Tryst with a Vampire

Tryst with a Vampire

Bella Adams

Copyright © 2015 Bella Adams

All rights reserved.

DEDICATION

To my fellow ex-cubicle dwellers. You know who you are.

SPECIAL THANKS

to Tori Davis

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A shout out to my editor, Ellen Tomlin. Thanks for the encouragement.

Tryst with a vampire

              The moon that sat up on the black sky really did nothing to give the rural lands any light. John had traveled through the rural lands and fields thinking about how much he hated the open country. He liked the darkness but hated the sparsely populated regions.

              So dull.

              Like the yellow lights coming out of the cafe window in the middle of nowhere.

              He smirked as he saw the “OPEN” sign facing out from the window.

              John had not eaten in weeks. He could eat normal food for sustenance for only so long. He had to feed.

              He entered the cafe with headed straight for the table in the furthest corner. The darkest corner where he could eat alone. Undisturbed.

              John didn't like people that much. They only served one purpose for him.

              He grabbed the menu off the table and sniffed at the usual fare. Cheeseburgers given special names like the “Big Kahuna” and “Heart Attack Harry”.

              “Hi there.”

              John heard the waitress' voice before he saw her. He didn't look up, just stared at the menu.

              “Have you decided?”

              “Three steaks, please.”

              “How would you like those cooked.”

              “Rare. As rare as you can get away with,” he handed the waitress the menu.

              “And to drink?”

              “Bloody Mary, please.”

              “We don't have alcohol, sir, sorry.”

              “Cherry coke, then.”

              She came back with a cherry coke and the steaks came back within minutes. Blood swam
around the plate as he cut into the red flesh of the animal. And, like an animal, he ate this meal with his hands, desperate to get the food in to his stomach as quickly as possible. He ate like it could be his last meal for months - and it very well may be. When he finished, he glanced around the café to see if anyone had their eye on him. Then he drank the blood from the plate, spilling it past the corners of his mouth and onto his chin and chest.

              John set the plate back down and the waitress took it with him noticing. He just stared out of the window and gazed at the majestic, barren landscape. Maybe he could get used to the country, he thought. Mountains, fields and forests as far as he could say.

              Not a sign of human life. Except for this cafe.

              “Anything else?”

              “I'm sorry, what?” John looked up startled.

              “How about another Cherry coke? You downed it like you were dehydrated, no offense.”

              “Oh sure, thanks.”

              He looked into the waitress' eyes for the first time. Snow white skin and eyes as blue as a pristine lake.

              John could not help but be taken aback by her hair. Red as fire. Surely dyed, but it gave her an exotic look that he never encountered before. He thought she looked like a painting or a porcelain doll.

              He could feel she felt the same kind of attraction toward him. She stared at his perfect jawline and the most piercing gray eyes that she had ever seen.

              “There's something mysterious about you,” she blurted out. “You have nice eyes. Like they are full of secrets and stories.”

              “Thank you,” he muttered.

              “I'm sorry,” she said. “I don't know why I said that.”

              “Have you ever looked at someone,” he touched her hand. “And instantly felt attraction. Like there was something exciting and dangerous about them. Like you could spend a lifetime getting lost in their eyes, like you had never seen true beauty until you saw them for the first time.”

              “I-” she stuttered.

              “Trina!” a voice bellowed from the kitchen.              

              They stared at each other for another second.

              “Trina!” the voice, now angry, broke their spell.

              She spun around quickly, splashing the Coke on the table.

              John looked over and saw a man about twenty years the senior of the waitress standing in the doorway of the kitchen. A short man with a protruding stomach, the kind of round belly and red nose that John saw as a symptom of an alcoholic. He looked like a stereotypical diner cook with his slick backed, graying hair that combed over a growing bald spot.

              The man took a sip from a can of cheap beer, the droplets dripping from his white goatee.

              Trina walked back over to the old buffoon, hurrying under his steely gaze. John noticed that she walked with her shoulders hunched and her head low, like a child wh had been schold.

              As she made his way into the kitchen, he noticed he grabbed her by the neck and pushed her in.

              John let a few minutes pass. He stared at the kitchen door, thinking about what his pla should by.

              Trina came back out and looked shaken. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her skin looked even paler than before.

              The old man then stormed out of the kitchen and headed straight for the exit. He slammed the door of the cafe shut and the sound made Trina jump.

              John watched Trina stare at the door. He looked back out the window when he heard the truck pull out of the cafe parking lot and watched as the brake lights disappeared into the night.

              When he looked back he found Trina sitting opposite him.

              “Who is he?” John asked.

              “You mean the fat, hairy bastard? That is my husband. Roy.”

              “I see.”

              “He'll leave for weeks at a time. Every now and then he'll be gone long enough to make me think he's not coming back. But then he'll return. I've learned not to keep my hopes up.”

              “So it's like that, huh?” John said with a twinkle in his eye.

              “Yeah,” she said with a seductive smirk. “it's like that.”

**

              John stayed there for hours and they talked about life, the world and their passions. A few people came into the diner but Trina dealt with him quickly and returned to talking to John.

