Fragments

The club is dark, the dance music is a loud pulsing beat. Lots of people crowd the dance floor, though it’s perhaps a little more sparse than normal for a Saturday night.

I notice a police officer standing over by entrance. He seems nervous. The stories circulating in the local papers about a serial killer no doubt have him on edge.

The lengthy bar curves around a corner and is quite busy. I sit on a padded barstool sipping my beer and staring across the club at her. I’ve been stalking her for weeks, trying to work up the nerve to talk to her.

She is a pale willowy blonde with a pair of large teardrop breasts. Her outfit is tight and black, emphasizing her lush curves. She moves with the grace of a dancer. Her lips are full and cherry red. Her expression is sultry. She sits at the bar staring into the crowd intently.

I sip my drink. The **** burns my throat. I’m thirsty, but lately, I’ve found **** less desirable.

I start to stand up, ready to walk over to her. I pause. A man steps next to her and offers her a drink.

She smiles at him. Her bright white teeth make her look angelic.

I sit back down, worried I’ve lost my opportunity. I wring my hands. My neck aches. I think I slept on it wrong. I feel both nauseous and hungry.

I watch, as they engage in mindless chitchat. They keep talking. I fume. I order another drink and nurse it.

They are still talking as I down the last of it. It is late. She takes his hand and leads him to the exit.

I scowl. Still they’ll be other nights. She hasn’t found the right one, because it’s me.

To my surprise a brunette sits next to me. She is short, but thin and quite busty. Her dress is tight enough to hide nothing. It’s white color contrasting her tan skin.

“Care to buy a girl a drink?”

Her breath smells of ****. She is drunk, but clearly is interested in me.

“Bartender, can you get my friend a drink?”

“If we’re friends, call me Gemma.” She slurs.

The bartender sits a chocolate martini down by her. She sips it and runs her hand up my inner thigh.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

I smile. What she’s going to say isn’t a secret.

“I want to fuck you.” She whispers in my ear.

Ever curious, I stare into her eyes. “Why?”

“You’re very attractive, but I think it’s your eyes. It’s like you can see my soul.”

I take her hand and kiss it. I know she’s aroused.

“Where would you like to go, Gemma?”

“Fuck, somewhere close. I want you, now.”

I know the club and I lead her to a back room. My thoughts are of my blonde. I wonder if she’s fucking that man now.

We reach an empty room in the back. I pull her into a kiss. I feel her hands playfully stroking my cock.

I rip off her shirt.

For just a moment I have a strange sense of deja vu. I remember tearing the shirt off another girl, a blonde.

I pinch Gemma’s nipples and she moans in pleasure.

“Fuck me! Stick it in!”

The phrase sounds familiar. I can almost picture lush red lips mouthing the phrase.

I feel my lust rising. I drop my pants exposing my large rock hard cock.

The brunette glances back. “Mmm, nice equipment.”

I push her tight to the wall and drive my cock into her pussy. She moans. I grab her wrists and hold her tight as I plunge deep into her sex and back almost out.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” She moans, the pitch higher than my hazy memories of my last lover..

As I near my climax, my lust for her sex is at an apex, but I feel another hunger. I feel a pressure in my mouth. I run my tongue along my canines and find them razor sharp. I cut my tongue and taste my blood. My new hunger goes wild.

I feel the brunette is on the edge. I pick up the pace. I mean for us to cum together. My cock twitches and I shoot my load. That pushes her over the edge. Her body spasms as her orgasm takes her.

I strike her neck sinking my fangs into her carotid. She gives a muffled scream, then climaxes again. Her blood, her life explodes into me and I remember.

I remember approaching the blonde. I remember our small talk. I remember her name. Serena stroked my palm and asked if I wanted to fuck her. I told her I wanted her, I told her I wanted her now.

She pulled me into the alley. It stunk of urine, ****, and filth.

“Are you sure you want to fuck here? It doesn’t look very sanitary.”

“That’s ok, I’m a very dirty girl. Take me doggy style.”

I couldn’t believe my luck.

I ripped off her shirt and she shed her pants. She knelt down on all fours in alley and I entered her from behind. I grabbed her shoulders and drove my cock into her. I arched my back and slid outwards. I got into a perfect rhythm. I felt her climax.

“Fuck! Don’t stop!”

I continued. Twice more I felt her body spasm. On the last one I came.

I remember her turning to look at me. I screamed when I saw her fangs. She lunged at my neck with startling speed. My scream died as she sunk her fangs in my neck.

I remember the pain, the awful slurping as she drank my blood.

I remember laying there broken, staring into her beautiful eyes.

“You’re a very lucky boy. Most of my suitors don’t survive a night with me. Now, you will go home and forget this ever happened. Come see me after you’ve tasted blood. You’ll know where to find me.”

I remember waking up in my flat, wondering how much I had to drink. My clothes stunk of **** and something else. My memories of the night before were lost in a haze. I must have had a good time.

The brunette twitches breaking my reverie. I grin. I lick her blood from my lips. I need to find my blonde, my Serena. Instinctively, I know just where she is.