The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Passed moments in a day.

Knees drawn up and splayed outward, I leant forward and buried my face in the water. Counting, I open my eyes once I can no longer hold my breath and sit bolt upright, breathing hard, gasping for air.
One minute, fifty-two seconds.
“Not bad,” I conceded ruefully. But it wasn’t enough, yet.
That was something else to add to my list of things ‘to do:’ practice breathing techniques.
“There’s so much to do…” I muttered, as I pulled the plug.
The bath is a white-enamel, with a black-side, the walls half-tiled, the rest a warm tangerine: Mediterranean sunset it had said on the tin, three years ago.
“What do people have to hide, behind smoked glass windscreens?” I muse.
It’s been said by those who know me that I think too much.
“Well,” I consider, “it’s been said on several occasions by one certain someone.”
I can’t help but smile at the irony.
“There’s a lot to do,” I told myself, as the water swirled noisily down the plughole and stepped out of the bath. I dried myself off, with a large white towel that had been warming on the radiator and looked for my brushes.
One in either hand, I swept my hair back, being careful to keep my part, running through my mental check-list: ‘Shave, bath, clothes, coffee, then out.’
A simple list and I’d already cheated, by having a coffee as I shaved.
Now I wanted another one, so I threw on my robe and padded through to the kitchen, being careful to check the hall mat on the way.
“No mail again,” I say aloud, with dissatisfaction, as I sip on my fresh brew.
“Then again,” I muse, “you have to write letters, to get them in return.”
And of late, I hadn’t felt much like doing anything.
“Not since…” I sighed. My past was easy to recall, but yesterday?
I sigh again, as I unlock the backdoor, looking in my pocket for a smoke.
Finding the particular rollie I’d been looking for, I stepped out into the day, still thinking back to the thoughts of the past. It’s just too easy right now.
I mean, even a blue-sky day like this reminds me of... Elaine.
The last time I met her she had been the mother of the girl, her eldest, who had followed me everywhere, with the eyes of an adoring puppy.
But, this time it was summer and she was wearing light clothing and possessed a heavy Mediterranean tan, which suited the make-up she wore: red lips and heavily made-up dark eyes.
I had sat near the back of the bus on the top deck when the slim brunette stumbled up the stairs and down the upper aisle and toward me.
I'd been on my own as she stumbled a little on her high heels, giggling to herself as she did so.
She was wearing a light tan summer jacket, white blouse and a dark coloured tight-fitting skirt, that hugged her derriere and thighs.
“Hello,” I said to her, smiling brightly.
Her heels were skittering slightly as the bus started up; and grasping a support pole, she swung into the empty place next to me, sitting heavily, giggling girlishly.
“Do ‘scuse me,” and giggled, adding, “we had the office party and I think I may of drunk a little bit too much…”
And she had giggled once more, putting a hand to her mouth to stifle escaping wind, a burp.
“Oops… pardon!?!”
I turned to her at the sound and found I was looking down the brunette’s blouse, my gaze drawn to her deep cleavage. Her mauve lacy chemise fell away a little to her left, allowing the slightly drooping breast and the erect nipple to be fully in view.
I was entranced by what I saw…
With eyes slightly downcast, the older woman turned towards me and caught the direction of my eyes.
“You like what you see?” Elaine Robinson asked me, while I didn’t hear her words at all, only the sound of her soft voice.
She was aware of me looking at her and with inhibitions loosened by the effects of alcohol, she was giggling once more, thrilling with the delight of the attention shown.
“Haven’t seen you go past for awhile,” I said in turn and her voice turned sad a moment as the brunette said, “My dog died.”
As she spoke, I heard little, interested not in what the words said, but rather, what her body said, which showed her interest; as the jacket she wore [arted a little, allowing me to see the left nipple that stood firm and erect: blood engorged and firm.
She was wearing suspenders, I realised; very aware of the suspender clasp pressing into my thigh as the bus turned a corner, as Elaine pressed against me.
“Good way to get to know one another,” I said, smiling broadly.
And, our eyes meet: her brown, mine blue; as I notice her lips part, just a little, lips that look oh-so-moist.
We stare into one another’s desires and I knew she wanted me, as I wanted her, with a physical yearning for the contact of the others flesh.
