Yeah… I was nervous. After all, I had never interviewed a vampire before. Heck, I wasn’t even sure if I believed they existed, despite all the various claims. To me… they were like, you know… those TV psychics. 2 percent real, the rest pure bullshit. This one claimed to be more than just a vampire. She had claimed she was a succubus. So I decided I wanted to interview her. To see if I could debunk her story actually. I was hoping for an expose.

“How old did you say you were?”
“I didn’t.”

Her voice carried a trace of secret amusement and it was getting really annoying. She smiled but didn’t show her teeth. I almost snarled but covered it up with a cough.

“Well, how old are you?”
“I’ve lost track really. How old do you think I am?”

I think you’re a smart-ass kid is what I think.

“You don’t look a day older than twenty-one.” I lied. She looked like she was eighteen. Nineteen tops. But she was supposed to be a hundred and ten or so. She smiled that little smile of hers again and lacing her fingers together, brought her hands up above her head in a lithe stretch. My eyes immediately riveted to her breasts. What can I say? I was a breast man and she had a nice pair.

“I’m over a hundred.” She said matter of factly. “Don’t look it, do I?”

I concurred.

In a city of exotics, she was more exotic than most. Caucasian and Asian mix, definitely. Probably more than a few races in her background. Her amber eyes tilted up at the corners and were fringed with long lush lashes. Double lidded. Her fair skin was a luscious pink. Not yellow. Her hair, midnight black. I had expected fetish. Goth perhaps. But definitely fetish. Instead, she was dressed like your typical girl-next-door, in shorts and a tee-shirt – a tight, skinny tee that showed her lovely breasts to their best advantage. I could see the outline of her bra and a faint shadow of nipple. The air-conditioned room was a little on the cool side.

I attempted to get the interview back on track. We’d started off by chatting a little then I had started to ask questions but got no where mostly. I tried again.

“What makes you think you are a vampire?”
“I don’t think it. I am.”
“Blood sucking and all?” I could not prevent a sneer from entering the tone of my voice.
“No.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. I leaned towards her instinctively.

“I don’t suck. That’s vulgar. I lap it. Lick it up in little licks. Lave it. Savor it on my tongue. Enjoy the bouquet as it fills my senses. ”

I almost dropped my pencil. Damn… she was good. Did I mention that she was also one of the highest paid prostitutes in town? Illegal? No… that’s a misconception. Prostitution isn’t illegal. Pimping is. There are brothels in this law abiding city. The girls… and boys, have to go to a clinic every month and display their doctor’s certificate in their rooms. They sometimes share rooms and a savvy client should be careful at some of the lower class brothels to make sure that the faces of their chosen partners for the hour or evening match those on the displayed certificates.

“So how do you go about getting blood? Does it have to be human? Fresh?”
“I make a withdrawal from the blood bank.”

That was delivered deadpan and I paused and looked up. She smiled now and showed her teeth. Good lord, Jesus! She had sharp elongated canines. I wondered how much that dental job had cost her and if she cut her lip often with those teeth.

“They are quite real. We don’t bite you know. What large puncture wounds our teeth would cause. A vampire killing and draining an entire human being is a myth. Why draw that kind of attention? Apart from the fact that there’s about five quarts of blood in a human. That’s a lot.”

I waited. When questions did not work, silence often did.

“It doesn’t have to be human blood. Human blood is just…” she waved her hands eloquently. “Like the finest wine. The different tastes… the bouquet… the complexity and nuances… it comes from the diet that humans partake of. Just the slightest taste fills the senses and sates the appetite. A vampire that takes more is just being greedy.”

“Does your diet consist mainly of blood then?”
“Good lord, no! I could never do without chocolate.”

She laughed and I laughed with her.

“So describe the meals on a normal day.”

She slanted me a purely mischievous yet sexual look, one which made my awareness of her shoot up a hundred percent.

“Well, I usually start my day with the fried embryonic young of lesser species.”
“Sunny side up or scrambled?”

She laughed again. I was beginning to warm up to her. Her movements were sinuous and sexy. I could see why she was so popular. She touched me and I grinned like a fool boy.

“Smart man… I think I like you. Better than any other so-called journalist.”
“I’m a reporter.”
“I know.”

Her voice was knowing. As if sharing an intimate secret. What else do you know? My libido sizzled. I cleared my throat.

“So if drinking blood makes you a vampire, what makes you a succubus? Your profession?”

“Dear man…” She stroked my arm. “It is because I am a vampire that I excel at my profession. I much prefer the term succubus to prostitute… and don’t you dare call me a whore.”

She touched the diamonds in an ear and on her neck, drawing my eyes to her ears and the long column of her neck, then down to her breasts again.

“Succubus is from the Latin, you know. Succubare, "to lie under" and although I do that on occasion, I think the word is not quite representative of what I am either.”

I nodded.

“You are one of the highest paid ladies of the night in…”

She did not let me finish.

“One? Darling…” she drawled that out. “Do not mistake me for a twenty dollar whore that just lies there and let’s a man poke at her. You want to spend an evening with me? It’s two thousand.”

I had heard her fee was high. I had not realized how high. I took a second look at the diamonds that adorned her again. They were real.

“You want to know why?”

She leaned toward me again and I reciprocated.

“I am a vampire.” Her voice was whisper soft and raised the hair on the back of my neck.

I had to clear my throat again as I sat back up. “Why is that?”

She leaned back against her chair and crossed her long legs.

“What do you know of the common myths of vampires and vampirism?”

I had done my homework and began to recite what facts I had garnered. She stopped me when I got to how legend claimed that vampires bit the necks of their victims and turned them into vampires as well.

“We do not bite, darling. We slice the skin ever so lightly. Just enough that blood oozes out. Then we lick it off. Slowly. Savoring every taste… every caress of the tongue across the wound. Again and again… until the wound ceases to bleed. Pleasuring ourselves and our willing captives.”

I was almost mesmerized by her voice and the picture she painted with her words. Already halfway aroused, I was fully hard before she finished speaking.

“A skilled vampire can make a woman come just by slowly laving a wound on her neck. That’s how a vampire binds a mortal to them.”

“And what does a female vampire do to a man?”

She smiled again, and that was how I found myself sitting naked on the chair, staring nervously while she slowly and sinuously stripped for me. Telling myself all the time that I was doing it for the sake of the article that I was writing. Never mind that she was drop dead gorgeous with some of the nicest breasts I had even seen on a woman.

She caressed my throbbing dick with her soft hands. Rubbed her face and lips all over me. Then with a secretive smile, she bared her teeth. Before I could change my mind, she sliced me. The pain was swift like a razor. Not that I had ever felt one across my privates, but before I could even protest, her hot tongue was on me and pleasure was exploding across my brain. Each lick of her tongue was like a brand of fire and searing pleasure tore through my body. I cried out and jerked with each caress. When she began to suck, I lost it and came until I thought I would never stop, while she purred around my dick and made sounds of pleasure.

When I came to, I had stopped bleeding. When I examined myself weeks after, there was a fine scar. Barely felt. Almost unseen. But repeated visits have left a pattern of very fine lines.

I dream sometimes. Memories of pleasure so strong that it’s as if a succubus did visit me while I slept. She won’t do me more than once or twice a year. Because she likes me, she says. New clients pay $10,000 is what I’ve heard and they are by referral only. It’s been over 20 years. She still looks nineteen.