Making love. Coitous. Fucking. Whatever you want to call it, I hate sex.
That wasn't always the case though. There was a time, not too long ago even, that I loved sex above anything else; well, anything except for Poe. She would let me do whatever I wanted though. She would often throw wild parties, many of which degenerated into mass orgies, rooms full of twisted limbs, the wet sound of bodies fucking and sucking each other in drug-hazed abandon. I'd be right in there with the rest of them, my face buried in some young girl's snatch while someone else, I usually didn't know if it was even a man or a woman, took my cock into their mouth, someone else behind me with their finger inside my ass. Once when I came home looking upset Poe even had Kit, my "sister", drop to her knees and suck me off right there on the spot, just so I would feel better. After I shot a load my of hot come into her mouth, which she dutifully swallowed (on Poe's command), I definitely felt much better. Now who wouldn't love a woman like that? She took good care of me.
I never slept with either of them though, since Kit and Poe were both already vampires by the time I met them. Vampires like I am now. Every day, from now until eternity, when I look in the mirror I'll see the same dark eyes, surrounded by the same faint blue circles. The same tangled black curls that fall down over them, and bob almost to my shoulders. The same tall body, thin and somewhat bony from years of hard drugs and hard living. No, we never slept together. Oh, I wanted to, believe me. But for some reason they never would. Of course I know why now.
I found out five years ago. I came home from the nightclub I was playing at, it was about three in the morning. I was wearing my heavy turtleneck, the one I hardly ever take off now, and since it was winter and the nights were stretching longer and longer I knew Poe, and possibly even Kit, would be home and wide awake, waiting for my return. The smell of jasmine drifted by my nose as I opened the door. I had to squint my eyes to see inside, because Poe had all the lights out except for a few candles burning over the fireplace, and a few more by the old oak staircase that spiraled up to the landing on the second floor. There were more candles burning up there, the dim lights flickering inside of Poe's opened door. I stepped into the lavish home Poe had owned for the last two hundred years, closing the door behind me and making my way to the den. Leaning my battered guitar case against the fireplace I noticed a bucket of ice with two bottles and three glasses on the coffee table. One of the bottles was a merlot, but it was the other that caught my eye. An unmarked green bottle, opened. The smell of potent blood mingled with the jasmine incense in the air. Kit's blood; perhaps Poe's, if I was lucky.
I took one of the glasses and filled it one fourth of the way with the sweet merlot. The second quarter was filled from the other bottle. I swirled the two crimson liquids around in the glass and took a long drink, savoring the way the sweet and coppery tastes mingled over my tongue. The taste of the blood caused a stirring in my groin as I swallowed the entire glass in one gulp. That's when I heard noises from above.
"Oh yes...mmm...that feels so good...".
I had assumed the third glass was meant for Kit, but it was another woman's voice I heard coming from Poe's bedchamber. Now curious, and more than slightly aroused, I took the bucket and glasses upstairs, trying my best to quiet my footfalls as Poe had taught me.
