“I can do this.” You tell yourself. This is your first time going to feed without him backing you up. You dressed in your black dress. You love how it feels. The smooth rich fabric that softly glides across your skin.
“Remember to control your thoughts.” Al thinks at you from another room.
“Yes, Al, I will do what we have practiced.” You think as a response.
You look in the mirror. You love how this fitted dress accents your shape. “Yes, you look good in the dress. Do I need to start thinking music lyrics at you to counter this?” the tone of his voice in your head is playfully threatening.
“Anything but that.” You say aloud., and then think “Nothing gets in and nothing gets out.”
You smile at yourself in the mirror as you feel the silence around you.
The bottom hem of the dress softly caresses your bare legs. You thought about wearing stockings or pantyhose under it, but you like the feel of the fabric on your bare legs, and if you decide to pick up someone for sex, this dress provides easy access.
You slide on a pair of pumps, then look in the mirror one last time. “Yes, I am ready to go out.” You softly say to yourself.
Stepping from your bedroom, you see Al lying on the couch reading a book, and listing to music through his headphones.
Your hearing is sharper since you transformed. He has the music low, but you can still tell that he is listening to something from the 1980’s.
“Trying to be one of the “cool kids”?” you joke as you grab your coat.
He puts the book down, and pauses the music. “And what should I be listening to? Do you expect me to always listen to swing and jazz because they were popular when I was younger, or should I listen to psychedelic rock, because I remember seeing many of those bands live, or should I be listening to a lot of ‘80’s goth, because that is the music written for our kind?” he says with that Teacher tone to his voice.
“No. What are you listening to and what’re you reading?” you ask.
“I am reading a cheap sci-fi novel from the ‘80’s, so I wanted to have some music that reminded me of when I first read it. Besides it helped to dampen your thoughts as you got dressed.” He looks you up and down. “So, you are going out for a snack?”
“Yes, and maybe something else. You said I was ready to do this on my own. I guess I am just so used to you accompanying me.” A sound of doubt creeping into your voice.
“You are ready, Betty. go and have a good time.” And he whistles a jaunty tune. You sigh, ‘I’m not happy that you named me because of a song, Al. The joke isn’t that funny and the song wasn’t that good.”You grab your purse.
“You are just upset because it was a song written before you were born.” He says as he pulls his headphones back on and goes back to his book.
A few weeks ago, you asked him his name. He responded by singing “You can call me Al.” and after that he started referring to you as “Betty”.
You thought it was just a bad joke from an old Paul Simon song, and then you remembered that you now have a new identity to go with your new life.
It doesn’t matter what you call yourself, your new IDs all say “Betty Jones”. He seemed pleased with himself when he had his legal people create your new papers. “Betty Jones” age 30, etc. You had asked him why age 30, that wasn’t your real age or birth date. He explained that you could pass for 30 and will end up changing your birth dates many times.
You get in the car and drive to a sports bar on the other end of town.
Thinking about the first time you traveled with your new ID, you frown. You flew home just before the holidays to see your parents.
You were glad you had Al nearby at the time. It went so poorly that you both had to use your telepathy to modify your parents’ memories.
Shaking your head, you think about it. The joy on your mom’s face when she saw you. Your dad yelling how it was a miracle and you needed to tell all of the relatives. When you explained that you were now a vampire, your dad wanted you to go to a doctor. Al explained that we had doctors who knew all about us, but your parents started to freak out and ask questions about him.
As you stop at the traffic light, you remember the feeling of inserting the thoughts of your death into your mom’s mind. You let Al insert the thought into your father’s mind that he received the phone call from the hospital telling them that you died. You clearly created the image of your mother in the kitchen and her seeing your father cry as he heard the news.
Green light, and you continue on to the club.
Modifying their memories had been Al’s back up plan. Which you discussed before you got there. You had hoped that you wouldn’t need to use it. But you are glad that you got to see them and say farewell. You wipe the wetness from your eyes, as you pull into the parking lot. You check your watch. It’s after 9. You wanted to make sure that the game had already started and the people in the bar would be focused on it.
“I am just a plain ordinary woman. I am here for a beer, and to enjoy the game.” Is the thought you put into the front of your mind, as you walk into the bar.
With a quick look around, you see the tables are mostly full and there are a few empty seats at the bar. You pick one away from the door, but not too near anyone else.
“What type of beer do you want?” the bartender asks.
You realize that you must have thought the “beer” part too loudly.
“I will have a light, on tap.” You say. It’s not so much that you really want a beer right now, but it will blend in well with what everyone else is drinking. If you picked something like a Long Island Ice Tea or a Sex on the Beach, the bartender might remember you, and you want to just be anonymous.
He brings it to you and you start a tab. You aren’t sure how long it will take to get your snack, so you might as well get comfortable. You scan the room, trying to look like you are just checking the game on the other TV’s as you do.
Most of the tables are groups of friends having fun.
There are a few couples who seem to be as focused on themselves as the game or their food. Then there are the guys at the bar.
Most look to be locals. That “I got off of work and wanted a beer” look about them. Al warned you to try not to pick that type if you want to use the bar as a repeat hunting ground.
“Hey, Beautiful, is that seat taken?” says a guy who sits down before you can answer and whose scent of body spray catches your attention before his voice. You are about to tell him ‘Yes’ but change your mind.
“Have a seat,” you say. This guy was obviously hunting and that makes him a fair target. “So which team do want to win?” you ask as you sip your beer.
He looks up at the screen “Of course I want the home team. Don’t you?” he says with a wink and a wide fake smile.
