Neomodern Nosferatu

Gina was dozing off secure in his arms when he quietly reminded her, "It's nearly sunup." He kissed her softly on her nape. "I have to go."

She turned and glowered. "It seems men never change – even when they're the undead."

"You know how photophobic I am." He pulled back the sheet and sat up on the fallen bedspring.

"Well, at least that's one of the most novel excuses for a man to cut and run from a woman's bed once he's grabbed the trophy." Gina sat up on one elbow and brushed her hair from her face.

"I'm a vampire, remember? I can't abide daylight."

"But the shades are down. How can it hurt you? What does it matter? I shouldn't expect anything anyway. Thanks for the pity fuck." The sheet billowed in the wind of her temper.

Clive pounced on her. "You can't seriously think that?"

"Come on, Clive, you smelled desperation on me, and like a mongrel in heat you made your move. Don't deny your animalistic tendencies. They come with the territory of being a blood-feasting denizen of the night, don't they?"

"Gina, I made passionate love to you. Just look at the bed! I took precautions. I didn't stalk you like prey and devour you. How can you be so heartless?" He stood up and began dressing.

"What are you doing?"

He pulled on his wig and stepped into his pumps. "I'm going out."

"But it's dawn. You can't go out."

"What do you care?" Tears filled his eyes. Hurt torqued his voice.

Gina got up to grab him. "What is wrong with you? Come back to bed." She urged him onto the sorry collapsed mattress and kissed the salty trickle from his sallow cheek. "Geeze, I would think in five hundred and forty years you would have grown up, but like most men, you're just a big baby."

"Disappointed?" he sniffled.

"No." She pressed her lips lightly to his and sighed, "I'm just being a typical mortal woman hungry for love." She pushed him back on the bed and pulled off his skirt. She kissed his soft penis curled up in the cushy down of his pubic hair. It unfurled like a flag in a stiffening breeze with each draw of her tongue.

Clive groaned with delight and damned the onset of day. He hurriedly strapped the gag to his face and sank his fangs into the leather bit. He tore off his clothes and hastened her to fasten the restraints to his wrists.

The radio alarm clicked on and gleefully chirped, "...with temps in the mid-eighties and no storms on the horizon until late Tuesday, it's going to be a perfect Saturday in July. So fire up that barbeque and grill up some tasty meats...."

Gina didn't have to be told. She was already sizzling like shish-kabob on Clive's skewer as the hot rays of the day peeked past the corners of the window shade.