Chapter 3

"Here you are, Bobby. I hope you like it."

"Oh!" I'd shaved and brushed my teeth, and finished my usual morning routine two hours early, while Shelly had rattled some pots and pans, as she liked to say.

My kitchen had never smelled so good and I told her as much, winning a kiss on the cheek. She'd set a breakfast table for us, complete with a large omelet, toasted English muffins, a plate of fresh fruit, orange juice, and coffee. I did feel hungry after a long night of sex and I guess Shelly felt the same. Except she couldn't eat real food without getting sick or something. She didn't even drink water, just blood and cum.

"It looks great," I told her truthfully, and she returned my smile almost shyly, it seemed to me.

I couldn't believe she'd found enough ingredients in my refrigerator for an omelet, but I didn't complain as she fed me with NPR's 'All Things Considered' playing on the radio. I always enjoyed that program and I wasn't sure I believed her when Shelly said she liked it as well. But she looked gorgeous just sitting at the table, wearing one of my dress shirts and a pair of my boxers that fit her loosely at best. Shelly was sexy, smiling and giggling while we talked and ate. She liked the same things I did, mostly, which seemed unlikely, but I didn't think she was lying. Music, books, movies, even politics and religion, we shared our opinions and more often than not found ourselves in happy agreement.

She could have been playing with me, I suppose, but I was definitely falling in love.

"I like cooking," Shelly confessed after I'd finished eating. "I like cleaning the house, doing laundry, and waiting at the door with a glass of wine when my husband comes home from work."

"Really?" I grinned, not believing her at all.

"Seriously," she said. "I still remember dreaming about it as a little girl. It's all I ever wanted to do."

"Be a housewife?" I asked around my coffee. "You're teasing me, right?"

"No!" Shelly pouted and my cock grew hard. "I mean it, Bobby. In the bedroom, yeah, I like being sort of ... dominant."

"Heh!" I shook my head and she ignored it.

"But everywhere else?" Shelly gave me her big gray eyes. "I want to be the woman, and not a liberated one either."

"Barefoot and pregnant?" I teased. "That's a little hard to imagine."

"We'll, I wouldn't mind if we had children someday," she said, and that made me blink.

"We?"

"Of course!" she said with a giggle. "What do you think I'm talking about?"

"I'm not sure," I replied slowly. Adoption, I assumed, but that implied we were some sort of couple. Right?

"I love you, Bobby." Shelly reached for my hand, squeezing my fingers. "From the moment I first saw you, I told myself, there's the man I'm going to marry."

"M-Marry?" I coughed, spitting a bit of coffee down my chin.

"Don't you believe in love at first sight?" she asked, dabbing at my face with a napkin.

"Yeah, maybe ... I don't know ... Um..."

"I do," she told me, sounding remarkably like my mother. "I can take care of you, Bobby. You need a woman around here and I know you love me."

"We just met," I protested. "I mean, you're not even a real girl."

Shelly gave me a hurt look.

"No offense," I added quickly. "You're beautiful, don't get me wrong, but..."

"You're worried about what people will think if you marry a vampire."

"Uh ... Kinda," I agreed, wondering if marrying a vampire was even legal. "How am I supposed to tell my mom about you?"

"We can tell her tonight," Shelly decided. "When we see her for dinner, we can tell her everything."

"Everything?" I blanched at the thought. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"You can tell her we're in love and it doesn't matter if I'm a vampire or not."

"That might give her a heart attack," I sighed, although my mother wasn't that old. "She wants grandchildren."

"Tell her we plan to adopt," was Shelly's answer. "There are a lot of babies in the world, Bobby."

"Yeah, but..."

"Look at Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie," she said. "They've adopted half of Africa or something."

"Angelina Jolie?" I was suddenly reminded of Shelly's lovely feet.

"Nobody else has to know about me," she continued. "It'll be our little secret."

"It's not so little," I sighed, mostly to myself.

"Not with me around!" Shelly agreed, giggling like a nymph as she reached for my cock.

Jesus! I loved her laugh. And the way she tossed her black hair from one shoulder to the other, carelessly, effortlessly, as if she'd been a real live girl her whole life. Well, she had been a real girl once, I reminded myself. We hadn't talked about her family at all. I didn't even know her real name, since it seemed fairly obvious that it wouldn't say Shelly on her birth certificate. She didn't even have one of those, or if she did, it had to be fake. Like pretending to have a daughter every fifty years so she could leave her winery to herself when she didn't die?

"Nope!" Shelly decided. "We have to tell her, Bobby. I don't want to live a lie and I'm not going to lose you."

"Well..." I sighed, but that was all.

