Sips of Blood (20 page)

Marie drank sparingly of his blood and shared
only enough of her own to keep Keith in the limbo between death and
vampirism.

Using a portion of his T-shirt, Marie wiped
the blood from her lips.

"Now you will not die. Of course, you will
not have much of a life, either. You will be a vegetable and be
cared for as I care for my pretty delicate flowers."

Chapter 36

The lake reflected the blueness of the sky.
Earlier Cecelia had feared that it would rain, but once she and
Louis pulled up to the lake on his Harley, the sun seemed to rush
from behind a cloud to welcome them. Leaping off the cycle, she
hurried down to the small sandy beach. There were rumors that the
water had been polluted by the last major storm. Waste sludge
supposedly had been carried in streams that led to the lake.
Cecelia didn't care. Immediately she kicked off her sneakers and
ran into the water. The water was chilly, but not cold, and if the
sun stayed out, she figured the water would warm up quickly. She
walked into the water up to her thighs, still a good distance from
the ends of her cutoff denim shorts. Resisting the temptation to
remove her halter top, Cecelia stooped over to pick up a handful of
water, which she released above her head. Knowing that the white
material of the halter would become transparent when wet, she
scooped up a second handful, tossing it against her breasts.

When she turned to get Sade's reaction, she
found that he had already headed for the shack.

"Louis!" she dared yell. "Louis, come into
the water."

He never turned around. Instead he twisted
the knob on the door and let the door swing open on its own. She
watched him poke his head inside, but he seemed reluctant to move
his entire body into the ramshackle hut.

"It's safe," she yelled. "Besides, we're not
going to need it. See, the sun is out." She raised her hands to the
sun in adoration.

Sade slipped off his black leather jacket and
let it fall to the ground. She always marveled at what tight
buttocks he had in his jeans. Tight certainly for an old man. His
black silk shirt was a contrast in texture and fit to the jeans.
The sleeves of the shirt were blousy. The cut of the shirt was full
but still tapered.

His white hair, cut just short of his
shoulders, blew in the swiftness of a summer breeze. A few shaggy
strands fell onto his forehead as he looked down at the two steps
leading into the shack.

"Louis!" she called again, but he climbed the
steps and disappeared inside.

Reluctantly Cecelia made her way back to the
beach, picking up her sneakers on her way to the shack.

"Louis, you should try out the water." She
jogged up the two steps and ran into the shack.

Sade sat with bent knees on the wood floor,
his back against the fake wood paneling of the wall.

"Sit down,
ma chère.
First close the
door behind you."

"But we should at least let some sun in, or
it'll be real dreary in here."

"Shut the door, Cecelia."

Compelled by the sound of his voice, she
followed his instructions. As soon as the door closed, Sade pulled
off his aviator sunglasses.

Even in the dimness of the shack, or perhaps
because of it, Cecelia could see how white his flesh appeared under
the blackness of the shirt. He seemed to glow, and his eyes shined
a warm invitation. What the hell, she'd be able to reinforce her
tan tomorrow.

She flung her sneakers across the tiny room,
but when she sat down in front of Sade she felt the sharp pierce of
a splinter enter her right buttock.

"Owww," she moaned. Lifting her buttock off
the floor, she tried to locate the splinter.

"A problem,
ma chère?"

"I have a splinter in my fanny."

"Viens ici,
let me help." He moved
forward, tucking his knees under him.

She felt his hands gently touch her flesh.
His fingers were long, the nails well-manicured. But his touch was
cold. Frigid, she thought, as he kneaded her flesh in search of the
splinter.

"It's further up," she said, rising to her
knees so that he would have a better view.

His left hand moved to her left buttock, and
he massaged the soft baby fat of her ass.

"It's on the right side of my fanny," she
said, not pulling away from his touch. "Ow! Right there. You've
found it."

"Much too soon,
ma chère."