              “Jesus,” Trina said looking up at the clock that showed 3 a.m. “We closed an hour ago. I didn't even notice.”

              “Should I leave?” John asked.

              “Stay,” Trina said, walking over to the door and bolting the locks. She turned the sign around to read “CLOSED.”

              She flicked off the light switches, stealing glances at John as the cafe grew dimmer with every click. Then she sauntered over to his table and stood in front of him, daring him not to admire her beauty.

              John stood up slowly.

              Only an inch separated them, the electricity in that space between them palpable.

              “If you close your eyes,” he said. “You can listen to my breath. Maybe you can hear the quickened beat of my heart.”

              She closed her eyes and he moved closer for a kiss.

              He took her head in his heads and tilted her face up to meet his lips. Their mouths connected in electric passion and she moaned.

              Trina dug her nails into his trapezius, wanting, needing to get closer.

              He spun her around and pushed her forward on the table. She obliged by lifting up her skirt and inviting him in. The danger turned her on. If her husband came back, he would kill them both.

              “Don't think of him,” he said, seemingly reading her mind.

              She shuddered as his hands clasped over both of her shoulders, feeling the excitement of the power he had over her. He pressed against her and ravished her neck; licking, sucking, caressing.

              “On your knees,” he commanded.

              Trina dropped down and knelt before hm. He dropped his pants and she shuddered at the size of his cock. 

              Thick and long, with a throbbing vein running along the shaft. She grabbed his penis with both of her hands and still could not cover the entire length. Then she began to jerk him off, her small hands quickly getting into a rhythm.

              “No,” he said. “Open your mouth.”

              He took his  hands off his cock and began caressing her cheek with the mushroom tip.

              Trina could only close her eyes as her felt the warm heat of his cock head being rubbed all over her face.

              “I said open your mouth.”

              Trina obeyed and sucked the tip slowly. She did it as gently as she could and he caressed her cheek with his free hand.

              “Suck it,” he commanded. “
Suck.
”

              Trina could not fit the whole thing in her mouth. She wanted to use both of her hands to guide it through but he pushed them aside. “Hands free,” he said, forcing her to concentrate on the head. She  sucked hard and her eyes grew wide as it grew another inch in her mouth. It tasted like vanilla and sweat, she could taste the salt from his body.

              John took his cock out and then laid on his back on the table. Trina took the cue and got on top of him. She spread her legs open as far as she could and felt his hot rod drive up into her pussy. She felt his hands grab her ass and bounce her up and down.

              She felt as if she were being split open, he grasped her butt cheeks with both hands and pulled her buns apart, spearing her.

              “Call me Vlad the Impaler,” he growled as he began to thrust his pelvis upwards. 

              Trina screamed from the excruciating pain of his humongous cock. 

              “Take it, Trina,” he said. “Take everything I give you.”

              She nodded. Her body had started to adjust to the girth and length of his dick. The pain lessened while the pleasure increased. Soon her whole body began to convulse.

              Trina yelped in pleasure, collapsing on top of him and digging her nails into his arms.

**

              Trina woke up on the table, hours later.

              “What the hell?” she rubbed her eyes and tried to gather her thoughts. Was that all a dream? Was he real?

              She saw a light in the kitchen and walked toward it on the balls of her feet. She pushed the siwng door open carefully and saw her new lover on the floor.

              John held a bloodied, raw steak to his lips and chewed down on it like a rabid dog. She shuddered as she saw his face and clothes covered in blood.

              She stepped back and the door creaked, causing John to glance up.

              “Are you some kind of freak?”

              “Trina, I can explain-”

              “What in the shit are you doing?”

              John got up and put the steak on the counter. He wiped his face and mouth with a towel then he turned to face Trina.

              “Answer me? Who the hell eats raw meat?”

              “You're going to think I'm crazy but-”

              “Oh, I already think you're crazy-”

              “I'm a vampire,” he blurted out.

              “What?”

              “Just listen,” John said, putting up his hands to placate her as she slowly backed away from him. “I know this is hard to believe, but I am a vampire. I have not eaten in weeks. I have been trying not to drink human blood, but my cravings are just getting strong. Lying next to you, every part of my body was telling me just to do it, just drink, but I did not want to. So I came in here. To have steaks, to have animal blood. It will suppress my cravings for a little while. Please don't be scared. I need to drink, but I am not going to drink from you. I do not want to do this anymore, to be this anymore. But there is nothing that I can do to change who I am. So I drink from animals instead.”

              Trina looked down on the splatter of blood on the ground. She knew John may be mentally unbalanced. She knew she had to call the police but she didn't. Trina felt a mysterious calm as she looked into John's eyes.

              She believed him. She didn't know why. She just did.

              The attraction and animalistic drive to sleep with John had been something she never experienced before.

              John expected her to run. Or about taking off the cross from the wall and shoving it in his face. His heart broke as she backpedaled away from him as he talked.

              He almost winced as she parted her lips to speak. He expected a scream. Or maybe she'd yell at him to get the hell out of her cafe. Either/or, he would honor her request and back off.