Like every discussion we'd ever had, argument being too strong a word, I lost that one as well. Shelly owned me and I couldn't figure out why.

Maybe it had something to do with the way she put her legs over my shoulders, pulling me into her ready sex while we kissed. Dominant or not, Shelly was willing to let me pin her down, helpless as a butterfly with my cock finding the very bottom of her pussy. I could feel it, the tip of my penis bruising her tender flesh while I let her nurse on my freshly pierced tongue. Being bitten had quickly become an essential part of our lovemaking and I accepted that. What other choice did I have? We were joined completely in that way, far more closely than other, normal people could ever be.

And we were making love. I'd tried to deny my feelings before, but no longer. I leaned into her, pushing her long legs towards the headboard and rolling Shelly's ass off the mattress. I took long, deep strokes and enjoyed the way my sperm-filled balls slapped her butt. After viewing far too much porn in college, we were having sex the way I'd always imagined it. Porn star sex, slamming my cock into her horny hole with relentless passion. Grunting and groaning. Her firm breasts bounced and jiggled, her fingers clawed at the sheets, and I liked to imagine my cock kissing the pillow of her cervix. The idea of knocking Shelly up, impossible though it was, filled my imagination with a perverse joy and I think she appreciated that.

"Oh! Fuck me! Bobby!" she gasped, tilting her head upward as she climaxed around my throbbing erection.

Shelly seemed to offer me her pale throat, much as I'd done for her previously. I bent my mouth to her skin, kissing her neck and teasing her with my teeth. I couldn't bite her, of course, but in that sublime moment I felt a strange desire to do just that. I loved her so much. I kissed her jaw and cheek, pressed my lips upon hers as I pumped her tight, quivering sex like a machine. I was going to cum as well, and already I could feel her vaginal muscles tugging at my balls, urging me to feed her famished womb.

The sun had risen behind the heavily draped windows and Shelly closed her eyes, smiling with my cock still pulsing gently inside her. She slept silent and breathless beneath me, helpless as a newborn, and my only thought was to cradle her in my arms. I kept her safe and warm, and eventually I dreamt of beautiful, wondrous, and terrible things. Perhaps they were her dreams as well. I liked to think so.

"What are you doing?"

"Huh?" I glanced at Shelly from the driver's seat of my BMW, a beautiful M5 that seemed to impress the girl quite a bit. I'd kind of hoped it would. I loved that car and hardly ever got to drive it.

"That's the third florist we've passed," she said, glancing over her shoulder.

"You want me to buy you flowers?"

"Not for me!" Shelly punched me in the arm.

"Ow!"

"For your mother," she said. "What's the matter with you?"

"Uh..." I wasn't exactly sure.

"You can't go to your mom's for dinner without bringing her flowers."

"I can't?"

Shelly gave me an incredulous look. "I am so glad I'm not a man!"

I bought an Autumn Bouquet at the next floral shop we saw.

"You're so sweet," Shelly sighed, holding the flowers in her lap. "I can see why your mother loves you so much."

"You don't have to be sarcastic," I muttered, but I did feel pretty good about bringing my mom flowers. Even if it hadn't been my idea, I mean.

"It's part of my job," she said, smiling. "You've got a real girlfriend now, so get used to it."

"I guess I'll have to," I agreed, and for some reason I felt pretty good about that, too.

"Take the next left," she said. "You'll have to park on the street."

"Is it safe?" I wondered. "It's night time."

"We're in the Village," Shelly reminded me, but that didn't make me feel better.

She did live in a nice neighborhood though, real artsy with expensive shops and galleries lining the street. I wasn't sure how a vampire could afford a Manhattan loft, but I suppose owning a French vineyard didn't hurt. Shelly might have been my girlfriend now, I wasn't sure, but I wasn't feeling comfortable enough to discuss money with her. Being an accountant, a respected CPA with a respected firm, I had a real appreciation for the financial privacy of others.

Shelly, on the other hand...

"You must make a lot of money, huh?"

"A little bit," I admitted slowly. "I'm not a millionaire."

"A hundred thousand a year?" She smiled and I shook my head.

"Not that much."

"Call it eighty then," she decided, "Living alone in that small apartment. Probably rent controlled, too. Right?"

"I got a good deal on it," I said, reluctantly. "You're not going to blackmail me, are you?"

"What?" Shelly laughed. "Yeah! I've got pictures of you sucking my toes, Bobby."

I tried to smile at her obvious teasing, but in truth, the thought had just occurred to me and it wasn't a pleasant one. It would be pretty embarrassing, perhaps even ruinous to my career if her secret ever got out. It worried me enough that Kevin, one of my co-workers, knew about Shelly, but if his girlfriend was really a vampire as well ... I still didn't feel very safe. My conservative clients wanted an accountant who was half-Puritan and half-calculator, cool, dispassionate, and above all, honest. They wouldn't understand my growing infatuation with Shelly at all.

