“But-but — That’s –” Barb stepped back, her eyes wide as she stared at the nerd who had suddenly gained a lot of cool points. “Really?”
“Do you drink blood?”
“Yes,” he answered, exasperated.
Now Barb had stars in her eyes as she stared at the man lying across her dressing room couch. “Do you sparkle in the sun?”
“Spark — what?”
“Oh, no you didn’t!”
Barb’s eyes widened as Virgil forced himself to his feet, his eyes wide in horror as she stared in sheer amazement.
“No, you didn’t just compare me to a poorly written emo jackass who needs to be written up for domestic violence!”
“But what, Barbra!”
“I thought –”
“That what? Being a vampire would automatically make me cooler or something?”
“Well, what! What you see is what you get!”
“You’re the same way you were when you were changed. I have asthma; I wear glasses because I’m nearsighted as hell. I stutter when I talk to women, and yes, I am a nerd! My amazing magic ability is that I don’t die. And I don’t sparkle in the sunlight. I combust.”
“Now you sound disappointed. What? You think the whole universe is going to change for me just because I’m undead?”
“Well, most vampires, I assumed, were rich and…”
“Have you any idea how expensive it is to get someone to create a fake identity? How dangerous? Let me get something straight, Barbra. I am poor. I work very hard to make ends meet, and my options are rather limited — you know, that pesky thing about having to work nights to avoid a major case of sun poisoning? And let me tell you something. It gets expensive having to reinvent yourself all the time. De Vampre? My last coordinator’s idea of a joke.”
“But I thought –”
“What? Because I am paranormal, I suddenly become some bright and beautiful thing? No, Barb. What you see is what you get.”
“So… no riches squirreled away?”
“In this economy?” He rolled his eyes. “Please, woman.”
“But you’ve seen so much of history…”
“And most of it sucks. I was poor during the industrial revolution. Trust me, when you’re one of the faceless drones trying to work for a tuppence just to get some rotten, moldy bread… and don’t even get me started on the rats.”
“That doesn’t sound too glamorous.”
“Glamorous?” He sounded incredulous now. “There is nothing glamorous about history.” He sighed. “I ran from the Nazis, I worried about God burning my immortal soul. I lived through world wars and conflicts. I saw people die in the streets when a simple meal and some clean water could have saved them, and I watched the rich and the unconcerned walk over them like they were so much garbage. So yeah, I’ve seen a lot, Barbra. And most of it was not pretty or glamorous. Most of it was harsh and dangerous and disgusting. So please don’t compare me to a teenaged-looking pedophile with delusions of grandeur and a god complex. What I am is much more complicated and real.”
“So… no strength of a thousand men?”
“How about the strength of one man who works out a lot? Well, maybe three men, but I’m not one to brag.”
“You work out?”
“Hey, I was a fat kid when I was turned. Thank goodness we can work out and alter our appearance. I lived near Baden-Baden… lots of wonderful bakeries.” He sighed in what had to be fond remembrance. “My mother was a baker.”
“And the perfect complexion…”
“Thank God for Proactiv Solutions.”
“And… can you turn into a bat?”
“Well.” He threw his hands in the air. “There you go.”
“No wolves, either?”
“Only if I have a lot of faux fur and a hell of a lot of makeup.”
“I am so disillusioned.”
“Tell me about it.” He chuckled.
“My main talent is that I won’t die easily. How about that? I may not be able to sparkle or fly you through the night skies, but I can competently speak fifteen languages, I can cook very well, I have hundreds of years of experience in pleasing my sexual partners, and I can take a bullet for you and then walk it off. Sound good?”
“Well –” She grinned back. “– it’s not sparkle in the sunlight and toss cars around with your bare hands good, but it sounds pretty damn real to me.”
“So, can I have a real date now?” he implored, clasping both hands under his chin, tossing his hair out of his face, and giving her the best wolf-puppy eyes he could manufacture. “I already took a knife wound for burgeoning love.”
She tried to hold in her smile, she really did, but at his antics it broke free, and she found herself giggling like a teenager. “Okay. A real date with food and wine and… You can eat, can’t you?”
“Yes.” He reached out and took her hands in his. “Blood just doesn’t have enough proteins to sustain us. I eat small meals and don’t even get me started on the bathroom process. It ain’t pretty.”
She laughed. “Need more fiber?”
“Need you to kiss it and make it better,” he corrected, bending over the few inches that put his face at perfect kissing position.
