her, in the lamest, most porntastic voice I could. “Just thinking about protection.”
All kinds of protection.
“I don’t need protection. Just suck me, Joe.”
Wow.
Green light: go.
Wait. Was there an s at the beginning of that second word, or an f? It had come out in sort of a breathy whisper, so I couldn’t tell right away. “Sorry… what was that?”
“Suck me… ” She threw her head back and gave me a wide berth to her slender neck.
Seriously?
“It’s okay; you won’t hurt me. I’ve done this before.” At least she was reassuring. I looked down, and sure enough there were six pinkish dots, scars from her other vampire lovers, I guess. As if there weren’t enough thoughts about the sex swirling around in my mind, her thoughts came bursting out of her head and spilling into mine. Suck me, vampire boy… suck me… suck me.
Shit.
I was more than halfway to sexing someone I really liked, and who I thought really liked me, and then this. The vampire parts sort of seized control for a second, and I pushed my mouth against her neck, tempted to take her up on her request. My tongue flicked out and licked her skin, tasting the wine in her blood rising to the surface like liquid sugar. I was presented with the dual opportunity of getting laid and satiating my thirst for blood all in one super-hot intertwining, and I was seriously thinking about going for it. My crotch was ready to explode, and now my teeth were, too. I had one hand pulling down my zipper and the other caressing her tender throat, and was ready to dive in at both ends when the most intrusive thought that could ever have occurred showed up.
Louise.
My hard-on was a little less hard after that.
Her voice sounded in my head like a playlist of a single Louise-ism stuck on replay: They’re called sucker fuckers… they don’t have our best interests at heart. They’re like vampire groupies.
Yeah. Megan was one of those.
Everything sort of froze right where it was. I had to know for sure. “Are you… are we just doing this so you can have the whole vampire sex experience?”
Megan sat up. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” She was genuinely confused about it.
“No – I mean… no.” I wasn’t sure for a minute. It had undoubtedly been a long, dry season for me, and here was a hot woman who really seemed to want me, and whom my penis was certain I wanted in return. But I don’t think we wanted something equal from each other. “That’s not what I want, not to bite you. I wanted to… ” I would have finished the thought, but I was pretty sure the moment was over for us both. “You’re a sweet girl, Megan, but this isn’t going to work out. Sorry.” I zipped up and tucked in as I made for the front door, trying to conceal an erection and a wicked set of pumped-up eyeteeth.
I didn’t have enough hands.
I thought sexual insecurity had left me back in adolescence when I hooked up with Dionne. Then it made a smashing return appearance with the crazy ass whack-fest that was Aretha. And it sure cranked up to a new level of What the Hell? with Girl No. 3, even though that never resulted in so much as a hand shake. But this? This made those look like Sex by Numbers. I drove around for a few hours, just clearing my head and hoping my vampire fang equivalent of blue balls would eventually die down.
It didn’t.
My phone buzzed while I drove. It was a text from Megan:
Sorry for the misunderstanding. I thought we were on the same page. Good luck with everything. S:>{
A vampire emoticon. Beautiful. At least she had the decency to use actual words and leave in all the vowels. But I still took the whole messy incident as an insult, I guess.
I wouldn’t have minded at all being used for my dick, but I have all kinds of problems being used for my fangs.
Without really thinking about where I was going, I headed to an all-night store called Sal’s. Hube and I used to hang there after practice, to split a six pack and talk shit about Lazer and his god complex. Maybe I was drawn to the comfort of a familiar place, or maybe I just went because I could get there on auto pilot. I don’t really know. What I do know is that they have a