She shivered and I noticed, wondering if she too was anticipating possible pleasure of the flesh.
“Are you cold?” I asked.
“Oh no,” she replied, blushing.
‘Perhaps with suppressed lust?’ I considered briefly.
We look at one another again, the eye contact steady; and the distance between our faces closed further still.
“I’m married,” she says to me, very softly.
“So?” I reply, staring into her eyes.
And, our lips touched; only touched, at first.
Then the kiss developed, as our lips ground together, as my hands sought to traverse every contour of the brunette’s body.
Brushing material away, I took the nipple between forefinger and thumb, as our eyes connected and her body thrilled with delight at my touch.
Her eyes fluttered, as she sighed at at the contact of my hand on her stocking-clad knee.
“This is my stop,” she said softly against my lips, as we parted.
I followed her backside down the stairs as we both disembarked and strode in silence as I walked her homeward, until she said to me, “Don’t come any further.”
“What’s the matter?” I asked turning to her, curious as to what the problem was.
“I’m worried the neighbours might see me with a young man,” she told me with fluttering lashes.
It was a glorious meeting, on a sunny day.
Then, several days later I increased my pace, noticing her walking before me, a heavy bag full of shopping in each hand.
“It's good to see you again,” I said to her brightly.
I took the bags from her and we walked side by side as I carried her shopping much of the way home for her.
“Why don’t you come in for a cool drink?” she asked, her eyes fixed on me, seemingly devouring me with hungry eyes.
We entered and the back door to the garden closed, stood in the middle of the kitchen very close, looking at one another.
I reached out my right hand and caressed her cheek, sliding my fingers into her hair, as I clasped her head in my hand.
I find her dark brown, almond-shaped eyes feline; and quite entrancing.
deep into one another’s eyes; and both realized the physical yearning that each felt was reciprocated by the other.
I drew her to me and we embraced, kissing deeply, tongues entwined.
We turned and twisted, passion unbound, as we fell against the table, the door and finally the cooker.
Our tongues meshed together and I hoisted her skirt high, to reveal her long, stocking-clad legs and bare thigh.
Gently pushing her against the cooker-top, I withdrew from her arms a moment and sank to my knees, drawing down her black silk panties.
She was trimmed and clean tasting I learnt with an eager tongue, as Elaine ran long manicured painted nails through my hair, saying, “Mia amore, that’s so nice.”
Her eyes closed, as she concentrated on my tongue opening her, licking and pleasing her and I took my hard, cut length out of my trousers slowly with my left hand, my right caressing nylon-clad flesh.
Then we stood, as I lifted the brunette’s legs up and wide, so her backside rested on the cooker-top as I sank into her moist warmth.
As Elaine lay back, eyes closed, I viewed the delight that she demonstrated with her wanton behaviour with relish, realizing that this might not be the one-off that I'd thought it might be.
The brunette opened her eyes, reaching down the index finger of her right hand, toward her glistening pubis, coating the digit with my fluid and watched this older woman, my own Mrs Robinson, savour with obvious pleasure, my ejaculated fluid.
Panting with exhaustion, I helped her stand, sliding my hands over her nylon clad legs and naked thighs, to grasp her buttocks firmly.
“Let me?” She told me; sinking to her knees and licking clean my flaccid manhood of any fluids left.
When she’d drained me, the sated brunette stood, a little unsteady on her black stiletto high heels.
“Was that nice?” Elaine asked me, as she smiled and licked at her lips lasciviously, while I finished dressing, smiling broadly.
“I do hope I can call again?” I asked.
“Yes,” she’d responded, “and if you ring first I’ll try to arrange things for you...”
“Anything special?” I queried, as I open the door to leave.
“Like dressing-up for you. That sort of thing… if there’s anything special you’d like?” she informed me suggestively.
“I’ll phone,” I assured her, then closed the door behind myself as I left.
I smiled a lot, as I walked home – already looking forward to calling again.
And so, one day I had walked past the post-box and toward the telephone box on the green.
I phoned Elaine and said I wanted to ‘call round.’
Then just a short time later, we were naked and sweaty, in each other’s arms.
I recalled being surprised by my lover as I looked into her eyes, supporting myself on my lower arms, my hands holding the sides of her head, as I pistoned back and forth between her splayed long legs, into her lubricated warmth.