“Of course.” You say and finish your beer.
“Can I get you another?” he asks. You nod. “Hey, barkeep, another round?” he calls in a loud voice.
He rests his hand on your knee.
“Oh yeah, he is definitely going to be my snack tonight.” You quickly think.
As your beer arrives you think to him “You want to follow this up with a ‘shooter’ to show off to me.” You take a quick sip of yours as you see him take a deep drink of his.
He removes his hand from your thigh wipes his mouth with the back of it.
“Would you like something stronger?” he asks You give him a broad smile.
“Of course. Let me order.” You motion for the bartender. You have him lean close.
You do as Al taught you, mouthing your request, but thinking it directly to the bartender. He nods at you, gets a couple of Old-Fashioned glasses, and fills each with whiskey. You pick up a glass and hand it to him, then pick up yours.
“Here is to a fun and exciting evening.” You say as you clink your glass against his. He smiles broadly and then drinks it down. He then looks at you and realizes that you only sipped yours.
You give him an exaggerated frown. “You didn’t even taste it did you? Has no one ever taught you how to drink good whiskey?” you say in a mock scolding voice. “I paid for the first one, you have to pay for your refill.” You say as you wave the bartender back.
You tell him to refill his and put it on his tab. The bartender nods and gives you a genuine smile. You raise your glass in a quick salute. “Now. I want you to sip this. Taste the flavors of it. Feel it on your tongue.”
“Anything for you Beautiful.” He says. You open your mind and slowly read his thoughts. “I am going to take her out back and fuck the shit out of this slut.”
You take your glass and slowly sip, licking your lips suggestively afterwards.
“Did you taste the smokey richness of it?” you ask knowing that he is so focused on sex he really didn’t taste anything. The alcohol is starting to affect him too. You can feel that his thoughts are flowing more easily about you and sex.
“Yeah, I can. It is got a smokey tang to it.” He lies to you.
You adjust your dress so that your bare leg is visible and accessible, reach for his hand and place it on your thigh. Then you slowly take another sip and look deeply into his eyes.
“Finish your drink and follow me outside.” You whisper in his ear, but you think it clearly to make sure he heard.
You tell the bartender, “We will be right back.” You grab your purse but leave your coat.
Your “snack” downs his drink, “Are we coming back?” he asks.
“That all depends on you.” You say in a suggestive tone.
“Let me close my tab first.” he says.
You head for the door and he quickly follows you outside. You can feel him looking at your ass as you walk. You pull him to the side of the building, into a deep shadow.
“I knew you were the kind of slut I like. Horny and ready to fuck.” He says as he unzips his fly and takes out his dick. You grab him by the shoulders and press his back against the wall. You take his hardening dick and stroke it.
“Tell me what you want.” You whisper into his ear. You insert your mind into his and partially control him.
He honestly responds “I want to fuck your ass like a dirty whore. Like I want to do to all women.”
You smile. He is definitely the kind of person who you want to feed on. He was searching for victims and now he is yours.
He moves a hand between your legs and rubs your crotch as his other hand gropes your breast. You grip his cock firmly and kiss his neck. You can feel his pulse increasing.
“Open your shirt.” You command as you stroke his cock faster.
“Suck my cock.” He says.
“I will, but open your shirt first.” You squeeze his dick harder. He unbuttons his shirt. You smell his body spray, “He must bathe in it.” You think.
“The ladies love it.” He responds. You refocus your thoughts. “You are such a ‘Ladies man’. Women love to fuck you.”
You slowly lick down his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “Just fuck me slut” he thinks.
You stroke him faster. You put the image of you sucking him as you lick around his nipple. Between your hand and his thoughts of your mouth, his is good and hard.
His pulse is going faster. You find the vein in his chest and your fangs cut his flesh.
As you slowly suck his warm blood, you put the image in his mind of you bent over as he fucks you from behind. It flows into your mouth as you drink deeper. He thinks he is fucking you hard. You see him thinking about putting his thumb into your ass as his dick is deep in your pussy.
You suck from the vein deeper and enjoy his fantasy. Your own heart is beating faster. The images are so clear in both of your minds, you can feel his hard cock going in and out of your wet pussy. You feel his thumb going in and out of your ass.
Drinking deeper from him still, he moans. His cock pulses and cums in your hand. In his mind he is filling your ass. You can feel his hard dick pulsing in your ass as your pussy pulses too.
You stop drinking from his vein as you feel a wave of pleasure wash through both of you. You lick your lips. His salty tangy flavor was what you needed.
His cum is all over your hand, which you wipe on his chest before you button him up.
He is staring blankly at you, lost in his thoughts of ecstasy.
You are tempted to plant a different thought into his mind, to see if you can lessen his predatory behavior, but you decide to not change him, because you might feed on him again. Especially if he doesn’t change his ways.
You do think one thing clearly “That was good, but next time don’t wear so much body spray. A shower fresh smell is more effective.”
He blankly mumbles “Not so much body spray.”
You kiss him deeply to focus him. “Shall we have another drink?” you ask as you make a minor adjustment to your dress.
He shakes his head for a second as if trying to clear it.
“I think I am done for the night, Beautiful. I hope I was everything you needed.” He says as he fishes his keys from his pocket and unsteadily walks to his car.
You smile “Yes that was exactly what I needed.”
Going back in, you tell the bartender that you will have another drink, but the other guy was feeling tired and left. He nods.
You finish your sipping your whiskey. You have a beer after that, as you watch the end of the game.
The home team won. “It was a good night for everyone.” You think as you close out your tab and drive home, relaxed and satisfied.
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