Did he really leave her?
We followed him, watching him stumble and cough as the cold November rain soaked through his clothes. There are very few advantages to being like me, but a reduced sense of feeling the cold is one of them. Gabriela and I followed the boy at a distance, waiting for him to turn down an empty street.
When the time came, I was hesitant; Gabriela pushed me down the alley he had entered forcefully, and the boy turned as I stepped in a puddle loudly. His soft blue eyes looked up at me in the dim light as I approached. I was appalled at the level of violence and brutality Gabriela employed in her feedings, but as I drew nearer to the boy down the alley, I felt the thirst for blood, previously a dull ache, blossom into a feverish need. A loud crack erupted from his body as my hands gripped his fragile vertebrae. Warm, wet viscera and gristle sprayed my face as I broke his spine in two. For a few moments, I simply enjoyed the sight of the boy's life-force raining out of the wound I had created; I gripped the two pieces of his spinal cord greedily as I felt his throbbing life-force drain out of him out of him onto the street. I buried my face in him, feeding voraciously. The open maw of his wound was sticky and inviting, meeting my eager mouth like the hungry kiss of an enthusiastic lover. The boy didn't cry out as I descended on him. The only sound he made the entire time was a ragged, labored wheezing as he struggled to take air into his crumpled, broken body.
After I was done, I stood over the kill, staring at Gabriela as the cool rain mixed with the blood running down my face. She smiled at me, and lasciviously beckoned me to her.
"Now I can teach you what happens after feeding," she said cryptically as she took my hand in hers. I took one last look down at the twisted form lying in the gutter, the little body I had mangled moments before. I felt no remorse for what I had done; rather, I felt energized, fulfilled. Feeding gives you a moment of blinding, atavistic ecstasy, and leaves you with an almost sexual afterglow.
Feeding and its orgasmic feeling were only a precursor to other, more conventionally erotic pleasures that Gabriela would share with me that night. We returned to the expensive hotel at which we stayed while in Baltimore just as dawn was beginning. We are not as sensitive to sunlight as popular legend would have you believe-we do not explode or shrivel into nothingness upon direct exposure. It is more a strong sensitivity to sunlight that we possess. While it is not fatal, and can be endured if one does not mind the intense nausea and headaches that accompany us into daylight, it is much safer and more comfortable to be the "creatures of the night" that we have been billed as.
Gabriela directed me to arrange for champagne to be sent to our room before she went upstairs. I spoke briefly with the concierge, and soon went up myself with a bottle in a bucket of ice. When I entered the room, Gabriela lay supine on the bed, her head turned toward me. She was almost nude, wearing just a short, sheer nightdress. She smiled mischievously as I took her body in; the diaphanous fabric of her dress clung to her curves, hugging her body closely as her large breasts rose and fell with her breathing.
"Your cheeks are rosy...you look like life itself," she purred at me as she turned towards me onto her side. My eyes were immediately drawn to the neat triangle of dark hair between her legs, and I was taken with desire.
"You look like sex," I replied, breathily.
She stood and approached me; I set the champagne bucket down on the table near the door, putting my arms around her as she kissed me lustily. I began to feel my manhood engorge as I ran my hands down her back, finally finding their way to her thick buttocks.
Gabriela pulled my body to hers as we kissed; I ran one hand over the gentle slope of her stomach, tracing my fingers over her navel on their way to her ample breasts.