“Well, you are my hero and all.” Her heart rate increased as he moved his pastry-scented self closer to her.
This close, she could see the stubble on his face and see that his skin tone had nothing to do with a tan from the sun and…
She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his face.
“Oh.” She ran her hands over the broad planes of his shoulders, pressing the muscles and noting to herself that he felt warm and hard, like living marble. “It’s a start.”
"Oh, God, yes." Virgil closed his eyes and gripped his dick harder. "Mmm." His strokes were tight and fast, sending tingles and bursts of fire spiraling through his veins. The wet glide of skin against skin filled the small bedroom with sounds that complemented the moans pouring through his throat. The combined sounds drove his senses higher as sweat beaded, then dripped down his body. One hand ran across his hairless chest, teasing a swollen nipple and making the muscles of his stomach tighten as sensation threatened to overwhelm him. "Yes," he purred as he imagined her, his Barbra, bent over him, her eyes sparkling as she presented her ass to be fondled, her pussy to be filled. God, he loved a big ass on a woman. The new saying was "more cushion for the pushing," and Virgil found it hard to disagree with that notion. God, Barb's ass would be perfect, the cheeks wobbling as she thrust back against him, eager to have him slide his hard cock deep into her creamy center. He stroked faster as he imaged holding her sweet pink pussy open and taking a long slick taste. She would taste like musk and woman, he decided. She would smell like the lemon and vanilla perfume she used and the hair that covered her private little mouth would be trimmed neat and soft as cotton. He paused to slide his foreskin over the plum-colored head of his dick, looking down to see the knob disappear under the cowl of skin and reappear as he tightened his fist again. The whole head was glistening, like it would be as his Barb pulled it from her mouth. Yes, his dream Barb was now on her knees, looking up at him, her eyes wide and innocent as she delicately sucked his dick deep into her mouth. She would smile, her lips stretched by the thickness of his cock, and she would pull it out with a small pop before allowing her tongue to run under his foreskin, teasing his slit before sucking the whole thing deep into her mouth again. She would hum and choke a little as she tried to take him all down her throat. The sensation would send fire though his balls, over his back, and up his spine. Yeah, she would choke on it, and spit would run down her chin. She would start to get deliciously messed up as she slobbered over his dick, growing more desperate as her own desires began to rise. Her full, round breasts would bob as her gyrations become frenzied. She would rub them against his legs as she mewled helplessly up at him. "Yes, Barb," he whispered, imaging her spreading her thighs and presenting her swollen pussy for him to care for. And he would care for it well. He would spread her lower lips as far as he could get them, and he would slam his dick deep inside her silky heat. He tightened his grip on his cock and stroked faster, beating his meat hard, grunts leaving his throat as he bottomed out completely. His free hand left off teasing his nipples and dropped low to tug at his balls. God, that felt good! And his Barb, yeah, his Barb would be screaming, throwing her hips up, trying to get more of him deep inside as he took her balls-deep. Her nails would score the skin of his back as he pounded her. Her tits would bounce with every thrust, temping him to bend down and take a large, rosy nipple into his mouth, to suck, to nibble, to lave with his tongue. God, she felt so good! His hand moved faster and faster, and soon his hips were thrusting harder, his ass clenching, his thighs burning as he felt his release beckoning him. But he needed more. Faster he pounded himself, picturing Barb's startled face, her mouth dropping open in surprise as just a little fear entered her eyes. Yeah, that fear was a tasty delight to be realized. She would fear him but her lust would override that fear. She would start to scream, to beg, to call out his name. Virgil, Virgil, Virgil... "Barb!" he shouted as his cock pulsed then exploded, sending spurts of his rich, creamy seed flying over his stomach. "Yes, Barb," he moaned, working his rapidly deflating cock, still running out his orgasm, extending his release until he was nearly too sensitive to touch. "Mmm, Barb," he whispered as his eyes slid shut. He knew he should get up and at least attempt to clean himself up, but his muscles were a weak, trembling mess. If the ancient hunters thought to attack him now, there would be no escape for him. But he hadn't had an issue with those people in generations. Maybe the last of them had died out. He didn't know for sure, but they had not bothered him for what seemed like eons, leaving him time to do the things he always wanted, like pay court to his beautiful Barb. He brushed sweaty strands of hair from his forehead and relaxed into his pillows. He would rest a bit and then he would shower. He would be seeing his Barb soon, and he wanted to make a grand impression. Life was going to be pretty easy from here on out, Virgil thought. Pretty easy indeed.