Bill reclined in Jim’s guest coffin. As he lay there, he reflected over the past week.
Returning Amanda and Bob to something close to normal was easy enough, he figured. A few phrases and a wave of the hand were all it took. He did find, much to his culinary delight (but to his rapidly decaying moral dismay) that he had to feed at least once every night or so.
With the union on strike, the option of calling the hunters to have them make all the necessary arrangements for his vampire-related absences was gone. So, Bill had to pay his boss a visit at home, and his soon-to-be former boss’s wife proved to be something of a hellcat; and for being such a good sport—by not-so-willingly allowing his wife to fuck Bill reverse-cowgirl style in front of Derek’s (Bill’s boss’s) whole family—Bill had made Michelle, Derek’s wife, a very frisky and faithful nymphomaniac.
Bill figured it was the least he could do.
But, this trip to New York was a little nerve-racking. Bill had never been too far from Illinois; he had taken a trip to Alexandria, Louisiana to visit an uncle a few times, but he’d never been to the east coast.
‘Jim swears a contact set us up with another Erotic Vampire,’ Bill thought as he passed out in the now-sealed coffin as it was loaded onto the cargo jet. Jim seemed to know everything, even if he did have too much fun letting Bill in on the more amusing parts of being a vampire.
For example, Bill was surprised to learn that vampire hunters weren’t the main enemies of vampires; at least, not since they organized in 1967. Since they no longer went on nighttime vampire killing raids thanks to new rules in their contract, the relationship was simplified and symbiotic: vampires would never know if a hunter killed them, as they’d do so during the daytime; and, because the elimination of vampires would put thousands of hunters out of work, they didn’t hurry themselves to kill all vampires. Besides, they really only went after vampires who turned other people into vampires as something of a habit; as long as Bill refrained from doing that, all would be fine.
The real culprit wasn’t even a type of werewolf, which movies and books had lead Bill to believe. It was, apparently, Leprechauns. Jim explained that all vampires are rich. The money came from Leprechauns (who left pots of gold at random banks in Ireland, banks that employed women who were particularly susceptible to the wiles of vampires), and beings called “ghost writers,” who somehow were always around and wrote down the adventures of vampires the world over for sale as books and internet stories. That explained, at least, why there were so many vampires stories to be found... and why they were so varied.
But, finding another Erotic Vampire was important, Jim had said. He knew only the basic rules, and another of Bill’s kind could be of more help. So, they had boarded a cargo jet and set off for adventure....
---
“Hello, friends!” the vampire, dressed in shorts and a white T-shirt with “Nobody Knows I’m A Gay Vampire” written on it yelled as Bill and Jim climbed out of their coffins at the airport. Bill was amazed that he’d never noticed that most airports had vampire de-coffining zones, but then again, he was learning a lot every day about vampirism.
Jim ran up to the New Yorker vampire and shook his hand. “I take it you’re Andrew, right?” Jim asked.
“My friends call me Ridgeley,” he said as he embraced first Jim and then Bill. “I’m the Whampire you spoke to on the phone before you came out. I’ll take you to Bethany, the Erotic Vampiress.”
Bill raised an eyebrow. “Whampire? Are you trying to be funny, like Captain Jokes here?” he asked, gesturing towards Jim, who’d had a lot of fun over the past few days with Bill.
“No,” Andrew/Ridgeley responded, “I am a Whampire. It’s... a long story, I guess. But, that’s not important. Anne wants you to meet her at a club called Imagio’s; I’ve already arranged for a cab.”
Bill seemed impressed. “A cab, huh? Damn. That’s nice. I’ve never ridden in a cab before; not a yellow one, anyway.”
Andrew the Vampire cast a curious eye towards Bill. “Let me guess: you’re from the Midwest, right?”
Bill answered, “Yes. How could you tell?”
“Heh. Nevermind. C’mon, let’s go,” Andrew laughed as they got into a cab and drove off.
---
The first thing Bill noticed about the place was the smell. Jim, who had been here once before when he was first bitten into the clan, had mentioned that “every night is lady’s night” at Imagio’s, so Bill was expecting the aroma of women, who seemed to constantly be in heat around him.
“It’s palpable; I can tell there are a lot of aroused women in here! Fuck! Do you think I’ll get fat if I ‘eat’ too much here?” Bill asked, his pants straining to hold his erection.
Jim, barely able to contain his laughter, simply said, “We’ll see. C’mon, Bethany said she’d meet us by the bar.”
