Bite me hard

I couldn't stop looking at them: Those two unusually sharp fangs.
He had the look of a good boy. His blue eyes, honest and penetrating were the perfect trap; anyone could get lost in them. But his good boy appearance vanished whenever he smiled or he playfully showed his teeth. He enjoyed seeing people's reaction to that move. The image was disturbing. But somehow very hot...
The wine was starting to blur our minds. He leaned towards me and his breath warmed my lips. Sweet torture. I groaned of desire. I knew we couldn't kiss; we had to stay faithful to our current partners...
He smiled at my suffering, and there they were again: the wild animal teeth. Oh god, he drove me crazy.
I couldn’t hold it anymore. I wanted him so much, but I knew I’d feel guilty afterwards…
Suddenly I had an idea. I lifted my arm towards his mouth and whispered to him: “Bite me”.
I knew he wanted. Without thinking it twice, he sank his teeth in my skin with satisfaction. At first, he was soft on me.
“Harder…” I begged.
He obeyed – pressing his fangs deeper into my flesh. I started to moan out of pleasure.
The music at the bar was loud and no one could hear us. Yet.
He bit harder and harder, until I couldn’t hold it anymore and I started crying out of pleasure. My loud orgasmic moans rose over the level of the music. People started to look at us shyly. We were aware of it, and that made it even more exciting: he bit harder as I screamed louder.
When he pulled apart, he had a little bit of blood in his lips. He sensually licked the drops away.
The next morning I woke up with a headache from the wine, and the sweet painful feeling of the bite in my arm. I checked on the mirror and what I saw turned me on. The bruise and the scar with the shape of his teeth were the silent witnesses of my fetishist trip.