I looked up at the night sky, so dark so early this time of year. It was the winter solstice, the darkest day of the year and my personal favorite holiday. I inhaled the frozen air, feeling the crackling cold in my nostrils, and entered JFK International Airport.
I love airports.
The variety of human beings at an airport brings true sport to people-watching. I’m captivated by them as they hurry about intent on their travel plans, so many from all over the world with different fashions, dozens of languages, multiple cultures, every flavor imaginable. It was a good night to practice this diversion. The Christmas traveling rush was on and the terminal was filled with people headed to visit with family in faraway locales.
After gliding through security, I found a good seat in the gate area. I pulled out a paperback and held it up, not actually reading it, but peering over the top of the spine at the parade of travelers streaming by.
My eyes caught a young man, tall and slender with dark curls and large brown eyes. He was beautiful, like Michelangelo’s David come to life. He looked around for a seat, a predatory gleam in his eye. Like me, he was searching for an attractive view.
Hoping to get his attention, I wiggled my shoe off and dangled it between my toes, the nails painted blood red. I waved them at him like a Matador flagging a bull. His eyes traveled from my toes all the way up my long legs to the hem of my short skirt, then casually looked away as he strode toward me. He sat down across from me and our eyes met. He smiled. How could I not return a smile like that? His teeth were perfect.
He rummaged in his carry-on bag and pulled out a book. We were playing the same game. Our eyes met again. This time, I took the initiative and spoke. “Hi, I’m Alexandra.”
“I am Marco,” he said. His rich voice was accented with an Italian inflection that aroused thoughts of strong cappuccino served on a warm terrace.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I couldn’t help but stare at him, savoring his flawless skin and perfect cheekbones. And those eyes! I could drown in those deep pools of melted chocolate.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Iceland,” I replied.
“Iceland? It is cold and dark this time of year.”
“I like the dark. It’s romantic.” I winked at him and was rewarded with a smile. I continued, “As for the cold? That’s what the hot springs are for. How about you? Where are you going?”
“I’m going home to Milan.”
“I love Milan.”
“You have been?”
“Many times.” I leaned forward, conscious of his eyes shifting to my breasts. I curled the long strands of my blonde hair between my fingers, my body language sending off all the right signals.
“Would you like to have a drink with me?” he asked, nodding towards the bar.
“It would be my pleasure.”
His grin widened across his face, pleased to find such easy prey. I returned his hungry look.
He stood and walked to the bar, a confident swagger to his gate, giving him the sexy cockiness of an alpha male. I picked up my bag and followed.
We sat down on the bar stools and ordered drinks. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, watching fixedly as he spoke, his full lips moving with the words, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down along the curve of his throat. His cologne, light and mingling with his own masculine scent, was intoxicating. I wanted to bury my face against him and inhale. He was delicious.
The bartender placed the wine in front of us. I dipped my finger in my glass and traced the edge, making it sing. He laughed and sipped his casually. We slipped into easy conversation and found the time passing quickly. We were both well practiced in the art of flirtation.
“My flight will be boarding soon,” I said, prompting him to take the next step. He leaned in and kissed me, gently but firmly. His lips were warm and wet. He tasted like wine. I put my hand on his thigh indicating I was ready for more.
“Maybe we should find someplace more private,” he whispered in my ear. I couldn’t resist him any longer.
“There’s a handicapped bathroom by the bookstore,” I suggested. “It’s a single-person stall with a lock on the door. It’ll be perfect.”
He touched my face, his warm fingers caressing my skin, and kissed me again, then stood and took my hand. “Lead the way.”
We found the restroom unoccupied and slipped inside unnoticed. I clicked the lock into place and turned to face him, staring at each other like ravenous wolves. A smirk played across his lips, a victorious gleam in his eyes. I pushed him against the wall and pressed my lips to his, kissing desperately.
I had never been shy but any last reserve I held fell away as I became an animal. I leaned against his chest, digging my nails into the firm muscles that lay beneath his shirt. He wrapped his arms around me and grabbed my backside with both hands, pulling me in closer. I ripped open the buttons to touch his bare skin as my own skin vibrated with excitement. I could feel him pressing against me, hard. I wanted him.
I nuzzled his neck and could feel the rhythmic beat of his pulse. I no longer could hold myself back. I extended my fangs and sank them into the artery just below the skin. The blood welled up into my mouth, tasting even sweeter than I imagined. I sucked hard, drawing his life into me.
I saw flashes of his existence; a birthday party, a dog running in a field, the girl he said he loved just to get into her pants on the beach. Some flashes were too brief to catch, others just colors and feelings. The images swelling into my mind as I fed fascinated me and turned me on almost as much as the blood itself. I didn’t spill a drop.
His grip on me tightened and he shuddered then sighed with pleasure. A wet stain spread across the crotch of his pants, his last action on earth as his life ejaculated from him. His heart stopped beating and he went limp.
Finished with my meal, I dropped the corpse on the tiled floor. It landed in a heap like a sack of dirty laundry, discarded after the sweet liquid that once burned through its veins now swirled in mine. My body hummed with it. I felt exhilarated.
