We met at a cafe. Me, putting skimmed milk to my cold coffee on the DIY counter and him paying for his steaming coffee at the cashier. I happened to look at him and smiled politely. He smiled back, deepening his dimples.
The next thing I knew was that we were seated at the same table, facing each other. We shook hands, laughed, and told each other our names at the same time. His was James, mine was Maris. Nothing graceful came out of that introduction as he accidentally tripped my coffee off and had it spilled over my skirt. It was my lucky skirt and I was on my way to a job interview - having just graduated from college with a degree in Advertising.
I wanted to be angry but my gut was telling me to not be and to screw that interview and run off with him. And so I did.
He apologized vaguely as I pulled him off his seat and told him that it was okay. I looked at his eyes and damn, they're so blue. And he has the sexiest lips I've ever seen. He happily obeyed, stood up, left some tip at the table and ran off with me.
I know we just met five minutes earlier but there I was, shopping for a new skirt and him paying for it after he insisted that he needed to and ignored my refusal. Our next stop was my bedroom. I know it was very fast and so sudden but he's the prettiest guy I’ve met and that he's also such a gentleman who has the cutest laugh ever.
We barely made it inside when he took my shirt off in one swift motion and threw it on the floor, with our lips crashing to each other's. I unbuttoned his shirt in a blink, surprised at my speed when I hadn't experienced doing this. My past boyfriend was always trying to play it cool and loved to wear t-shirts all the time, no matter what occasion. We stumbled on the floor with him on top as I tripped on my carpet. He took that opportunity to slide my skirt off my lower half and I happily did the same thing to him with his jeans afterwards. He kissed so gentle yet so expertly, as if he'd traveled this road down before.
A hum escaped from both our lips, both satisfactorily. He arched my back and unhooked my bra with one hand while the other one, traveled along my belly to my thighs and ripped my panty. He was so good - hitting two birds, with technically one stone. Although he was wearing boxers, I could feel his prized possession manning up to me and it wasn't after a long time after I managed to get that strip of clothing outta him and had him inside of me. And God did it feel good. We didn't have any protection but I sure was confident I wouldn't get pregnant - based on my monthly calendar.
Every time our eyes met, lust, greed, satisfaction and hunger radiated and took over. I had no idea where that came from but damn did it turn me on. We did great. I was able to keep up with his erotic pattern inside of me. I arched my hips higher so I could have him deeper and he kissed me so ferociously with extreme force.
We rolled on the floor and took turns on being the top and bottom. I sweated so hard and surprisingly, he didn’t. I became tired and wanted to stop. In that moment, I wanted to just lie down and cuddle with the man I had just met. But he looked like he'd just downed a dozen bottles of Red Bull and had no intention of quitting. Because he was so damn good, I opted to not spoil the moment. I have no idea when I was going to experience this rollercoaster ride again.
As his mouth left mine, he planted kisses from my neck down to my belly then back up again - each time stopping at my breasts and taking turns on sucking at my nipples. When he stopped on my neck, that was when he bit me. I cried out in pain but also sighed in awe as the endorphins traveled on my blood with such sweet ecstasy.
And that was when I passed out.
Damn, the stranger was a fucking vampire. God, it was too late when I realized.
I should have known better.