Bill, though, went right to the dance floor. He had targeted a woman, and looking around, he’d found another handy (and convenient!) “Vampires Only” door. He was sending some pretty erotic signals to his mark, and she was apparently responding to them. At least, that’s what he took her gyrating hips and self-molesting hands to mean.
He approached her, smelling her particular scent and allowing it to permeate to his brain. She was so excited, she hardly noticed when he ran a finger from her shoulder to her neck, and whispered into her ear, “Hey baby, I like your moves. Why don’t you let me... ssssssssssssss....”
He had started hissing right after she spun around and kneed him in the crotch. He doubled over in incredible pain, but she picked him up by the ear and shouted, “Lookie here, ladies! I got me some kind of inferior dildo with a large and annoying attachment!”
Bill was still seeing stars—‘funny how I never really appreciated how painful a good old kick to the balls can be,’ he wistfully thought. She released his ear, and he looked around, to try to get his bearings—and to see if anyone had witnessed his humiliating failed seduction.
He saw women dancing together. He saw them sitting at tables, drinking, some with intertwined fingers. Over in the corner, there were several couples feeling each other’s bodies—all were women. In another corner, there was an apparently guarded restroom, but even the strange woman watching the door was talking to other women. Scanning around further, he saw a couple of women hungrily kissing in front of the vacant stage, and another threesome of girls kissing each other near the female DJ. Finally, he spotted a sign that read, “Yes, They’re All Lesbians.”
Two strong yet feminine hands grabbed his shirt and helped him to a booth against the wall, near the sign he had just read. The woman helping him said, “You shouldn’t have done that. What made you think you’d have any luck?”
He sat at a booth, and she sat opposite him and next to Jim. Bill said, as the pain finally started to disappear, “I can smell you... even though all of this, I know you’re a vampire. Are you the one....”
She stopped him with a hand gesture. As she did, he noticed the bounce of her large breasts—breasts that were displayed in such a way as to draw the attention of anyone who liked boobies. “Hey, eyes up here, pal. Yes, I’m the one you’re looking for. I’m Bethany, the Erotic Vampiress.”
“Bethany,” Bill said, “sorry about... that....”
Bethany noticed Bill’s gaze fall to her chest again. She opened her blouse—rather easily, it seemed to Bill; it was as if that top was made to be easy-access—and showed Bill her perfect tits. “Yes, I’ve got great tits. Now that you’ve seen them, will you please look at my face when you talk?”
Bill was captivated. “Actually, this isn’t helping at all.” When she started to button up, he quickly added, “I didn’t say you should put them away!” But, to his dismay, she did anyway.
Bethany began speaking again, without waiting for Bill’s answer to a question he’d obviously only half-heard. “Clearly, you haven’t been told one of the main rules of Erotic Vampirism: You can’t seduce lesbians. Sorry ‘bout that; I guess I should have had Jim tell you.”
Hearing his name, Jim got up from the booth and said, “Yeah, whatever... listen, I need a snack. Do you mind if I... look around?” Bethany shook her head, and away went Jim, licking his lips like a teenage girl at a flavored lip gloss store.
Bill asked, “Why can’t I bag a few lesbians? I mean, c’mon! I bet I could make them think twice about....”
Bethany visually relaxed, easing back in the booth, and laughed. “Listen, the ghost writers don’t like writing those kinds of stories, so they petitioned to the powers that be. You can’t make gay people go straight; it just doesn’t fare so well amongst the erotica readership—and because of that, it’s not profitable.”
“If you want, though, you can make a straight person gay. For you, that means you can screw any man you want,” she finished, having seen the sulking expression on Bill’s face.
“Oh. Great,” Bill said. Right then, drinks arrived. The waitress clearly expected Bill to pay—‘odd, seeing as how this clearly isn’t the kind of place where a woman expects a man to pay for everything on a date,’ he mused.
“Bill? Use your credit card. You’ll find it in your pants pocket.”
Bill didn’t carry any cards, but to his surprise, he found one right where Bethany said it’d be. He gave it to the waitress, indicating he’d give a 40% tip. She came back with his receipt a moment later, visibly happier.
“Here’s the great part, Bill. All the bills go to little folks who live in Ireland who have no shortage of pots of gold. Isn’t that great! It’s like free money! But, we do have to work for it,” Bethany said. “Oh,” she continued, “call me Beth. It’s shorter. Easier on the writers.”
“Beth, I would like nothing more than to do a little feeding. But look around! I can’t get any here. We should go somewhere else, shouldn’t we?”