I checked my lipstick in the mirror, adjusted my skirt and walked out into the terminal with a satisfied smile.
I love airports.
I love airports.
The variety of human beings at an airport brings true sport to people-watching. I’m captivated by them as they hurry about intent on their travel plans, so many from all over the world with different fashions, dozens of languages, multiple cultures, every flavor imaginable. It was a good night to practice this diversion. The Christmas traveling rush was on and the terminal was filled with people headed to visit with family in faraway locales.
After gliding through security, I found a good seat in the gate area. I pulled out a paperback and held it up, not actually reading it, but peering over the top of the spine at the parade of travelers streaming by.
My eyes caught a young man, tall and slender with dark curls and large brown eyes. He was beautiful, like Michelangelo’s David come to life. He looked around for a seat, a predatory gleam in his eye. Like me, he was searching for an attractive view.
Hoping to get his attention, I wiggled my shoe off and dangled it between my toes, the nails painted blood red. I waved them at him like a Matador flagging a bull. His eyes traveled from my toes all the way up my long legs to the hem of my short skirt, then casually looked away as he strode toward me. He sat down across from me and our eyes met. He smiled. How could I not return a smile like that? His teeth were perfect.
He rummaged in his carry-on bag and pulled out a book. We were playing the same game. Our eyes met again. This time, I took the initiative and spoke. “Hi, I’m Alexandra.”
“I am Marco,” he said. His rich voice was accented with an Italian inflection that aroused thoughts of strong cappuccino served on a warm terrace.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I couldn’t help but stare at him, savoring his flawless skin and perfect cheekbones. And those eyes! I could drown in those deep pools of melted chocolate.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Iceland,” I replied.
“Iceland? It is cold and dark this time of year.”
“I like the dark. It’s romantic.” I winked at him and was rewarded with a smile. I continued, “As for the cold? That’s what the hot springs are for. How about you? Where are you going?”
“I’m going home to Milan.”
“I love Milan.”
“You have been?”
“Many times.” I leaned forward, conscious of his eyes shifting to my breasts. I curled the long strands of my blonde hair between my fingers, my body language sending off all the right signals.
“Would you like to have a drink with me?” he asked, nodding towards the bar.
“It would be my pleasure.”
His grin widened across his face, pleased to find such easy prey. I returned his hungry look.
He stood and walked to the bar, a confident swagger to his gate, giving him the sexy cockiness of an alpha male. I picked up my bag and followed.
We sat down on the bar stools and ordered drinks. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, watching fixedly as he spoke, his full lips moving with the words, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down along the curve of his throat. His cologne, light and mingling with his own masculine scent, was intoxicating. I wanted to bury my face against him and inhale. He was delicious.
The bartender placed the wine in front of us. I dipped my finger in my glass and traced the edge, making it sing. He laughed and sipped his casually. We slipped into easy conversation and found the time passing quickly. We were both well practiced in the art of flirtation.
“My flight will be boarding soon,” I said, prompting him to take the next step. He leaned in and kissed me, gently but firmly. His lips were warm and wet. He tasted like wine. I put my hand on his thigh indicating I was ready for more.
“Maybe we should find someplace more private,” he whispered in my ear. I couldn’t resist him any longer.
“There’s a handicapped bathroom by the bookstore,” I suggested. “It’s a single-person stall with a lock on the door. It’ll be perfect.”
He touched my face, his warm fingers caressing my skin, and kissed me again, then stood and took my hand. “Lead the way.”
We found the restroom unoccupied and slipped inside unnoticed. I clicked the lock into place and turned to face him, staring at each other like ravenous wolves. A smirk played across his lips, a victorious gleam in his eyes. I pushed him against the wall and pressed my lips to his, kissing desperately.
I had never been shy but any last reserve I held fell away as I became an animal. I leaned against his chest, digging my nails into the firm muscles that lay beneath his shirt. He wrapped his arms around me and grabbed my backside with both hands, pulling me in closer. I ripped open the buttons to touch his bare skin as my own skin vibrated with excitement. I could feel him pressing against me, hard. I wanted him.
I nuzzled his neck and could feel the rhythmic beat of his pulse. I no longer could hold myself back. I extended my fangs and sank them into the artery just below the skin. The blood welled up into my mouth, tasting even sweeter than I imagined. I sucked hard, drawing his life into me.
I saw flashes of his existence; a birthday party, a dog running in a field, the girl he said he loved just to get into her pants on the beach. Some flashes were too brief to catch, others just colors and feelings. The images swelling into my mind as I fed fascinated me and turned me on almost as much as the blood itself. I didn’t spill a drop.
His grip on me tightened and he shuddered then sighed with pleasure. A wet stain spread across the crotch of his pants, his last action on earth as his life ejaculated from him. His heart stopped beating and he went limp.
Finished with my meal, I dropped the corpse on the tiled floor. It landed in a heap like a sack of dirty laundry, discarded after the sweet liquid that once burned through its veins now swirled in mine. My body hummed with it. I felt exhilarated.
I checked my lipstick in the mirror, adjusted my skirt and walked out into the terminal with a satisfied smile.
I love airports.
