Where's Trixi?

Sometimes you've got to dance and sometimes you've gotta read vampire stories. And sometimes you just want a vampire to bite you so much you roll around on your bed moaning and chewing on the inside of your mouth, licking the blood and thinking of all the things you could do if everything clicked into place.

So you get dressed and you go out and you walk with that certain flair because everyone wants you. You go to a club and you dance and you don't lack for dance partners or for drinks. You don't drink the drinks because after all, you don't drink wine.

You settle for an older guy who just can't believe his luck. He's so happy you chose him you think he's going to have a heart attack right there in the parking lot. He thinks your shiver is from the cold so he gives you his coat. His scent lingers in the cloth making your knees weak. He thinks it's charming how much you long for him and he leans down and kisses you before he closes the door to the car.

He gets in and you are all over him, kissing, nipping, biting, smelling, wanting to get inside of him, to grab all his warmth and life. You're overcome by wave after wave of feeling. You can hardly breathe. Your moans are so loud you don't hear that God damn officious little prick Officer Benny knocking on the glass of the car window with his nightstick.

You ignore him all the way home, slam the door in his face and take a nice hot bath with a beautiful dark red glass of wine.