Beth thought for a moment, and finally responded, “I don’t know, I like it here. Besides, you could try to find some bisexual chicks—no doubt there are a few experimenting college coeds here. But, I’m hungry a little myself.” She stood up from the booth, arched her back and appeared to concentrate on the ceiling.
Almost immediately, Bill could smell the increased arousal of nearly everybody on the large dance floor. Clearly, they were surprised; he slipped into a mind or two (something he’d been practicing so he could control it better) and discovered that she was causing quite a stir in their loins. They were suddenly getting hornier, but they didn’t know why... nor did they care.
“Try making them feel like invisible, slippery hands are roaming their bodies, paying particular attention to their favorite spots. That works great,” Bill suggested.
Beth, who was relaxing from her previous position of mental concentration, cocked her head to the side and said, “OK... there. Done. Did it... whoa!”
Bill was amused at the fact that Beth could not even finish her sentence. The sudden bolt of sensations had spread around the room and now women were beginning to clearly lose all pretense of proper public behavior and undress. As the women fell on one another in a massive, uncontrolled orgy, Beth pointed to three girls and had them approach the booth.
“Here... ooooh, yeah, right there, honey, mmmmmmm” Beth began as two of the girls knelt, one in front and one behind, Beth. They were under her flowing, mid-length skirt in seconds, and judging by Beth’s grinding hip motions, he could only assume they were giving her front and back door a thorough tongue cleaning. “This.... mmmm, is Brandy; pleeeeeeese... oh, don’t stop... mmmmmm, she’s the typical ‘college coed who goes to the lesbian bar because while she prefers men, she secretly wants to fuck women too’ type of... oooooooh! Fuck I just came! Don’t ssssss... stop.... Where was I?”
“You told me she’s the ‘college coed who goes to the lesbian bar because while she prefers men, she secretly wants to fuck women too’ type of girl. What does that have to do with... Aaaaah. I see,” Bill said as it clicked. ‘This one’s bisexual. I get to fuck her.’
Beth, her body moving again thanks to the tongues that were straining to extract another orgasm from her, apparently read his thoughts, because she said, “Yes, you get to fuck her; that’s why her... type... always shows up in erotic stories. Now, get to it. Once we ‘eat,’ I’ll give you a proper tour of the... the... oh my... mmmmmm....”
Bill looked at the confused girl. The sensations were taking a toll on her sanity; she was scared straight for the moment, wanting nothing more than to figure out why she felt like she was being handled by dozens of naughtily exploring hands, and/or a way to stop it. “What’s... oh... happening....”
“Baby, just get them panties off and have a seat,” Bill said in a mock southern drawl (the mystery bi girl’s accent gave her away as somebody from the deep South) as he quickly took his pants and underwear off and sat on top of the table at the booth.
She straddled him as best she could, facing him, and grinding her wet pussy against his manhood like a woman possessed. She was embracing him so closely that he found his mouth near her neck, and for the first time, noticed how inviting the smooth skin looked... how tempting... how... delicious.
As he bit in, her actions sped up, and sooner than Bill wanted, his cock shot his seed into her. He didn’t know how long they had been fucking, or how long he just sat there looking at the twin puncture wounds on Brandy’s neck; but, by the time his senses returned, he noticed that everybody was getting dressed... reluctantly, it seemed.
Beth had her servants kiss each other, and took a seat at the booth. Bill got dressed and did the same, taking down Julie’s number.
“Did ya drain her? How did it taste?? Jim told me you didn’t like blood,” Beth asked.
“Well, I don’t know what happened... but, it’s not too bad. A little salty, but not bad.” Then the tiny, tattered remnants of his conscious flared up, and he quickly blurted, “She’s not going to be a vampire, is she??” He didn’t want this chapter of his life to end because he’d made a vampire in a state where the union wasn’t on strike.
“Her? No, you didn’t bite long enough. But, congratulations! You have a slave. Really, you should have set up a home before you got your first one, but you don’t have to make her move in with you yet. She’ll come to you whenever you summon her with your mind, no matter what distance separates you.”
The molecule of guilt that had struck Bill vanished. “I have so much to learn,” he said a few minutes later as the police arrived. Apparently, word had gotten out about the orgy.
“That’ll have to wait,” Beth said. “Let’s ditch Jim and I’ll show you how to have a real good time. Ever been to London?”
Bill’s eyes narrowed and a mischievous grin came to his face. “No, I haven’t. Shall we?” He took Beth’s hand and they walked to the door. End of Part 2 [1 2 (no 3) 4]