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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2010.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

Forever November
by Stephanie Kay Buffman (address withheld)

***

I felt a warmth trickle down my neck, followed by an 
eager tongue. At once the music ended, the beat stopped, 
my heart ceased. (MF, fantasy, vampire, rom)

***

I met him one November. Think about it. November. Even 
the month itself abounds in mystery. When I think about 
it now, I realize that I really didn't meet him. I'm not 
even sure what you would call our acquaintance. Maybe 
fate. Definitely a precedent for the future.

It was late and I was making my way home, through the 
fields that lay between the Vicar's house and ours. I 
first spied him between the trees that lay at the edge 
of the surrounding grove. At first glance all I could 
see was a tall dark shadow of a man. My heart jumped, 
yet I continued to walk. I passed the area where he had 
been and walked quickly beyond the vicinity.

I entered the scruff of foliage at the edge of the 
fields and passed quickly through it to the next stretch 
of pasture. As I entered the circle of grass, I stopped 
to pull my cloak tighter around my shoulders. The 
November wind was a bitter one. I bowed my head for a 
moment as I adjusted my clothing, and when I looked back 
up, there he was. In front of me, not more than ten feet 
away, the shadow man.

I was struck first by his extreme pallor, accentuated by 
his ruby lips. His hair was slicked back, away from his 
ghostly countenance. 

Don't look into his eyes, something whispered in my ear. 
Perhaps my conscience, perhaps an angel of some sort. 
Either way, I disregarded.

I lifted my head upward to gaze into his eyes, strangely 
intense. Black with an underlying aura of violet. He 
stared back and his lips slowly curled into a sly half 
smile.

I half smiled back. He extended his hand, and I walked 
forward to meet his grasp. His hands bore white gloves. 
I noticed he was a fine dressed gentleman, of probably 
fifty years. The most captivating aspect of his attire 
was a jet black cape, lined in crimson brocade.

Our hands met and he raised mine to his lips and kissed 
it gently, never losing eye contact. No words were 
needed. We began to waltz.

The beat of my heart provided the music, and the 
gentleman followed it gracefully. We circled and twirled 
until the pasture became a ballroom, we two being the 
only dancers. My heart became a violin, uttering forth 
the sweetest fragile tune.

The rhythm got stronger, until I thought my heart would 
explode for intensity of it. The room began to spin and 
whirl, yet we two dancers kept time with the waltz. 
Suddenly, through unspoken words, the gentleman asked 
politely, "May I?"

To which I firmly answered "You may..."

Our lips met and I was overwhelmed with passion. Not 
unlike the dance, the kiss seemed to breathe life 
eternal. The room spun, the dancers whirled, and my 
outstretched mind circled them both. I could no longer 
breathe and tore my mouth away from his. 

He bent close to my face. I could feel his breath, hot 
on my cheek. He turned his face ever so slightly and 
kissed my hair. We kept turning and his lips travelled 
down. My cheek, my ear, my neck... 

He nuzzled my neck with his cheek and began to kiss 
again. I was astonished at how such an aged gentleman 
could awaken such fires within me. I felt his mouth open 
the slightest bit, as he nibbled ever so slightly. We 
twirled and I caught a glimpse of us in the ballroom 
mirror. I was dancing alone.

Twas then that it happened. I felt a sharp stabbing pain 
in my neck. Vertigo consumed me. I felt a warmth trickle 
down my neck, followed by an eager tongue. At once the 
music ended, the beat stopped, my heart ceased.

I awoke in the pasture once again. My cloak was lying 
bundled next to me. 

A dream, I thought. Only a dream.

I gathered my cloak and scrambled to my feet. It had 
seemed so real. I raised a trembling hand to my throat, 
only to meet a warm, sticky wetness. I pulled my hand 
away and in the pale moonlight, I gazed upon blood. Red, 
dark, my own.

I looked around frantically for some semblance of the 
dream from which I had come, but there was none to be 
found.

I closed my eyes and seemed to hear the wind whisper 
unspoken words. I opened them again and found nothing.

I gathered my cloak around my shoulders and began the 
remainder of my never-ending journey.

---Stephanie Kay Buffman, March 4, 1992.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 67