(note: I own nothing and only play with toys Alan Ball owns. While I have done my best to keep from being too descriptive here, a certain amount of questionable talk was necessary given the circumstances and Tara's normal mode of expressing herself. Please keep that in mind if you decide to read the story.)

From Parking Lot to Cheap Motel

(or, What Franklin Learned in Tibet)

He was looking at me with eyes glazed over from lust. It wasn't an expression I was used to seeing after giving in to violent impulses in public. I wasn't thinking that at the time, of course - I wasn't thinking anything much at all except "He's here. He's willing.", and having the general idea he could do something about all the adrenaline throbbing through me.

I stepped over the pulpy redneck on the ground, grabbed Brit Vamp's black shirt and kissed him, long and hard. He responded, and every nerve ending I had exploded. It was . . . different . . . kissing a guy with rattlesnake fangs, but I was so wound up I'd have jumped him if he'd had walrus tusks.

I tried to rip his shirt off, but it was made out of some stretchy material and I finally just jerked it over his head. When his arms came down he grabbed me hard around the waist, lifted me up and walked to a nearby car. As often as I'd thought how creepy a vampire's cold body would be, I was actually enjoying his coolness against my over-heated skin.

There was a thump as my back hit the passenger side door, and he fumbled around in his pocket for the keys while our lips were still locked together. My blood at full boil, I started rubbing my crotch against his and he got my jeans and panties off with stunning speed and we took each other braced against the car.

It only lasted a couple of minutes and that was all I needed but far from all I wanted. Apparently not all Brit Vamp wanted either. He opened the passenger door, pushed me in and tossed my jeans to me. I don't know what happened to the panties; somebody found a souvenir that night.

By the time he got in the driver's side, I had my jeans back on, more or less. As he pulled out of Merlotte's parking lot I tugged his zipper down and got at him with my mouth. It wasn't something I did a lot, but the way I felt right then, it was fuck or die.

It wasn't long before he was parking in front of a cheap motel and, pushing my mouth off him, he flipped me over, getting my jeans off again in the process. He was inside me before I could draw my next breath, and when I did the noise that came out was a deep, animal groan. I braced myself in the awkward front seat, wrapped my legs around his waist and met his thrusts with rabid eagerness.

He came a few seconds after me, got his clothes together and backed out of the car. Finding one leg of my jeans still on, I scrambled to get back into them properly before he opened the door on my side, picked me up out of the seat and carried me into his motel room.

We made it as far as the rug in front of the door before we were fucking again. By this time my blood was finally starting to drop slowly from full boil to it's usual steady simmer, so I was able to consider things like bad rug burn and switch over to the bed before I lost an entire layer of skin.

The session on the bed ended with me riding him long and slow to an orgasm so noisy I bit into his shoulder to keep the manager from throwing us out. Had I been completely back in my right mind, I would have never bitten a vampire under any circumstances but at the time his shoulder was right here and looked more sound absorbent than a thin motel pillow.

I don't think he minded it, really. His arms tightened around me hard enough to leave bruises, and when he came he snarled something I couldn't understand in a language I don't think was English. At least, not the English I spoke. But he kissed my neck and shoulders gently while I was getting my breath back, and I noticed that bite marks I'd made had completely healed, leaving only a smear of his blood behind on his skin.

He waved a hand at me dreamily when I asked to use the shower, and I wobbled into the dingy little bathroom with its tiny shower stall. I was nearly finished by the time he joined me, first knelling on the tiles with his face between my legs and his tongue as fast as a vibrator (or so I've heard), then pressing me to the shower wall where we fucked with my legs around his waist until the water turned too cold for me to stand.

I moaned happily and sagged boneless in his arms while he turned the water off.

"Have a good time?", he asked in his wonderful accent.

"Oh man, " I sighed, "this is the first time I've ever been able to fuck as much as I've wanted to!"

He laughed, and took me back to the bed. I told him I was too tired to fuck anymore but he said he had something special in mind that he thought I'd like, something he'd learned in Tibet, and I wouldn't have to move a muscle.

Why the hell not? I thought. I've enjoyed everything else we've done together.

He was serious about the not moving; once he'd entered me we were both motionless, staring into each others eyes. It felt silly at first, and then the damnedest thing happened. I could feel him in me, from both our sides of it. While I was getting over that surprise, I realized I could also feel a cool breeze from the window touching his back and I knew, without doubt, that he could feel the drop of water moving down my side.

I've never been into that kumbaya-we-are-all-one crap, but it was actually happening. I lost all sense of myself as an individual, as separate and distinct. And it was more than feeling one with him - I'd lost all sense of being separate from the room we were in, from the little bug crawling along the baseboard, from the trees outside, even from all the damn stars in the sky.

It was amazing, and scary, and powerful. Everything was a swirling flood of the most astonishing sensations, and then everything started to come, or at least that's how it seemed. We were all levitating, rising up as an indescribable ecstasy roared through this borderless vastness, making it all light up before we sank down again and I went back to being just individual me.

Back to myself in time to see his eyes close in blissful anticipation as his jaw dropped open, leaving his fangs fully bared. I knew that look, I'd had it on my own face before biting into a favorite food.

And I told him to go ahead, to just fucking do it. I mean, damn, it was kind of his turn anyway even if I didn't relish the whole becoming a snack experience.

But he didn't do it; it cost him something to stop but he pulled back and told me no, he wouldn't do it because I wanted him to. I didn't care for the sound of that, but before I could ask him exactly what that meant he'd flipped me tail over toes at high speed and entered the last unexplored opening I had left.

And I thanked whatever powers there were for men who knew how to use their dicks and let him give us both a good time. Better than I expected, in fact, and we were feeling loose and talkative afterwards. He was honest enough to admit that the mind-blowing sex was a vampire thing - something to do with supernatural stamina, I'd guess - and not a personal gift. If he hadn't unwittingly reminded me of Eggs, and that whole damned Maryanne mess, I don't know how long I would have stayed in his bed.