women, as they are an integral part of my obsession.

I have a fetish, naturally. There’s nobody with my level of obsession who wouldn’t have one. As much as I’m in love with red wine, it only feels sexual when it’s running all over a person’s body. That’s the last and the most important aspect about my love for red wine. There’s something very raw and uncivilized about using a woman’s body as a cup. It’s exciting to see her expression as I lick my wine off her breasts. I’d lick her nipples slowly, in loving circles, and suck them gently as I don’t want to waste a single drop of my wine. I’ll kiss her down on her chest, licking between her cleavage down to her navel, tracing my wine down between her legs. I enjoy building the anticipation; I feel powerful knowing what she wants while I make her wait. I’ll lick her down there too, and watch her squirm and moan with pleasure as I French-kiss her down there. It’s almost time……

Tonight, it’s a beautiful African. I can’t remember the last time I had an African. It’s a refreshing change; I need to take my time and enjoy this. Flawless caramel skin, toned muscles, trim figure, a figure of perfect health. Her breasts are swollen, nipples painfully erect. Her skin is hot, her breathing deep and heavy; she’s dripping wet and near the edge of her sanity. She’s beyond ready, just the way I like it. What’s left of my wine is drying up on her body but I don’t mind: I’ll get a lot more very soon…….I just need to wait just a bit longer……. I enter her slowly….. Her moan is low, long and deep……her back is arching…..she tilts her head back…….her neck is exposed………I bite gently……she likes it……good…..now I bite hard…………. Dinner is served, and I’m very hungry.

I guess I lost control again. I guess I love my red wine too much. I really need to stop playing with my food too; I leave it messy at the end and waste the rest. I’m spoilt but I’m not greedy; at least I’ve had my fill for tonight. I should go to sleep soon; it’s almost dawn. Bad sleeping habits, I know…… Tomorrow night is another night. Maybe I’ll try Chinese food………

Oh dear; where are my manners? You can call me the Count. Better yet, just “Alucard”