Alpha's Supremacy [Erotic Stories Compilation]

If I were to start this story with a word, a word to sum it all up, I would pick "beauty". It's one of the simplest and overused words in the English language. It brings to mind things like sunshine, and women with delicate features. That's not the type of beauty I'm talking about. More like the kind of beauty that festers, lives and breaths under the sin. Don't get confused, I'm not talking about the act of good deeds. Good deeds do not exist, but perception does. What you see, becomes the truth, but there is always something lying underneath. The beauty I'm talking about has teeth and claws. It comes to you in your sleep and makes you see to the very bottom of your soul, to the true things that you believe, to the secrets you keep from respected society. These things you carry with you, they are beautiful, but they are forbidden. This kind of beauty can kill. Reaches inside you and squeezes out your life. It is unprotected, it is banished and it takes its revenge in the form of anger and spite. We are more than we appear. We are animals trapped in tight clothing. Roaming to dark places in our heads, we search for the answers to questions that seem too dark to ask. We find them in the darkened corners of the night where lines are invisible. We commit sins, and shed blood, writhing in pleasure, our hands hot on skin, feeling, moving, as our demons are released and set free. We become more truly ourselves in these moments of decadent freedom. We know God cannot protect us from what we already are. It is beauty that closes our eyes and takes us to his mercy. When we wake up; Harsh light. In the morning we try to wrap ourselves, once again, in white cloth. We pull it tight over the bleeding flesh. The tighter we pull the more the blood starts to soak through the sheet. Spreading and showing us for what we really are. Masks, smiling into the gloom waiting the unveiling. * The first time I saw her, it must have been the first of August. I'm not sure, really. The use of cocaine over the years has made it impossible to remember dates. I do remember that I had one of the strongest feelings I have ever felt. It breached even the cocaine. She was a beauty unlike any other. Aloof, she entered the room, her delicate pink dress swaying behind her ankles. She reminded me of the vampire movies I had seen over the years. A mistress from a darker reality, coming to feed on humanity. That all changed when she smiled. All traces of the underworld vanished leaving a sweetness that called to me. Her dress was of a pale pink that molded and almost disappeared against her skin. I felt that if I ran my hand down her back I would never know where her dress ended and her flesh began. Her body was soft and curved under the sweet silk. It made you want to touch her just to feel her body give way to the pressure you created. I imagined, that if I bit into her sweet flesh she would taste like strawberries with a hint of chocolate. Her eyes were the color of cold lakes. Piercing and blue, looking striking against her blushing skin and radiant strawberry colored hair. It was the look in her eyes that made me shiver. She was so defiantly separate from the rest of us humans. She knew secrets that she might whisper to a waiting ear in the middle of the night. Ah! I cant even tell you how fast I would have her undressed and laying face down. I like things a little harsher than is usually appropriate. Although she looked like an angel, I imagined this sweet-faced girl could take what I would give to her. She may even be able to teach me a few tricks. Beneath the layers of pink lace and silk, I saw a piece of evil. There was guilt under her blushes. I didn't know what character trait I possessed that made it possible for me to see it, but it was there and it glowed like hidden warmth under her skin. I wanted a piece of it. I wanted it all. Like a cold wind I was reminded exactly where I was and why. Through a colleague I had been invited to a fundraiser for some saddening disease. I remember looking at that brochure and seeing the name of some disease, that at this point in time, I can't remember. There are always reasons to feel guilty and cough up thousands of dollars just to save another impoverished or sick and dying child. Not that I have anything against sick and dying children, but they seem to increase in number no matter how much time you spend at these functions.