Writer's block (Finished)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please keep in mind that neither I am a native English speaker nor I use English in my daily life, so in case you come across a misspelling, a grammatically incorrect sentence or simply something that does not seem to make sense at all, let me know. :)

And now, on with the story!


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I’d been staring at the blank screen for three fucking hours.

Three fucking hours, and the damn cursor kept making mockery of me, repeatedly appearing, and disappearing, and appearing yet again as if to say, look, I’m the only black stuff you’ll ever get to see in your page.

I realized Marie was in the room when I felt her cold fingers playing with my hair.

“Mmm… You smell especially good tonight,” she hummed into my ear. “I can’t wait to know how you’ll taste.”

“Ooooh, no. No, no, no, nope. There is this deadline straight before me, you see, and I’m dead if I cross it.”

But she didn’t care. Which was no wonder, ‘cause she never did.

Marie looked over my shoulder at the emptiness of the laptop screen. Her right hand stroke my long black locks, rather casually.

Her left hand found the power button and turned off the computer.

I made to protest, but Marie had already sat on my knees, facing me, with a familiar reddish flare of desire burning deep into those green eyes of hers —indeed the deepest green I’ve ever seen in someone’s eyes.

It always gives me the creeps, in spite of myself.

Her thumbs shifted slowly along my cheeks. The nails were long and polished against my skin.

“Relax, Alaitz, honey, you know I won’t hurt you,” she said, almost whispered.

Yeah, so it’s not because of you that I look like a bloody heroin addict. But Marie shut me up with a kiss, never letting me talk.

I love your looks. Almost as much as I love your blood. A coarse laugh, right into my brain.

Our mouths broke for an instant as Marie’s waxen hands slid off my hair and down my back, and then forwards and up again until they reached my breasts. They felt so cold and sensual, her hands, even through the rough linen of my shirt, that my nipples hardened almost immediately.

All right, I resigned myself. So no more writing for today. It won’t make no fuckin’ difference whatsoever.

And that’s my good girl. Marie kissed me deeply again.

Her tongue had found my tongue and was gradually exploring it, or rather fighting it, and then her razorblade fangs pierced its surface ever so slightly. I savored the metallic tang that filled my mouth, and then another sweeter flavor, which I recognized as Marie’s unnatural blood. I greedily swallowed it, then separated my lips from her lips to take care of her orange tank top. Off it went and, in turn, Marie unbuttoned my shirt way too fast. The chair in which we were still sitting quivered menacingly.

Marie raised a wondering eyebrow. Her breasts were bare, small, milky. Her hair, a wild cascade of ginger.

“Let’s get a comfier place,” Marie said.

And with that she got up and carried me to her bedroom.

Every inch of her bedroom was covered with eyes.

Photographs, paintings, even newspaper cuts filled the walls. There were eyes artfully carved all over the wooden surface of her cabinet, and of her night table, which had so many a sculpture of eyes placed on it.

But I only have eyes for you now, my love. Marie smiled, wickedly showing her row of even teeth. A warm summer breeze came through the window as I lay down on the soft covers of the bed. I smiled back, daringly.

I brought her to me. She licked my left breast and sucked at it, making me tremble and shiver in pleasure and lechery. I cupped her ass through her denim shorts and massaged it, and pushed up my hips until I met hers. Even if I still had my shirt on, it hid nothing. The air off the window made goose bumps of the tiny hairs on my chest and stomach.

Marie stopped all of a sudden, and gave me a twisted, contented grin.

“But you should have told me before,” she said, and she trailed her way down to my belly before she proceeded to take off my pants.

“You bitch.” I smirked, and split my legs for her.

I was aware that she had perceived it at last. No, it was more likely that she’d been pretending all the time. Her senses were far too keen for her not noticing, but she also enjoyed too much behaving like a human such as me.

But now as Marie tore off my knickers, so much for them, and found the hidden blood, all pretense of mortality vanished.

And the world of gazing eyes around me vanished too when she began her hungry lapping and her tongue danced over my clit, and entered me, and cleansed me from the inside out. As passion rose high until I wasn’t able to keep it to myself, and I whined while she fed from this impure blood as well as from the purer, untainted blood she drew from my inner thighs from time to time.

Marie let me know of her own pleasure, and no words were involved.

Lust all but overcame me.

Then overcame me.

I cried, I cummed. I relaxed.

And we kissed again and again, my vampire lover Marie and I, and like the lovers we are we loved each other till the brim of dawn, when she fled, and I gave her my blood and my heart and my very soul. Then I came back to my laptop, turned it on and wrote.

You see, it seems I beat my fucking writer’s block after all.