Her rear shivered when he plucked the
splinter out. She slipped her hands under his and began rubbing her
own ass.

He pulled himself up onto his knees and
pressed his body against hers. She could feel the hardness of his
cock. With a gulp Cecelia cleared her throat.

"Have you seen the rest of the place?" she
asked.

"I've seen only a portion of what I want to
see," he answered.

Immediately she pulled away and stood.

"Over here we keep our cigs," she said,
walking to the far wall. She pulled up a beige tarp and revealed
several packs of cigarettes. "Sometimes we have weed when one of us
can afford it. We're broke now." She looked back at Sade and found
that he hadn't moved. His hands appeared to be turned palms outward
exactly where her buttocks had been.

"Louis?"

"Oui."
He stood and faced her with an
obvious bulge disrupting the smoothness of his denim jeans.

Her eyes lingered a bit too long on his
groin.

"Would you take pity on me,
ma petite
chérie?"

"Uh?" Confronted with the opportunity that
she had been fantasizing about, her confidence wilted.

What if she were too inexperienced? What if
he didn't like her body? Oh my God, when was her period due?

"The Hibachi is over there," she said,
pointing to a sooty object in a dark corner of the room. "My friend
and I can stay here all day. We'd probably sleep here, except our
parents would blow a gasket."

"With whom do you spend the day?"

"My girlfriend, of course. Once I invited
Joey down here. He's my... a guy who kind of likes me."

"And what did you and Joey do here?"

Cecelia was confused. She wasn't used to the
burning flush stinging her cheeks.

"Do?"

"Yes. That day that you spent here with Joey.
What did you two do?"

Sade stood perfectly still. A meanness seemed
to creep into his blue-eyed stare. He opened several buttons of his
shirt, and she could see the curly gray hairs that lay flat on his
chest. She wanted to fluff up the hair, feel their downy
softness.

He opened the rest of the buttons and removed
his shirt.

"Ah, it is hot in here."

"That's why we should be in the water," she
mechanically replied.

Sade used his right thumb to undo the snap on
his jeans. He continued to stare at her.

Cecelia swallowed several times. Being with
Joey was never this excruciatingly embarrassing. Things just seemed
to happen when she was with him. Here the world had gone into slow
motion, and she felt that she had to make a real decision. Making
love with Louis Sade would not be an unbridled passion that she
couldn't contain. She had to make the choice.

Suddenly she smelled the odor of her own sex.
The moistness of her genitals fed the burning heat of her vagina.
Her nipples ached, and the coolness of the water had dissipated
while her breasts burned to be touched.

Another gulp of saliva slid down her throat
as she undid the tie on her halter top.

Joey liked her breasts, but Joey had only
been with one other girl. What did he know?

On the other hand, she was sure Sade had
tasted the most exquisite of actresses and models. Women both young
and old.

Cecelia took a deep breath and dropped the
ends of the halter top. She saw a smile widen his thin lips. He
liked what he saw. She too undid the snap on her denims, but she
had to use two fingers, since her thumb couldn't steady itself on
the snap.

"Shall we play Simon Says?" Sade asked.
"Oui?"

Again the decision had to be made
consciously.

"Yeah," she answered.

"Simon says..." Sade slipped the jeans down
over his hips and let them drop to his ankles before stepping out
of them.

This is not Joey, she thought, staring at the
ampleness of Sade's erection.

"Are we still playing the game,
ma
chère?"

This isn't a game,
she thought.
This is the real thing. A true man and not a boy.

She rued the baby fat clinging to her hips
and belly. But if she let the moment pass, he might not give her
another opportunity.

She squeezed out of her tight denim cutoffs
and pulled her thongs off with the shorts.

"Come here,
ma chère."

He did not use the French word
ici.
Instead he spoke in clear English. She had to give herself; he
would not take unless offered.

Slowly she moved closer, feeling sweat form
under her armpits, smelling the odor of her sex, even stronger
now.

