The Hunger, Part Two

This is part two of a story originally posted here on June 16. 2011, involving a near-immortal man who calls himself John Smith, and a young woman he re-names Azelia after he takes her as his life-mate. They are members of the clan of Us, a race of beings somewhat like vampires. They exist by feeding on the sexual fluids of their victims, rather than blood. The do not kill; they seduce their victims into allowing them to feed on the product of their loins. Enjoy.

* * * * *

The insistent ring of the bedside phone woke me. I moved Azelia slightly so I could reach the annoying thing.

“Hello?” I said.

“Good morning, Mr. Smith. This is your ten o’clock wake-up call, as you requested. Would you care for breakfast, sir? We would be happy to bring you a tray,” the cheery female voice said.

“Thank you for calling. I shall make my decision about breakfast in a bit.” I hung up the phone.

“John? What happened last night?” Azelia said, blinking the sleep from her enchanting green eyes.

“What do you mean, my love?” I asked.

“You sat in my station at the bar last night, ordered a Virgin Mary, and,… I don’t know,… swept me off my feet, I guess.”

“I tend to do that. It’s much more civilized to make a woman want to be in my bed. None of Us makes anyone a victim. We entice them to be willing participants. You’ll come to understand that, darling.”

“Who are,… well,… Us?” Azelia asked.

“That’s hard to explain. I am Us. You are Us, now and forever more. It would be good for you to meet other members of the clan soon. Now that I’m here, I’d like to re-establish friendships with a number of Us and introduce them to my new life-mate,” I answered.

“What are these people like?” Azelia asked, rolling on her back, giving me a wondrous display of her sumptuous breasts.

“Not much different from mortals. We have to re-invent ourselves every once in a while, change with our environment. It’s essential when you’ve been around as long as I have. Don’t you think I would have trouble blending in as a lute player at the court of a medieval duke?”

“How old are you, John?”

“I was born on the day Joan of Arc burned,” I answered.

“I didn’t pay attention in history class,” Azelia said. “When was that?”

“The thirtieth of May, 1431.”

“Oh my God, so you’re, let’s see, almost six hundred years old!”

“My dear child, I’ll have you know that it will be a number of years before I begin my seventh century,” I admonished her.

“I always thought I’d like to be with an older man for my first time, but I wasn’t thinking of someone over five hundred years older than me!” she giggled.

“You said last night you’re twenty-two, didn’t you?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s how old I was when I was ‘made’ into one of Us. I took my first life-mate two years later, so my physical aging stopped at that time. When Alexandra was killed, I began to age again. How old do you think I look?”

Azelia turned and propped herself on her elbow to study me. “When you first came into the club last night, I thought you were about twenty-five. Looking at you when I waited on you, I thought you might be a year or so older than that, but there was something in your eyes,…” she said.

“You knew! You knew about the importance of the eyes. Tell me what you saw in mine.”

“You looked like an old soul. Full of mystery, secrets, and passion. I was drawn to that. And then your eyes got,… I don’t know,… more intense. I felt like I was losing my will or something. I wanted you. I was aroused by you, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

“That’s what we do. Maybe you’ve heard stories about vampires ‘glamorizing’ their victims, mesmerizing them, taking away their free will. They do it so they can kill. We do it so we can drink the sexual essence of a new partner. You’ll learn to do this. From what I saw in your eyes last night as I was feeding from you, it will be easy for you to learn to bewitch your way into someone’s pants.”

“Or panties,” Azelia said, blushing. “I’m still not sure I can just go up to some random guy and offer him a blowjob.”

“Or panties,” I agreed. We were going to have a lot of fun, hunting as a team.

“Are you going to teach me to hunt?” she said.

“Of course, lover, but I suspect it will come naturally to someone like you.”

“I think I’m going to need to feed soon,” she said, running her hand down my body and laying it possessively on my manhood.

“Need to, or want to?” I asked.

“A little of both,” she giggled. “I’m also hungry in the old way, like I always was in the morning. Why is that?”

“A peculiarity of our race. We experience the Hunger that is exclusive to Us as well as the hunger that a mortal feels when his belly is empty. That was one way we could fit in with the mortals when the vampire hunters roamed, back when I was living with the Duke and Duchess. Those zealots with their mallets and stakes completely ignored anyone chomping on an apple or a leg of lamb,” I chuckled.

“You know what I could eat?” Azelia suddenly exclaimed, sitting up in bed.

I swear in the name of The One Who Sees All, her breasts were the most beautiful I had ever seen. “What?” I asked.

“A full Irish breakfast!”

“Yes! Toast, farl, soda bread, or potato farl? Which would you like?”

“Potato farl is my favorite,” Azelia said. “How do you know about that? You have an American accent. I’m surprised you know what potato farl is.”

“I spent my youth less than a four-hour carriage ride from this very spot. Do you like mushrooms with your breakfast?

“Yes, and Barry’s Tea,” she laughed.

“Barry’s isn’t bad, but it’s not as good as the original Assam tea we used to have at the Duke’s castle. There was a strange little man with an ox-cart. The head cook would choose his own blend, right there in the courtyard. Ah, well. Would you like to go out, or should I have breakfast delivered?”

“Let’s have breakfast here,” she said. “I don’t have anything to wear except my clothes from last night. I don’t want to walk around in the morning dressed like that. I really need a shower, too.”

“I’ll call room service, and have our meal delivered. Should we say forty-five minutes?” I asked.

