- My cell is small, Robin, seven paces from end to end, three from side to side, and sometimes
I think it is too small for sanity, too narrow for any sort of clear understanding..
- You said you wanted kicks. You were shy at first, as I expected, trembling..
- I began to move in a slow rhythm, knowing you were almost ready for me, for both my hungers,
slipping more deeply into you, feeling the rush of your blood now, the rhythm of your heart,
moving in and out of your lungs with your ragged breaths, touching the edges of your mind, spinning
round your memories, ready at last for the final plunge..
But I held myself. I stayed there, lingering at the boundary of your consciousness, mind jangling,
catching at one with your thoughts, startled to see this wasn't your first time, that the gentle
fumbling was an act only for my pleasure. I hesitated then, surprised.
And before I could begin stealing time from you, your body surged violently under mine, your
mind flaring out like a lick of fire, you turning and twisting wildly beneath, a shock of energy
 desperate
for pleasure, every nerve vibrating like a plucked string, shivering with a desire so strong
I fell into your rush, your cadence, humming with your faster pace, my other need forgotten,
your eyes open and fixed on mine, your small heels beating my back with the rhythm of my strokes,
your lips drawn to show the two white tips of teeth, back arched above the sheets, shuddering
with the rush, cause you knew, you knew somehow I was experiencing it too, searing across my
arms, my chest, a shuddering warmth in my loins, pouring out in staggered waves of you.
I came, I remember thinking in the shattered silence.
Dear God, I came.
And then I collapsed on top of you.
Oh, you said after a polite interval, you're heavy, pushing at my shoulder till you levered me
over, spooning yourself onto my side. Then you laughed, face flushed, sweat-slicked breasts against
my arm.
Well, you said, That didn't take long.
What? I said, numbed, uncertain, my body trembling restlessly at this old sensation, confused,
one hunger sated, the other still clamoring in anger and frustration, wanting your moments, your
breath, your time. How long? I wondered. How long since I last came.
You were done, weren't you? you said, sliding your fingers lightly over the damp of my shrinking
dick.
I said nothing.
You smiled sweetly, sat up, and gave my cock a peck. Don't worry, you whispered to it, pretending
like you were keeping what you told it from me: There's always later..
- Janine was propped on the floor next to the mattress, hands arranged neatly in her lap, half
my stash tucked between her legs, needle hanging from the bruised flesh of her arm, a trickle
of blood dripping from her earlobe onto the crumpled baggie.
Police, a voice shouted.....
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(c) R Boyczuk. All Rights Reserved, shown with permission from Cecilia Tan, Editor of Erotica
Vampirica
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