It was a pleasant and fun-filled drive, and it was so early when we arrived at the Clarion Hotel in Key West that we had the desk send us up several bottles of wine to help us pass away the evening. I never have been a slave to the creature comforts, but the room was lovely and the view from the veranda was gorgeous and ... yes, romantic.

Freya insisted that I clean up first—I chose not to read anything into her request—and when I came out from the shower, she was sitting and relaxing on the plush sofa at the foot of our spacious room's single enormous bed.

It didn't occur to me until that moment that, without thinking, I'd booked a room with just one bed. Freya said not a word about the arrangement.

"I could sleep on the couch tonight, you being married and all," I told her. I nearly patted myself on the back for being so mature and resolute.

She finished her sip of wine and giggled. "Don't be silly. It's just us girls here. Besides, the bed is incredible."

I went over and gave it a few tentative pokes before jumping on and having a short bounce. It truly was splendid. I then went over and nudged around the kitchenette to see if there was anything on which to nibble. The shelves and fridge were stocked amply with numerous things that were worth more than just a nibble or two.

"Would you like anything?" I said as I pulled some cheese and crackers from the fridge.

"Did you fuck Fallon last night?" Freya's words were just a breathless whisper, as if she was having a hard time catching her wind.

I went over and sat next to her, near but not too near. One of us needed to be an adult, and I decided it had to be me. I took in her beautiful eyes, drew a breath, and prepared what I had planned to say should this moment come. Then I said just the opposite.

"Take all your clothes off and climb into bed, and I'll tell you."

"Ohhh ...," she nearly moaned. "I really shouldn't oughta do that." Her hand fumbled out, gently caressed my cheek, and landed on my shoulder. Even through the thick terrycloth of the hotel robe, her touch was like fire. Her voice was still just a husky whisper. "I really do want to see you naked, though."

I reached out to touch her thigh, not in a sexual way, but in a comforting way. It was then I realized she very much was trembling.

"You just want to see if I have any scars," was my conspiratorial whisper. "All in the name of science, of course."

"Yes, absolutely."

I led her by the hand to our far too comfortable bed, slipped my robe off, and stretched out in front of her. When I did, I lay her hand on my stomach, and slid over just enough to make room for her.

Freya was shaking as if from the cold, and her breathing was uneven. With her gentle, soft, trembling hands, she began to make slow caresses of my stomach, her eyes ranging up and down. There was something like hunger in her gaze, but also a hint of shame. I slid a gentle hand up my lover's arm to comfort her, and to steady my own shaking.

I always liked my body. My breasts were small, but my waist and hips were exactly as a woman's should be. I otherwise was long, lean, and spare.

"When I was a girl," I told her, "I was so tall my parents thought they'd never find a match for me. But over the ages, people got taller. Now I'm not much taller than the average woman."

My words seemed to sooth her, and, after some minutes, her trembling diminished. Her breathing though still belied her excitement. She truly was inspecting my body, slowly and with great care. Soon, she shifted her body closer to mine until our thighs touched, and she examined my flesh, inch by inch, from the midriff upward.

When her gentle probing reached my breasts, her hands again began to tremble.

"I've never kissed a woman," she whispered.

I sat up and pulled her lips against mine for a long and passionate exchange. When I thought I could breathe no longer, her head slid down and she began kissing and sucking my breasts with the greatest passion and desire.

I don't fully remember pulling Freya's clothes from her body, but I do remember my shock of delight when I saw her naked flesh for the first time. Had a learned scholar of mathematics done all the cogitations and calculations, they no doubt would have found nothing special about her parts. But put them all together, and Freya's naked body was a symphony of excellence, words and music without flaw. I spent hours bathing myself in her flesh. Touching and retouching every spot, kissing and worshiping her every fold and curve.

I've never been one for such silliness, but I found myself counting her every climax. All that existed in the world was my delight in her lips, her eyes, and her skin, and my obsession with making her cum.

A few hours before dawn, Freya took me in her arms, pressed her lips against mine, and spent long minutes drinking every ounce of me. She then pleaded surrender and fell asleep as Fallon had done the evening before, stretched out beside me with half her body draped over mine.

I was numb with delight, and the feel of her silky softness and the warmth of her slumbering body against mine filled me with wave after wave of pleasure.

What was happening in my life?

Of the hundreds, if not thousands, of lovers I'd taken throughout the ages, I did not have to take off my shoes to count the number of them who were women. I simply loved men. And yet now I'd bedded two women in as many days, each of them hauntingly beautiful and desirable.

Might God actually love me? Or was this all part of some divine long con, some wicked heavenly scheme. Was God setting me up as some sort of patsy? When would the other shoe drop?

After much cogitation, I decided I didn't care. These last days had given me more happiness than I'd known. If tomorrow I died, or if for the rest of my life fate dealt me nothing but bucket upon bucket of shit, I would still come out on top. Those two days were that good.

Why had I been so blessed, you might ask? People are always asking such questions, but I try not to trouble myself with whys. Even without the sex, I would have adored these two people. And that was enough.

***

It was another morning of mortified blushes that soon went away. From the moment she awoke, Freya seemed embarrassed to be naked in front of me. It took another round of passionate lovemaking for her anxiety to ease. It was a morning as delightful as the evening before.

The only hiccup was when room service arrived at just past 10:00 am and let themselves in. Our cleaner, an older Cuban woman, let out a shriek at the sight of two naked women in bed. I at first offered to vacate the room to allow her to restock and clean, but as she seemed in a hurry—such folks often were worked far too hard—I asked that she just leave a few things.

To my eternal surprise, Freya, who at first had hid beneath the blankets, eventually popped out her head, gave me a passionate kiss, and waved to the smiling and embarrassed cleaner a friendly goodbye. I'm sure the nice woman had seen far more shocking things than that.

