The early 1800s...

This time, I settled in Paris, adopting the French derivative of my name — Vincent. With its dense population, narrow streets, and dark crevices, Paris suited my needs perfectly, allowing one such as myself a myriad of places to lurk during these unsettled times.

I had grown bored of occupying my time with philosophy and the arts of the Renaissance centuries before. And being what I was, proper affections for ladies could not last long. Would you fall in love if you knew your time with her could only end unnaturally? It was never long before she would notice that your face never wrinkled; your hair never grayed. Questions would arise, and then, sadly, I would be forced to take my leave.

To keep my life uncomplicated, I turned my attention to the fleshy indulgences of the many prostitutes of Paris. I had discovered something to rival my thirst for blood — a thirst for sex. Yes, sex was moderately successful at distracting me from my other craving. And as someone who had all the time in the world, I learned to take my time with this indulgence, too – as tonight's prostitute would soon see. Smiling smugly to myself, I imagined my night’s activities, planning how I would draw out her pleasure in an almost painful manner. For I had discovered a woman's body has a plethora of erogenous zones and I intended to educate her on each.

Indeed, the prostitutes served me exceedingly well in satisfying my lust. They were easy to spot, for they tried to imitate the upper-middle-class, yet fell short with their dirty white muslins and cheap silks. Also missing were their bonnets and shawls, which put their made-up faces and décolletage on full display. Typically, their hair hung loose. After all, their purpose was to incite arousal in men.

The best brothels were those catering to the elite. I had made a private little study, and on this particular night I sought out one particular brothel that I knew of. On entering I was immediately surrounded by a gaggle of lascivious prostitutes seeking my attention. My scent unknowingly drew them towards me, leaving the other gentlemen waiting in frustration for the leftovers. I carefully selected a particularly pretty tart that caught my eye and accompanied her to her room. Such a lovely young thing! Her hair was light brown and cascaded in loose waves around her creamy shoulders. She approached me at once, keenly working to open my breeches. Patience, my darling, I thought, with a wry smile. My hands gently pulled hers away and I brought each in turn to my lips. Her blue eyes widened in surprise at my gesture.

I leaned down and kissed her neck with the lightest of brushes. This was the moment of greatest self-control — to resist that pulsing vein in her neck. The smell of her fresh young blood burned my nose. Even the cheap perfume that filled the room couldn't mask the scent of the hot, bewitching liquid softly glugging through her body. Straining somewhat, I tore my attention from my blood-thirst and my kisses moved away from her neck to her red-painted lips. She returned my kisses with fervor. None yet could resist my hypnotic essence.

My cock strained impatiently against my breeches as our kissing intensified. She tilted her head back, giving me access to her voluptuous breasts spilling out over her top. I kissed her exposed bosom, working my nose down between her delectable valley, whilst my fingers worked the laces on her gown with practiced ease. As her dress pooled around her feet, I maneuvered to unlace her corset, tasting each inch of skin as it was revealed to me. Soon, her corset joined the gown on the floor. Walking back around I cupped her breasts, unable to capture all of her within my palms. She cooed and squirmed, begging me for more.

Slowly, I worked my way down her body. Her slightly plumped tummy enjoyed my tracing fingertips and licks of my tongue. I played with the hair on her mound, occasionally reaching down to strum her delightful clitoris. I very much enjoyed edging the ladies — something few men, unfortunately, took the time to do. I stroked her calf up to her thigh as I gently placed her leg on my shoulder, opening her delicious cunt for me. She became undone as I buried my face in her furry chalice. Any remaining decency abandoned her as she squealed dirty words in her excitement — words no lady, not even a lady of the night — should repeat. My tongue in her most private of places pulled out her first, noisy orgasm.

I stood, needing her mouth on me now, and gently pushed on her shoulders. Experience told her what I wanted and she knelt obediently before me. Her eyes never left mine as her fingers unfastened my breeches and released my throbbing member. She was mine now — completely under my control. She would have serviced me willingly without the coin at this point, but I wouldn't dream of cheating her. After all, as an alchemist, I could make more gold than I would ever need! For centuries, others had whispered jealously about the source of my great wealth but, not surprisingly, I had never shared that little secret.

My eyes closed in relief as her mouth sucked me. In and out, she worked my cock. My buttocks clenched when my hips started to thrust my cock deeper. Ahhh, she was good, but my need was great! I took matters into my own hands and gently squeezed her head, holding her in place so I could fuck her compliant mouth at my desired speed. Her eyes started to water and I relaxed my thrusting, remembering my strength and not wishing to hurt her.

I pulled my cock out and lifted her into the air, then plunged her back down, impaling her cunt on my rigid staff. She gasped, eyes wild with her lust. Backing her against a wall, I held her up while my cock stretched her yielding cunt. My cock continued to lengthen as I fucked her.

No doubt she had been fucked many times, but her walls still felt tight around my thick cock. My hands cupped her plump bottom, driving deeper and deeper. She screamed with each thrust, caught in that delicious space of not wanting me to stop, yet begging for release. I had to maintain control so as not to slam her through the wall. It was always the most dangerous time as I neared my release. Have to keep control! I thought, teeth gritting together momentarily. Then my mouth mashed against hers as we came together.

This lucky young whore received my undivided attention to all of her delicacies. Our lovemaking was anything but her usual brush with a selfish customer. After some time, however, my thirst returned with a deadly vengeance. I had vowed never to feed on those I pleasured, so I quickly took my leave of her, my cock satiated for the evening.

I now had to address my lust for blood which raged within me. I hoped I was not too late! I rapidly began to stalk the nearby dark streets, my keen eyes searching for a suitable opportunity. Then, I spied her — a lady elegantly dressed, walking a street soon to be near a darkened alley. With undetectable movements, I was swiftly upon her, my fangs descending, ready to harvest what I needed.

Oh God no! My thirst was too much! Almost immediately, I realized that I was losing control. I had left it too long! Unable to stop myself, I greedily sucked, drinking her body dry, her succulent blood filling me, making me moan with pleasure.

I stood over her ... watching. As the life slowly drained from her body, her accusing eyes never closed. It was as if she wanted me to remember that moment when she realized what I was — a monster. Terror. Disgust. Her face painfully contorted, revealing all those feelings in her final moments. I was horrified! I wouldn’t ever forget the sight of her in my arms like this. I had been too careless! Her lifeless body would forever tug at my heart — if I had one, that is…

Shamefully, I finally managed to tear my eyes from her — only to glimpse another pair upon me — a very recognizable pair. The prostitute I had so recently lain with! She stood frozen at the entrance to the alley with her mouth agape in shock and horror. She had seen the monster within me. Finally gathering herself, she turned on her heels and fled, screaming for the police as she ran.

Having no heartbeat, I knew the police would think me dead when they found me. As such, I was buried in a plain wooden box with no pomp and circumstance — entirely fitting for a man of my despicable crime. I surely deserved no velvet lining. Forever damned, I accepted my fate; I was weary and tired of the constant struggle. I closed my eyes and slept.

~ooOoo~

75 years later…

I awoke from my long slumber with a fresh outlook, clawing my way out from the ground. This time my life would be different — or so I hoped. It didn't take long, however, for the all-too-familiar burn to course through my veins...

(To be continued...)