Midnight Thirsts: Erotic Tales: Erotic Tales of the Vampire by Michael Thomas Ford & Greg Herren & Timothy Ridge & Sean Wolfe

Author:Michael Thomas Ford & Greg Herren & Timothy Ridge & Sean Wolfe [Ford, Michael Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp
Published: 2004-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

I had finished all my work for Mr. Tarry and called him to let him know. He came to pick up the ledger and gave me a check before he left. I could finally have a few moments to myself as the sun began its descent over the hills on the western bank of the Hudson River.

I made coffee, adding a hint of whiskey to it before making my way out of the back door of the house, walking between the cypress trees and following a path of stone steps overgrown with grass. I made a mental note to call my neighbor, whose son cut my lawn for a small fee. My uncle, a fantastic landscaper, had built a small circular stone patio on the river’s edge. Two wrought-iron chairs faced the water. A treated wood table sat between the chairs. I set my coffee cup on the table and lowered myself onto the iron chair. It was more comfortable than it looked.

I wanted to be as far away from the necklace as possible. I had seemed to disappear for an entire day when I’d worn the necklace the day before. I shuddered, thinking of my meeting with Favreau. I didn’t fully know what to make of it. I felt the way I imagined a person who’d been possessed might feel after the invading entity had left his body—I felt violated and more guarded now. Yet there still lingered a curiosity about the life of vampires, particularly the life of Favreau and Rocerres. As mental images of the day before flipped through my mind, I found myself somewhat aroused.

I ran my hands over my chest, where the gem had rested, feeling the warmth of my skin. Overall, I felt drained, as if I had orgasmed nonstop for an entire day. I wondered if I would ever meet Favreau in my own reality, or if the meetings would be confined to some alternate time-space continuum that he was able to create. I was in awe of the powers he must possess. I thought of myself touching him, feeling his inhuman skin, tasting it. I ran my tongue over my teeth and fleetingly wished that I had those great and terrible fangs. I fantasized briefly about Kyle. I didn’t think about our sexual interludes, instead exploring something much darker. I put myself in the preternatural shoes of a vampire. Made my mental self into a vampire. I pictured Kyle’s head snapped back, his eyes full of fear and longing; the same emotions I had when Favreau or Rocerres was near me. I would lower my fangs to Kyle’s neck and tease him with the possibility of death, the overwhelming sensation of being drained.

But what would it be like to be refilled by the strange blood of the vampire? I wondered.

I sat back and closed my eyes for what I thought was only a minute. My eyes shot open, and I jumped from my seat when I felt someone’s hand rest on my shoulder.

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