SanguisVita was the joke name we created for our synthetic blood product: Sanguis meaning blood and Vita meaning life in Latin. The name somehow stuck.
It was easier to get the product through testing for the Avidite population and has been available for the last six months. It was well-received by the vast majority of my kind, and although there are no official statistics, I do know that the number of human Donors has decreased by more than half.
This little fact went a long way to silencing the last of the anti-Avidite movement, given that we’re now able to lead practically ‘normal’ human lives. We need the substitute every few days, just as we did human blood, but now it’s marketed in conveniently go-anywhere opaque drinking bottles. It also doesn’t degrade like human blood and doesn’t require refrigeration. Making the lives of Avidites around the world simpler and more convenient.
Emilia picks up a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries before sauntering her bikini-clad curves toward me. She settles herself on the built-in seat of the pool and lifts one to her mouth, but I intercept it, taking a big bite and licking the strawberry juice and chocolate from her fingers.
She giggles, mostly because she still finds it odd that I can eat ‘regular’ food. Avidites can eat anything, it’s just that none of it is particularly nutritionally beneficial to us…doesn’t mean it doesn’t taste nice. And as I remind her, how miserable would life be if we couldn’t go out to dinner as husband and wife? On those occasions, I stick to smaller meals and fill up on either the SanguisVita or my woman when we get home. Take that however you want, because I feast on my wife in all the ways imaginable.
I place my hands on her waist and slide her onto my lap so that I can hold her as we watch the last rays of sun disappear behind the horizon, the world illuminated in deep orange, pink and purple.
It might have taken over a century, but I finally have the woman of my dreams in my arms, sharing a bed with me, sharing her life with me.
Sometimes I reflect on how our lives worked out and whether I feel any resentment towards the universe for taking Emilia away from me for so long. But we’re both different people now and I think we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be physically and emotionally.
Our journey hurt, but I wouldn’t change it because it’s the story of us.
Emilia sighs in contentment and wiggles her delectable behind across my groin, knowing full well I’m already hard as fuck for her. There’s barely a moment when I’m not.
Not that I’m complaining about all the sex we have.
She arches her back and grinds hard and I know it’s time to see to my wife’s pleasure. To be fair to her, I’ve been torturing her all day by not touching her, even though she deliberately wore the world’s tiniest bikini to tempt me. The thing barely covers her pussy lips and I’ve been sporting half wood all fucking day.
Taking pity on her, I pull her taunting bikini bottoms to the side and slide two fingers into her pussy to test her readiness. I’m not surprised to find her practically dripping.
She whimpers slightly, clenching her muscles around my probing fingers and I don’t have any self-restraint left. I remove my fingers and slam my thick cock home into her welcoming wetness. Emilia screams in pleasure, her fingernails digging into my arms where they hold her around her waist. She rocks her hips up and down my length and I marvel again at how she’s always hot and ready for me.
Fair’s fair I suppose, I’m always hard for her and as far as I’m concerned, we still have a century of lost loving to make up for…
The End.