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To look directly into the vampire's eyes.
He was dressed in black, but not in the standard vampire
tuxedo. No, he wore black blue jeans and a black cotton shirt, a
black stetson down low over his eyes. He smiled just enough to
show the tips of his fangs. "I do love that dress, Amanda."
"Mother always said I was crazy," I muttered.
"You're not crazy. Hot, wet and tempting, yes, but not
crazy." He smiled again, a little more broadly, and as I
watched, his fangs lengthened like cocks coming erect.
"No," I said, more to myself than the man I believed wasn't
even there.
"Had any good wet dreams lately, Amanda? I certainly hope
so--I put a lot of effort into them. The one with the wolf,
though--that was inspired, if I do say so myself. And you loved
it." There were those fangs again. "Foreplay is the best part.
Well, maybe not the best part..."
"Foreplay my ass," I said, snapping out of my moment of
fear. "That was my subconscious, dreaming up a way out of a case
of
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