Affair with the Vampire

Some people think they know everything about vampires. They talk about silver, holy water, stakes, garlic, invitations and other things. I know about vampires because I had an affair with one. I didn’t know it going in, and I think it was nothing like the movies, except that in the end, I went the way of all others. And it is a hard way.

My name is Anna, and I lived in New Jersey. On a whim, I went to New York to find work in my favorite field, theatre. I’m not an actor, and I don’t have any of those skills. I wanted to get into costume design, or something like that. With my caramel Latina skin, long legs, buxom breasts, long, rich black hair and brown eyes, I knew that doors would open on my looks alone.

I was wrong.

One manager took me on a date to “discuss” possibilities for me. We went to a nice restaurant, and I drank too much with his encouragement. He ended up forcing himself on me and taking me anally. Because I am a half-good Catholic, I was happy that he was only interested in my ass and drunk too. You see, good Catholic girls save their “real” virginity for someone special, and frequently allow anal sex before marriage. That was my case.

Another manager made me perform orally on him and came in my mouth. I cried for two days because when he finished, he said he really thought he might have something I could do if I had any experience. But he knew I didn’t and left a twenty-dollar bill for me on the dresser. I’m not a whore, and if I were, I’d work for way more than twenty dollars.

I could have gone home, but my stepfather was always leering at me and I knew it was only a matter of time before that got ugly. So I tried a small theater, one nobody would know by name and I went there. The stage manager was a fascinating man, with long black hair. I noticed his hair first.

He carried himself really well and he looked hot in his blue jeans and collared shirts. We talked for a while and he decided to hire me to work as a stage hand. I learned much as I worked there. A few months later, we wrapped up a show and he invited me out for dinner and drinks. I said yes before he could finish the question.

I had dressed even better than usual, because we always celebrated the end of a show, and I was hoping he’d approach me. It didn’t occur to me at the time that I’d never seen him in the daytime. We worked overnights during show runs because it was more “efficient.” Even my first interview with him was at eight-thirty at night between shows.

But this night, I was focused on him. His deep blue eyes cut through my mind as I struggled to seem interesting to him. But he was interested in me. We ate at a Spanish restaurant. The smells and textures were so alluring. My Paella was nearly perfect, each bite filled my mouth with a taste of seafood and rich herbs. I could taste the simple garlic and the complicated Saffron made my mouth water for more. He, Geoffrey, the stage manager, taught me how to “taste the wine” by scent. I smelled the fruity scent and took it all in. It was the best meal of my life. It was also the last.

Geoffrey told me he was born in London, a long time ago. He explained that he aged well. “I only look young,” he said, “But I’m a very old soul.”

You can’t be over forty,” I replied. He only laughed and poured me another glass of wine.

After a long, leisurely conversation, we went back to his loft. I couldn’t tell how expensive most of the stuff in it was, but I do know I couldn’t have afforded his place in one hundred of my lifetimes. I know that’s an exaggeration, but that’s how it felt. The music was strange to me too. It sounded like it was from the middle ages, or what I would imagine that music sounded like.

And I was feeling cold, but this is hard to describe, at the same time comfortable. He walked over and whisked me up off my feet. I don’t remember much from then, until I was lying in his bed naked. It was as though I was in a trance.

“I didn’t know you were a virgin,” he said.

I was coming to. “But,” I mumbled, “I’m not, sort of.”

“You are a virgin,” he said.

“Sort of,” I protested.

I would later discover that a virgin vampire could produce pure bloods. “I cannot take you without your permission,” he said.

I hesitated. Was this the man with whom I wanted to cross that line? I had a feeling, which is hard to explain. It was comfort, but unease, and they were wound together.

I finally nodded to him and extended my hand. He joined me in bed and gave me a long kiss, carefully cradling my breast in his hand. And I could feel energy surge through me. He began kissing my breasts and stomach, working his way between my legs.

No man had ever kissed me there. But he didn’t kiss. I could feel his tongue caressing my pussy so gently. Energy pulsed through me again and his tongue darted and probed into me and along the lips of my pussy. I found myself clinching the sheets as he caressed my clitoris with his tongue.

And the surge was finally complete as I cried out in ecstasy with orgasms raging through me. My back arched and still he caressed my pussy with his tongue until another, and another orgasm still raged through my body. I could feel my blood coursing through me on the last orgasm.

And then came the sting on the inside of my thigh. It didn’t hurt for long, but it was though I stayed in the last orgasm for days. My body shuddered with passion as I grew colder and colder. And then there was nothing.

To Be Continued: Part 2, Anna Loses Her Virginity on All Hallows Eve