“Hurt me…” She begged, with wide lust-filled eyes.
I was reticent at first, then she implored, “Please?”
So placing my thumbs, to either side of her wind-pipe, I pressed inward a little and she sighed, then found release; as her eye-lids flickered and the walls of her sex tightened around me as liquid issued from her, a lot of it, flooding our thighs and the duvet beneath us.
I released the pressure on her throat and she sighed, with pleasure.
Moments later she wrapped her arms and legs round me, smothering me with kisses.
“Thank you,” she said to me.
Those two words burned into my head, as I walked home, on a blue-sky day.
It was a day like that when I’d driven to a rendezvous, constantly checking my watch, every five minutes or so. And, as it happens I was early.
The two wide blue gates were opened and a multitude passed through them in a short space of time. All in black jackets and trousers, they were all ages.
She would be in the group that followed in about twenty minutes.
I had time for a smoke.
Opening the car door, I stood on the driver’s side, back to the car, ankles crossed as I lit my rollie and time passed.
Like the others, she wore a light-blue shirt, under a royal blue jumper, collar out. The skirt was the same colour, but hardly regulation length. A growth spurt had ensured that the skirt heightened her long slim shapely legs, being mid-thigh long.
On her feet were ankle-length white socks and black shoes, with not-so-sensible heels.
Her make-up had been light and suited her fair-complexion, green-blue eyes and the few freckles dotted across from her upper cheeks; and across the bridge of her nose, to the other side.
Although I hadn’t seen Jennie for quite awhile, I needed to now.
After all, who knew what would happen next; and the teen was one of my few links to the past that I wanted to recall.
I smiled at her and from the midst of the group she walked with I got an exuberant wave.
‘Good,’ I thought, ‘she’s still pleased to see me.’
That wave of recognition had meant so much to me.
I had doubted that she would be, as so much time had passed.
Time? The nature of memory is that it’s not linear. Memories flow unbidden back and forth, triggered by triggers, whether they are physical or emotional.
Simply put, life is made up of lots of little moments that we recall unconsciously with a precipitant cause.
Did I say ‘simply?’
For my age I like to look good and that night I’d felt as good as I looked.
Yet, as I’d waited I had wondered what she’d think.
The chain had been unfastened from the door, then bolts at the top and bottom and she had opened the door.
I think she’d liked what she’d seen.
Her smile had said it all, I’d thought.
“Do come in,” the young brunette had encouraged me.
It’d been an old house converted into flats and I’d been pleased to follow her upstairs.
She’d worn a tight-knit red sweater, dark grey skirt, stockings and heels.
The flesh at the top of her self-support hose held my attention, as I’d followed her to her rooms.
She had brought me to her lounge, a comfortable room, all bare floorboards and wall hangings. Real nice.
Walking across to the plate glass window, I’d looked out across the river, on a starlit night.
“Good view,” I’d observed absently.
“It’s what drew me here in the first place,” the brunette had informed me, pride in her voice.
She’d stood next to me, lamplight behind her.
I’d turned slowly, and then held her.
She had felt good in my arms: and, we had kissed.
Her eyes had been closed, her head tilted back.
I’d slid my right hand up the back of her nylon-clad legs, up to her bare flesh.
“You sure?” I’d asked.
“Oh yes…” She had sighed, lips against mine, her hand on my growing erection.
Beverly, that was her name.
She had undressed faster than me, and then led me to her bedroom, as I’d followed her in just my socks.
Once there, I’d removed them quickly and lay in the middle of the wide bed, as she closed the drapes.
She wasn’t too tall, or too short.
And, when Beverly had lain next to me, she had been just the right height.
The curves of her body had moulded against mine well; as I had savoured the smell of her flesh, the skin he slowly traversed, with enquiring hands; and as the night passed into morning we had enjoyed each other’s flesh.
I am tired now, so I think I’ll close down this computer and close my eyes a while.
And …
It’s funny; I can hear voices, like in the distance.
Strange, very strange …
“Doctor?”
“Yes nurse?”
“We’re losing him …”
“I know …”
They’re losing him? Who are they talking about?
“But, the amount of time he was in the water? He’d have been brain-dead anyway …”
The voices continue, but they’re becoming more distant now …
Oh, I’m so tired…