Her name was Jasmine. She was tall, slender, and one
of the most alluring people I'd ever seen. She had
amber red hair, ruby red lips, and the deepest,
greenest eyes I'd ever seen. They almost glowed and
had an innocence you couldn't refuse. Little did I
know our entire relationship was planned from the
beginning. Every moment, minute to minute, was
carefully calculated, planned, and exquisite. From the
first I saw her in the bar I knew our paths would
cross in some way, and I hoped they would be "good".
Her eyes were upon me from the first moment she
entered the room. Her eyes were locked on mine as she
walked across the room. I wanted to look away, wanted
to stare at her long sexy legs that led somewhere
under her red mini-skirt, wanted to look at her full
flush breasts. I wanted to, but that had little to do
with the current situation, her eyes were on mine and
mine were of their own mind and unable to move.
As she came up to my table my legs, too became of
their own mind and I found myself standing there
kissing the softest, sweetest, most dangerous lips in
the world. She took my hand and led me outside to her
car. Not a word was spoken as we drove to her house.
Not a word was spoken as we walked to the door. Not a
word was spoken as we entered her room.
Then heavenrang in my ears, "Tonight you live forever."
She had spoken and her voice was just like her body,
sexy, mysterious and irresistible. She pushed on my
shoulders forcing me to the bed. She tore my shirt
from my chest and threw it carelessly across the room,
laying me back on the bed she removed the rest of my
clothes. With her legs straddled over my chest she
removed her top to reveal her smooth full breasts. She
slid down like a snake moving closer to its prey
pressing her breasts to my mouth momentarily before
stealing them away and replacing them with her lips.
After a long deep kiss she worked her kisses down my
body covering every inch of my chest and stomach.
Bliss. She rapped her long fingers lightly around my
cock, licked it ever so slowly, and took it in her
mouth inch by inch. The look in her eyes as she
covered every inch of my dick with those luscious lips
was one of total control. I was hers. What she wanted,
she would have and the fact she knew it was even more
enthralling. Stopping she pulled my lips to her
breasts as she removed her skirt and panties in one
I kissed and caressed every inch of her
breasts and neck I could before she stopped me. Moving
further up she again rapped her fingers around my
cock, but this time it wasn't her mouth that engulfed
it. We made love and it was like nothing I'd ever felt
in my entire life. For hours we moved in time, perfect
rhythm. Surely this must be a dream, I must be passed
out at home, drunk on the couch no doubt. If I was
dreaming let me never wake up. I could die this way
and be content, or so I thought. I woke in the morning
with all the symptoms of a hangover, but I wasn't at
home. I found a clock, some ungodly hour of the
morning I was sure. Six O'clock. It was damn bright
for Six O'clock in the morning. The curtains were open
and the world was alive outside my window, but she was
nowhere to be seen. Thirsty. Tired. Sleep won.
When I woke again she was there, dick in mouth waiting
for me to look at her. I should have stayed asleep. My
eyes found hers and then, floating, no not floating
passing out, dying. This sensation, where was she? Her
lips were on my neck and I was dying, closer and
closer by the second. 'Please someone call. I wanna
wake up. I'm tired of this dream. Salt water, no,
thicker. BLOOD.' What in the hell was this woman doing
to me. Then the word slammed to the front of my mind
like a cannon point blank to a duck. 'Vampire!'
I awoke in MY apartment lying on MY couch. There was
no woman. There was no blood. There was no red
mini-skirt, that part I wouldn't have minded to
terribly. I stood and walked to the bathroom.
As I passed the answering machine I ritualistically
glanced at the number, then on to brush my teeth and
Rather un-ritualistically after a Saturday night at
the bar I didn't have to piss. I brushed my teeth.
'This toothpaste tastes like shit. I had messages, how
many did it say.? Wait 17 messages! What the fuck?!?'
I pressed play and my boss was on the machine.
"Joseph, Joseph! Damn it Joseph wake the fuck up.
Look I told you you're drinking would be the end of you,
it's Monday morning and if your ass isn't in your
office by ten there's gonna be hell to pay. JOSEPH.
Damn it at least call-in, shit." Monday?, what in the
hell? Next message. "Joseph, this is Patricia. Anyway
I haven't heard from you in a while, just wanted to
make sure we're still on for tonight. . ." Patricia?
We weren't supposed to go out until Wednesday. Quick
find the clock. Friday night.! What the fuck is going
on? Again it hit me and again the duck was dead.
And that's how it began. After that it only took me
twenty-five years to gather enough money to buy the
bar. Next time it would be on my terms, next time the
plan would be mine. I tire of this damned place. I
tire of sitting here night after night waiting, hoping
to see a pair of long sexy legs leading somewhere
under a red mini-skirt and a set of full flush
breasts. I tire of it, but here I'll sit. Here I'll
wait in the same booth, at the same table, in the same
bar, waiting for the same woman, forever.
Montravont is a 26 year old from SanDiego, CA. At the
time of writing this piece he was only 21 years of age.
Montravont is a fan of science fiction and fantasy and an
aspiring novel writer. His more recent works can be
found on his DeviantArt site at