Life Blood

The woman stood in front of the full length mirror, her naked body clothed in a red shroud of blood. Every inch of her flesh was covered with the thick fluid: short blond hair slicked back, coloring it a deep black-red; blue eyes framed with red eyelashes and brows. Her full lips were made all the redder for the scarlet liquid. It clung to her body possessively, immune to the sweat that rose up from her flesh. Her tongue slipped from her mouth and took blood from her lips. A shock passed through her entire body, making her tremble with longing. She brought her hands up and slid them over her body, feeling the blood"s warm wetness build up beneath her hands. It slid across her skin like silk. The blood had movement and life. Her eyes widened as it began to swirl and dance upon her flesh. It moved slowly, purposefully. The sensation made her shudder. She took a deep breath and felt a small amount of blood slip into her mouth and slide burning across her tongue. The pain was exquisite. Sensation flooded the woman"s body, overloading her senses. The warmth of the blood began to heat and the friction of movement across flesh turned to electricity. The woman gasped for air, but found only blood. It poured down her throat and went up her nose, cutting off her breath. Still the blood danced upon her naked body, leaving no inch of flesh uncovered. The woman collapsed, her limbs folding under her. She was out of her mind with the pleasure and pain. Pain from her aching lungs, unable to fill with anything except thick living blood. Pleasure from the same dancing across her flesh, in the dance of death. Like sin welling up from her undamaged pores, more blood appeared upon her body. Bright red. Alive.