Blood Lust Stories

I been sittin’ in the dark here in the Soif de Sang, drinkin’ them drinks made so famous on Bourbon Street, when all a sudden…she walks in. The vixen. The goddess. The woman of my dreams. She got long, dark hair, blood red lips, and a sway to her hips that’d drive a man crazy. An’ I must’a gone half crazy when I seen her ‘cause next thing I know, I’m motioning to the seat next to me.

She gives me a kinda smirk I ain’t never seen on a woman before, and crosses the room, almost gliding. I figure she musta’ been like one of them ballet chicks or somethin’. She slides into the seat and crosses one leg over the other, showin’ be a bit of thigh that makes me wanna rip her clothes off right there. But I just signal for the bartender to give her what she wants, an’ almost immediately she says she’ll have a Blood n’ Tonic. I chuckle an’ look over at her, but her face is stone serious, so I wipe the big dumb grin off my face an’ tip my shot down my throat, savorin’ the burnin’ sensation.

“What’s a pretty gal like you doin’ in a slum like this at this time o’ night?” I slur, turning in my seat to face her.

She grins that odd grin again and part her beautiful lips to speak. Her voice is whispy and fluid, like smoke. Like steam. Like I dunno what.

“For me, this is daytime,” she says. The bartender puts the drink in front o’ her and she bring it up to her lips. I watch, all entranced like, and she eyes me over the rim o’ the glass. I don’t care that she knows I’m a creep. She’s fucking entrancing.

“You work at night or somethin’?” I ask.

“You could say that,” she says, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs.

Then I get a sudden realization. “Oh… Are you like a… “ ‘night lady’, or somethin’?”

She laughs a languid and contagious laugh, kinda like a baby. I know that sounds like a weird analogy, but it’s true. Baby laughs are contagious.

“ ‘Night lady?’ ” she says. “I suppose you could say that too, though not in the way you mean, I’m sure.” She opens her purse and takes out a pack o’ cigarettes and a lighter. Djarum Black. She smokes Djarum Black.

“Why wouldja do that to your body?” I ask, incredulous. “You’re too pretty to get cancer.”

“Maybe I deserve cancer,” she drawls with her sensual voice. “I’ve done worse things in my life.” She places a single black cigarette between her beautiful lips and it feels like I go a little bit more insane. She don’t even ask if I mind ‘fore she lights up. I find it incredibly sexy somehow.

“I guess you ain’t the only one who done bad things,” I chuckle, and signal for another shot.

The room gets to smellin’ like spices, and I greedily take in the aroma. She’s like a goddamn drug and I decide I have to have her.



“So what do you really do for a livin’?” I ask her, and she laughs that sexy laugh o’ hers.

“This is the third time tonight you’ve asked that,” she says, sipping her fifth Blood n’ Tonic. “And I’m still no closer to answering you.”

“Aw, c’mon,” I coax, completely drunk outta my mind. “Ya just gotta tell me! I’m dying with anticipation.”

“You are, huh?” she says, lookin’ at me with eyes that could hypnotize an rabid cobra, and I nearly salivate.

“Really I am,” I mumble, and can’t help but laugh.

“We’re all just a little bit dead inside,” she says, flipping her long dark hair over her silky shoulder. “Some more than others.”

“That’s a sunny outlook ya got there,” I chuckle.

“Well, I just happen to love the truth,” she says, lighting up another clove.

“I love the truth too,” I say, and lean in real close to her. “See, the truth is I think you’re the sexiest woman alive.”

She smiles with her crimson lips and leans in close to me so I can feel her breath in my ear. It sends shivers down my spine, which never usually happens to me.

“I think you’re not so bad, yourself,” she says, and my pulse goes wild when she licks my earlobe.

“Gimme the bill,” I somehow manage to slur to the bartender. My heart’s beating so fast I can hardly hear anything else.

“I’ll take care of it,” she says, opening her purse.

“Nah, lemme take it,” I say, making for my wallet.

She pulls out a huge wad o’ cash from her purse and that shuts me up real good.



We sit in my car on Dead Man’s Curve, overlooking the lights o’ the entire city. She breathes out smoke from her cigarette and I can’t help watching her purse her beautiful lips as she exhales.

“Goddamn, ain’t you one sexy woman,” I say, puttin’ my hand on her thigh.”

“You’ve got no idea,” she says, sliding the hem o’ her short black dress up a little, exposin’ more o’ her leg. “There’s a lot more to this woman than you know.”

Before I know it, we get to makin’ out pretty heavy. I taste the spices on her luscious lips, and the tobacco on her tongue. Everything about her drives me wild: the subtle scent o’ her perfume, the smoothness o’ her ivory skin, the silkiness o’ her long, long hair as I put my hand on the back o’ her head as our kissin’ deepens.

When we separate, I whisper, “Just what do you do for a livin’?”

“I can’t tell you,” she says, takin’ my hand and guiding it between her thighs. “But you can guess, if you want to.”

I feel the moisture between her legs and the laciness of her panties. I begin kissin’ her, on her lips, her cheek, her neck, where I linger, suckin’ the sensitive flesh.

“You’re a lady of the night, ain’t you?” I whispered, and she laughed.

“No,” she said, and let out a soft moan and my hand slipped underneath her panties. “I’m a part-time accountant.”

Just then, I sink my fangs into her neck. Her screams fill the car, a deliciously fearful sound that makes me all the more hungry. She tries to pull away from me, tries her damnedest to hit me…anything just to get away from the pain of my bite. I pin both o’ her arms so that she can’t unbuckle herself. I drink her blood, the most delicious I ever tasted. Her screams get louder, so I know I need to hurry ‘fore someone comes and ruins this. I want to take my time with her, ‘cause she’s the most beautiful and satisfying drink so far but I finish in a hurry. Finally after a long struggle, her cries die down and she grows limp in my arms.

Her eyes, that could hypnotize snakes, roll up into her head. Her perfect lips remain slightly parted in a silent scream. Her ivory skin is pale, almost blue, and devoid o’ warmth. I plant a kiss on her lips ‘fore I unbuckle her seatbelt and push her outta the car.

“You were the best I ever had,” I say, then close the door and drive.



I sit there in the dark o’ Soif de Sang, drinkin’ the usual. Finally, the question in my head that’s been botherin’ me comes out.

“ ‘Ey… What the hell is a Blood ‘n Tonic, anyhow?”

The barkeeper looks at me for a second and then starts wiping down the counter. “Cranberry juice and tonic.”
“Sounds disgustin,’” I say.

I tip back the shot and savor the burnin’ in my throat.