"Touch me." He spoke the words softly, but
with a firmness she dared not ignore.

She reached out to touch his chest, and he
shook his head. Her hand dropped down to his erection, and it
quivered in her hand.

Sade and she lowered their bodies onto the
floor.

"Ma petite fille,
taste me."

She heard demand mixed with patience.

Her free hand felt the down on his chest.
Silky.

He placed his hand atop her head and gently
pressed down until her mouth was even with his penis. Again he
whispered.

"Taste me."

Her lips parted, and she filled her mouth
with the breadth of his passion.

Chapter 37

Slow, Sade reminded himself. The young dove
would flee if she realized the extent of his passion. As her head
bobbed, her butt rose high. Such a morsel, he thought. An ass that
could take the sting of a thousand lashes. An ass that could be
made to take the fullness of his cock.

Sade lay back on the wood floor and vowed to
control his needs. A step at a time, he told himself. To beat or
draw blood now would rob him of the future delights that he had
planned. Let the young one feel that she is in charge now. Later he
would have his turn. Eager to prove herself, she would gladly meet
all his demands, he knew.

Sade reached down and drew her body up
against his. He noticed the pulsing in her neck. Not yet, he
reminded himself. He would feast on her in degrees until she
submitted to his every command. Her need for him would grow in
proportion to the confidence she had in her skill.

His hand felt the excessive wetness between
her legs. The probing of two of his fingers revealed the heat
inside her. Her body moved without her control. Instead her flesh
fed on primal concupiscence.

He pushed her shoulders back and grabbed hold
of her thighs, setting her astride his groin, his cock pressed
against the smoothness of her slightly rounded tummy.

Cecelia raised her body and spread herself
apart with one hand while guiding his cock with the other.

Little by little he slipped inside her. Her
desire to fully take him in overcame the moment of pain that
flashed on her face.

Sade restrained himself for a few seconds,
allowing her body to adjust to the forced expansion. Cecelia began
moving first. He allowed her to pace the movement. She must think
she wields some of the power, he thought,
until I show her the
inevitable truth. Her body is mine. Her will has been
broken.

She moved faster, the pulse in her neck more
pronounced, making him remember the taste of blood.
Ah, to see
rouge blood stain her neck.

Her breaths came in pants, and he heard her
mewl when he touched her clitoris.

Control. He had never given up the control.
He would only lend the control to her so that she would have none
of her own left.

Chapter 38

Sade dropped Cecelia off where he had picked
her up. The sex had been good, and under his tutelage he knew she
would get better. His blood hunger overcame his senses as he sped
ninety miles an hour down the deserted road.

He needed to feed. Some needed to light a
cigarette; he needed the metallic taste of blood.

He knew shanties existed down the road,
hovels in which families tried to survive, scared families that
avoided authority. They settled disputes themselves. They educated
their own, and births hardly ever got recorded.

He had taken a few lives there. Children were
the least likely to be missed, since a child's death meant one less
mouth to feed.

The dirt road leading to the shanties was
nearby. Sade slowed to catch his turnoff.

A crumbling fence and a useless mailbox
marked the spot. He had been told that originally a large, mostly
inbred family had lived in a rambling Victorian house on this land.
The house burned down one summer evening and the family scattered,
although most town people believed that the residents of shanty
town were the progeny of that old family.

The scent of beans and ham cooking reached
Sade. Not a meal he would enjoy, but he understood that the people
here were able to grow their own beans and successfully raise pigs.
Quite a limited diet, he thought.

He chuckled. And what would the shanty people
think of his diet? There were vampires that only drank blood, never
touched the food meant to fatten their prey.

Before seeing the shanties, Sade pulled to
the side of the road. From here he would go by foot.

One child would not be sufficient to sate his
sexually charged appetite. The elderly sat around in groups waiting
to be plucked by death, but not by Sade. His blood needed to be
refreshed, rejuvenated.