Infatuation? I swallowed hard, knowing it was the right word.

"No, I want to tell you that I'm not a gold digger," she said, stroking my left thigh with her fingernails. "I don't care if you're rich or not, okay? I just want us to be happy together, that's all."

"Well, I'm not rich," I told her. "I'm just ... comfortable."

"Me too!" she agreed, smiling happily. "Oh! This is me. Park over there."

Shelly had a comfortable apartment, spacious and cluttered all at once. It was open for the most part, with only a modest bathroom actually separated by a door. A spiral staircase led to a balcony, a small one overlooking the downstairs, and that's where she kept her bedroom. Her kitchen was little more than a portable electric stove on a coffee table, but a vampire didn't need a real kitchen anyway. Her closets consisted of milk cartons and wire strung between two walls, near the corner where they joined.

She turned on her stereo and pushed some books off an old sofa, giving me an apologetic smile. There were unframed paintings and photographs on the walls. She had a rough Chinese rug on the floor and three small windows overlooking a fire escape and an alley three floors below. Or they would have if they hadn't been covered over with bricks, like sealed up permanently with mortar. Aside from the sofa and the coffee table, she didn't have a whole lot of furniture, just some over-stuffed bookcases. They were old and heavy, scarred with age, and I was sure they hadn't been moved in decades.

"No coffin?" I asked, half teasing her.

"I prefer a futon," she replied. "But if you want to join the six feet under club, I know a good cemetery."

"Uhhh ... No thanks," I said, wondering who was teasing who. She only smiled.

"I'm gonna go upstairs and change," Shelly told me. "Do me a favor and feed Mr. Tibbs, okay?"

"Who?" I looked around, but we seemed to be alone.

"My cat," she said, ascending the staircase with a smile. "He's around here someplace. There should be some Friskies over there someplace."

I found the cat food next to a small refrigerator and a can opener as well. The cat, a gray Siamese with yellow eyes, came running at the sound. He seemed friendly enough anyway, rubbing himself around my legs in a figure eight and purring softly. I'd never owned a cat.

"He likes you," Shelly said from the balcony-bedroom, and I looked up to see her standing naked and smiling down at me.

"I think he's just hungry," I said, drinking in her firm, upturned breasts as she moved around. I fed the cat, giving the task a bare minimum of attention.

Watching Shelly get dressed seemed much more interesting. Captivating, really, as I just stood there looking up at her. She put on a white bra decorated with blue and pink polka dots on the cups, adjusting it with a self-conscious giggle. She knew I was watching. Shelly turned around, giving me her ass for a moment, then turning again so I could watch her pull matching panties up her long legs. I teased her about that, since I'd honestly believed she didn't own even a single pair of panties. Everything about her was pleasing to the eye and I smiled as she turned, smoothing her panties over her butt and posing just for me.

"You should be an underwear model," I decided, and she laughed at that.

"I should be a lot of things," Shelly replied. "Which one?"

She held up two dresses, a baby blue sun dress with white trim, and a black mini-dress that looked like it wouldn't fit a twelve-year-old. I had no doubt that it would stretch, however, and it was tempting to see her in it. We both knew she was teasing me.

"The black one," I said, getting another knee-buckling giggle.

"Right!" She tossed it away, literally throwing it over her shoulder, and dressed in the other one.

I watched her step into the sun dress, wriggling her hips sexily as she pulled the cotton up her legs, past her tummy, and over her shoulders. The buttons were in the front, a dozen of them, which she ignored completely. A white sash fell loose behind her butt as she nearly disappeared from my view. Shelly busied herself for ten long minutes with makeup and brushing her hair, putting on perfume and everything else a girl does to get ready. She looked more than a little attractive as she took the stairs, circling the wrought iron like a runway model.

"Button me up?" she asked, even though they were in the front, as I mentioned.

I didn't mind and Shelly watched my face as I watched my fingers, hiding her beautiful body when all I wanted to do was pull that dress down and kiss every inch of the girl. When she turned around so I could wrap the satin sash around her waist and tie a bow at the small of her back, I'd had enough teasing. I buried my face in her hair and kissed her neck, grabbing her tits and pressing my erection against her ass.

"Do we have time?" she wondered, turning her head to find my mouth with hers. It was a silly question and we both knew the answer as Shelly sank to her knees.

"Ohhh..." I cleared my throat. "Just, um ... Be careful. Okay?"

"I wasn't careful last time?" she asked, smiling up at me as her fingers found my erection. "You have to trust me, that's all."