OregonWriter14
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 21, 2014
- Posts
- 148
Patrick Lawrence had been watching the woman dance almost non-stop for three hours. It amazed him that a Mortal could still have that kind of energy at almost two in the morning. He knew she'd be a hellion in bed, assuming, of course, that she had anything left by the time he got her out the door.
And he would, of course, get her out the door. No mere mortal could withstand The Charm. It was a combination of mental control and pheromone discharge, and once it was turned on, the target female -- and sometimes even those in the proximity if he wasn't careful -- couldn't wait to rip off their panties and part their thighs.
Of course, nothing came for free, even to a centuries old vampire. The Charm guaranteed him an energetic fuck, which was always nice. He was a vampire, but he was still a man, too. But the meal he would take from his donor would be less sustaining with her pumped up to the heavens on The Charm.
A delicate balance had to be achieved between Patrick's vampire Charm and his less reliable human charm. He was a good looking man, or so he'd often been told, even without turning on The Charm. And his dress and accessories spoke of money, which never hurt when out on the hunt for a woman who was often out of the reach of most men.
But good looks and money didn't always get a man laid, and good looks and money didn't always get a vampire fed.
Patrick stood from his balcony seat and began making his way down toward the woman's table knowing that he would be searching for that balance tonight with the hopes that the energetic beauty's life force would sustain him for the next upcoming weeks.
It was getting progressively more dangerous for a vampire to feed these days. When he'd first been turned, he could venture to a small isolated village and feed off the locals for a month before help from the outside arrived. These days, every one had a camera phone, cops moved quickly by car rather than horse, and other technologies -- from facial recognition software to eavesdropping devices to instant DNA and fingerprinting matching -- made it hard for a vampire to hide, let alone feed.
No, these days, caution was needed. And that meant toning down on The Charm to increase the value of less frequent feedings.
"May I have the next dance," Patrick asked as the woman -- taking an unusual break from the boogie -- looked up from her drink and friends to meet his eyes. He very conspicuously glanced down her long, athletic legs clear to her stilettos, then back up to say with a sly smile, "Unless you need some time for those heels of yours to cool down. Wouldn't want them to erupt in flames or anything."
The fast moving hip hop that had been exploding from dozens of speakers suddenly shifted to a slower beat, something that would allow two dancers to move a bit closer to one another. Anyone else in the club might have thought it had been simply coincidental that the tempo had changed thusly. Only Patrick and the DJ, who he had paid $100 to switch beats at this exact moment knew the truth.
And he would, of course, get her out the door. No mere mortal could withstand The Charm. It was a combination of mental control and pheromone discharge, and once it was turned on, the target female -- and sometimes even those in the proximity if he wasn't careful -- couldn't wait to rip off their panties and part their thighs.
Of course, nothing came for free, even to a centuries old vampire. The Charm guaranteed him an energetic fuck, which was always nice. He was a vampire, but he was still a man, too. But the meal he would take from his donor would be less sustaining with her pumped up to the heavens on The Charm.
A delicate balance had to be achieved between Patrick's vampire Charm and his less reliable human charm. He was a good looking man, or so he'd often been told, even without turning on The Charm. And his dress and accessories spoke of money, which never hurt when out on the hunt for a woman who was often out of the reach of most men.
But good looks and money didn't always get a man laid, and good looks and money didn't always get a vampire fed.
Patrick stood from his balcony seat and began making his way down toward the woman's table knowing that he would be searching for that balance tonight with the hopes that the energetic beauty's life force would sustain him for the next upcoming weeks.
It was getting progressively more dangerous for a vampire to feed these days. When he'd first been turned, he could venture to a small isolated village and feed off the locals for a month before help from the outside arrived. These days, every one had a camera phone, cops moved quickly by car rather than horse, and other technologies -- from facial recognition software to eavesdropping devices to instant DNA and fingerprinting matching -- made it hard for a vampire to hide, let alone feed.
No, these days, caution was needed. And that meant toning down on The Charm to increase the value of less frequent feedings.
"May I have the next dance," Patrick asked as the woman -- taking an unusual break from the boogie -- looked up from her drink and friends to meet his eyes. He very conspicuously glanced down her long, athletic legs clear to her stilettos, then back up to say with a sly smile, "Unless you need some time for those heels of yours to cool down. Wouldn't want them to erupt in flames or anything."
The fast moving hip hop that had been exploding from dozens of speakers suddenly shifted to a slower beat, something that would allow two dancers to move a bit closer to one another. Anyone else in the club might have thought it had been simply coincidental that the tempo had changed thusly. Only Patrick and the DJ, who he had paid $100 to switch beats at this exact moment knew the truth.
