Reincarnated as Dracula’s Son

A puzzled look of confusion clouded Jasmine's eyes as Damian's hands, firm and unyielding, curled around her shoulders, lifting her away from his now-glistening shaft.

"Huh?" she breathed, her breath coming in short, rapid bursts as she struggled to comprehend the sudden shift in their impassioned embrace.

But before she could utter another syllable of bewilderment, Damian's urgent voice cut through the thick tension that hung in the air.

"Get and turn around", he said again.

As the haze of confusion cleared, realization dawning on Jasmine like the sudden clarity of sunrise, she obeyed Damian.

Her legs, shaky with a delicious mixture of anticipation and need, slowly uncurled from beneath her, the cool washroom tile sending a shiver up her spine as she rose to her feet.

With her heart racing in her chest, a steady rhythm that matched the frenzied beating of his, she stood before Damian, her eyes searching his face for a hint of what was to come.

With a primal urgency that spoke of his hunger, Damian's hands reached for Jasmine's waist, spinning her around, her back against him.

His hands, rough and hungry, pulled her skirt upwards until it bunched around her waist, exposing the lacy, silken panties that hugged her hips with a sensual grace.

As Jasmine stood before him, her body thrumming with a tingling, lust-fueled energy, her hips tilting ever so slightly as she bent forward, her hands coming to rest on the cool tile of the washroom wall.

With her head bowed, her hair cascading down her back in a silken waterfall, she awaited Damian's next move, her breath hitching in her chest as anticipation and desire pooled in her belly.

As the frantic beating of his heart echoed in his ears, Damian's gaze swept over the exposed expanse of Jasmine's silken thighs, his fingers still hovering over the delicate fabric of her panties.

Torn between his hunger and his inexperience, he hesitated, his eyes darting nervously to the door of the washroom, half-expecting it to burst open at any moment, revealing their illicit tryst.

He grabbed the edge of the panties and began to pull them down.

"What are you doing?" Jasmine whispered, the confusion in her voice evident.

"Pulling it?" Damian stammered, his voice thick with uncertainty.

"There's no need for that," she said softly, her breath grazing his ear as she reached for his hands. "Just shift it to the side."

"Uhmm..." Damian's voice trailed off, his words tinged with the raw honesty of his inexperience. "I'm not sure I'd be able to find your... if I did that," he said, his cheeks burning with embarrassment, hoping his statement wouldn't give her the ick.

Jasmine, sensing his unease, gave his hand a gentle squeeze, her touch a silent reassurance of her desire for him. "It's okay," she murmured, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Just follow my lead."

Jasmine's words, their kindness and acceptance a soothing balm to Damian's fears, had the unintended effect of stoking the raging flames of his desire, his arousal now burning with a painful intensity that threatened to consume him whole.

His manhood throbbed, pulsing with the weight of its need as it brushed against the supple skin of her inner thighs, a silent plea for relief that hung heavy in the air.

"Okay, okay," Damian murmured, the ache in his loins overwhelming his nervous uncertainty, as his hands finally slipped beneath the elastic of Jasmine's panties, shifting the delicate fabric to the side.

The touch of her skin, silky and warm against his throbbing length, sent a surge of heat coursing through his veins as he pressed himself against the folds of her sex, his rod quivering with anticipation as he sought the entrance to her treasure.

With a gentle grasp, Jasmine's fingers curled around the rigid length of Damian's shaft, her touch a delicate, almost reverent, caress as she helped guide the engorged tip of his manhood to the entrance of her slickened folds.

A single nod, a silent beckoning, and Damian's hips jerked forward, breaching the threshold of her womanhood with a carnal hunger that echoed through the tiny confines of the washroom.

"Ohh," Jasmine's moan was soft, almost a whimper of pleasure, as she felt the head of Damian's member sliding past her inner lips, sinking into the slickened embrace of her womanhood.

Her body surrendered, her muscles contracting around the rigid intruder in a rhythmic embrace, the intense pleasure, sending a rush of heat through her veins as she writhed beneath him, her hands digging into the cool tile of the washroom wall for support.

Damian's body, stiff with anticipation, now shuddered and trembled with a rapturous delight that left him stunned into silence, his mind whirling in a maelstrom of ecstasy as the primal act of coitus overwhelmed every sense.

Forget the whispered tales of sweaty locker room bravado, the pornographic fantasies that had fueled his imagination for so long. This was different, this was a crescendo of pleasure that defied all his expectations, the searing heat of their union a white-hot flame that threatened to burn away the last vestiges of reason and restraint.

As Damian's manhood sank deeper and deeper into the tight, slick walls of Jasmine's sex, he felt as if he were being consumed by the very fires of passion itself, every thrust, every pulsing wave of pleasure coaxing him closer to the brink of orgasm.

But Damian was not a fool, and despite the rapturous embrace of her cave, the intoxicating scent of their mingled sweat and the delicious heat that flooded his veins, he forced the inevitable back, determined to prolong this first, primal union for as long as he could.