“It won’t take me that long to get in and out of the shower, John,” she said, looking a bit hurt.

“It will if I fuck you first.”

Just before she took me in her mouth, she said, “Tell them to give us an hour.”

* * * * *

We were both dressed in our hotel robes when the server arrived with our breakfast. We were relaxed, enjoying the afterglow of a quick feeding, satisfying sex, and a hot shower. I said to Azelia, “Watch this,” when I answered the knock at the door.

A plump old woman greeted me and pushed a cart into the room. She was certainly not the kind I would ever choose to feed from, but I wanted to show something to Azelia.

As the server set out our meal, I moved so I could see her face. I willed her to look in my eyes, which she did several times. Each time, her lined cheeks flushed, and on the third glance I smelled her. This was probably the first time she had been wet in years, poor thing.

I heard quiet rumblings of the Hunger from Azelia. Stealing a look at her, I could see her nipples beneath her terry-cloth robe. Her lips parted, and a soft moan escaped them.

The old woman must have heard her. She looked Azelia’s way and almost dropped the teapot. With a shiver and an embarrassed look, she hurriedly finished serving our feast. After a quick, “Thank you and good day, sir and madam,” she fled.

As soon as the door closed, Azelia started to laugh. “What did you do to her, John?”

“Just a bit of the charm of the clan of Us, my dear. You have it. The poor old biddy didn’t get really wet until she made eye contact with you.”

“That was the coolest thing! She was so turned on! Do you think she understood what was happening to her?” Azelia asked.

“She certainly knew she was aroused. One look at your chest told her you were aroused, and that only made her hotter. Don’t worry, darling. She won’t say anything. She’ll probably just walk around all day with a guilty look on her face. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

As we feasted, Azelia asked me more about the clan of Us.

“We do what we can to adapt to our surroundings. Some of Us are entertainers, scientists, explorers, or artists, although most of Us keep a low profile. Many are comfortable enough financially that we don’t work regular jobs.

“What do you do? Do you work?” she asked.

“I inherited a sizable holding of land and money from my parents. Good investing has allowed me to live well, using my talents as a lute player and singer as my visible means of support,” I answered.

“Do you still play the lute?”

“Hardly anyone still plays the lute, my dear. But I’ve always been good with stringed instruments. I’ve played the violin in orchestras during the Renaissance, the string bass in blues bands in New Orleans during America’s Great Depression, and electric guitar during studio sessions with some of the greats of rock and roll.”

“Doesn’t the fact that you don’t age create a problem? Don’t people notice?” Azelia asked.

“They do, sometimes, if you stay in one place too long. The lives of many of Us tend to be somewhat nomadic. That’s one disadvantage we have. You, for example, could go back to work at Copper Face Jack’s and blend right in, but if you stay there too long, people may wonder why you don’t seem to get any older.”

“I don’t have many job skills,” Azelia said, “and I like being a barmaid, at least for now.”

“Then that’s what you should do. Besides, hunting at a place like that should be very easy for you.”

“I guess so,” she giggled. “I already get guys a couple of times a week who write their phone numbers on napkins or ask me to go home with them.”

“Splendid. Now you can take them up on it,” I said.

We finished our huge meal and were enjoying the last of the Barry’s. “I don’t have to work tonight or tomorrow night,” Azelia said. “What would you like to do?”

“I think your training should be what we focus on first. I propose we get dressed and go explore the city. There are hundreds of places we can go to feed.”

“I don’t want to go out for a day on the town in my barmaid clothes. I should go home to change.”

“I think you look stunning as you are,” I said.

“Oh! What happened to my robe?” Azelia squealed when she realized she was naked.

“We have certain magical powers,” I replied. “I got the urge to see your nude body, so I willed the robe off you. Let’s see, yes, I know what you should wear.” Instantly, Azelia was clad in tight khaki shorts, a navy polo shirt, and sensible walking shoes.

“How did you do that?” she exclaimed.

“I told you – magic.”

“You forgot undergarments,” Azelia said.

“No I didn’t. I didn’t want you to wear any.”

“But my breasts will move around, and you can see my nipples!”

“I know. We’re going to practice your hunting skills today. There’s nothing wrong with using your physical attributes to assist you. Let’s go,” I said, exchanging my robe for casual walking clothes of my own.

We took the lift to the lobby. I could hear the young woman behind the desk talking to a male co-worker, and realized that hers was the voice on the phone earlier. She seemed to be finishing her shift.

“Do you see her?” I said to Azelia, indicating the young woman.

“The slender blond behind the desk?”

“Yes. Do you find her attractive?”

“She’s beautiful. I would kill for a lithe body like that.”

“Would you like to feed from her?” I asked.

“What? How?”

“With your natural talents and the charm of Us. I’ll help you get started,” I said.

We waited until the young woman walked out from behind the desk, and then followed her down a corridor.

“Excuse me, miss!” I called.

She turned to look at us. “Hello. May I help you?” she smiled.

“Hopefully, Janet,” I said, making a show of reading her name tag. “My wife is interested in learning more about your spa facilities.”

“Oh, of course,” she said. “Follow this hallway to the end, and make a left just before the exit door. The spa, pool, and exercise rooms are in that area. You’ll find literature about our services at the entrance to the facility, and there are attendants to assist you.”

“Would you mind showing us?” Azelia asked. She fixed her emerald eyes on the blond, and I could hear Janet’s breath catch in her throat.

“Not at all,” she replied. There was a hint of the nipples on her small breasts hardening under her tailored uniform blouse.