We soon relaxed. Freya took a comfortable position atop me, her thighs scissoring one of mine, occasionally giving my leg a gentle squeeze and pulling herself closer. Her irregular breathing told me the position gave her great pleasure. But that pleasure was not so overwhelming that she and I couldn't talk.

"Did you hypnotize me?" Freya asked not long after the cleaner had departed.

"Is that a power movie vampires have?" I asked as a reply.

"Yes."

"Unfortunately, it's not a power real vampires have. But, um ... what exactly was I supposed to have hypnotized you to do?"

She buried her face in the hollow of my throat and whispered, "You know ... the lesbian sex."

"Is that what that was?"

"Yes." She seemed surprised.

"Are you a lesbian?" I asked.

"No."

"Well, I'm not a lesbian either."

She gave a long quiet groan. "Then what was this all about?"

"Last night? That was me shamelessly fucking the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on."

Out of nowhere, Freya's body began to tremble, and she gasped several times.

"Did you cum again?"

"Yup," she whispered. "All your fault."

I reached over for the tiny leatherbound notebook the hotel left for guests as a courtesy. I'd printed F.O. on the front page in order to keep a careful listing of Freya's many orgasms. I'd never done such a bizarre thing in my life, but I wanted to do it now.

"Why are you doing that?" Her voice was the same sexy whisper.

"I like counting your orgasms."

"Keep telling me how beautiful I am, and you're gonna run out of ink."

She'd continued her gentle pressure against my thigh, and now her hands rose and took rough handfuls of my hair as she buried her face against my breasts. Many minutes later, after much sucking, and squeezing and pulling, she climaxed yet again, an event I duly noted in the log.

I was fascinated with watching and reacting to her passion. She seemed totally lost in what she was doing, and I thought I too might cum.

"Oh, oh, oh," she murmured after a short time. She gave an embarrassed gurgle. "I've always wanted to suck on a woman's tits."

"Just that?"

"Ohhh ...," she groaned. "I've thought of other things. You know, kissing lips and ... um, some other stuff. But I've only ever fantasized about tits, and about sucking on them."

"Happily, my tits have an open-door policy for beautiful doctors."

She raised her head from my breasts and gave me the most loving kiss. "You are the first woman I ever wanted to fuck."

"But not the last?"

"Oh ... nooo ...," she whispered.

I drank several deep draughts from her lips. "Sweetheart," I murmured, "if I would have known you were interested, I would have invited you to join us."

Another fit of quaking shook my sweet friend's beautiful and slim body, and I reached again for the official log.

***

We passed the day in that fashion, talking and touching one another in turn. Freya spent more time examining my body. She marveled time and again that I had not a single discernable scar and that my skin had every indication of belonging to someone in their teens. Her fascination with my breasts shifted between lustful and scientific.

"That is so intriguing," she said, cupping my left breast in a clinical fashion before letting it fall. "It's like gravity has never touched them."

"They are awfully small."

"Even little boobs sag with time." She gave me a suspicious look, as if again pondering me, and then shifted to examining my teeth. "How old did you say you were?"

I made a few incoherent sounds before she took her hands out of my mouth. "A little over 800," I said when she did.

She immediately went back to touching and probing my mouth, hemming and hawing all the while. "I'm not a dentist, but these are some mighty fine choppers you've got. Flawless. And you haven't had any work done, have you?"

"Nope. I file down the fangs every once in a while. But they're otherwise as I got them. New in box."

"I thought vampires didn't have fangs," she said.

"No, we don't."

"Then how is it again you drink ...? Oh, wait. You just take a big bite."

I took her hand and carefully ran her index finger along my top and bottom row of teeth.

"Ew!" she said. "Those are rather sharp. "How do you keep from getting blood all over the place?"

"When I eat? I don't. That's why I always feed naked. Saves from getting blood on my clothes."

She gave a sweet howl.

"Yup," said I. "If someone sees me naked, it's either because we are about to have sex, or I'm about to kill them."

"But never both?"

"I never mix the two. Though a lot of my kind do, especially the men. It's sort of gross and, I dunno, sad in a way."

"I have a friend in publishing," she said. "I should introduce you to him."

"To fuck or kill?"

She gave a shriek midway between shock and delight. "Neither! You should write all this down."

"I might just. But don't show me off to any of your friends. They might not like me."

"I find that hard to believe."

We were sitting opposite one another on the couch, our legs intertwined. And I'd spent the last hour pondering while I was being poked and prodded by Fraulein Doctor.

I knew how obsessive I could be. I was single minded and determined, and not always in a healthy way. I spent part of that time wondering what Freya's reaction would be to the death of her husband. He seemed to mean a great deal to her, but the man meant bupkes to me, her children even less.

There was never any doubt this would happen. It's part of why I so resisted falling into bed with the woman. But who was I kidding? I always was going to end up in bed with her, from the first moment I saw her. When I want something, I want it. And I'm willing to do anything to have it.

And, yet, had it just been her body that I coveted ....

Well, I coveted Fallon's body, down to the tips of her toes. But the rest of her? I didn't feel that sense of mania about the lass. Did I long again to touch her silky flesh? Did I wish to look into her eyes, and to rejoice in the sound of her sweet voice? To exult at her amiable presence? Absolutely.

But if things were to go well between Fallon and her young man, and that fact somehow limited my access to her, I still would be thrilled for her. And I spent not a single sliver of a moment thinking of ways to do away with her lad.

No, I'd followed Freya down the rabbit hole, the rabbit hole of my own making, as so often I did, be it about love, or war, or ... my desire to get the last donut at the local diner. I was insufferable and incorrigible.

"I don't want to go home tomorrow," Freya said. She was looking at the screen of her phone and gently caressing my leg as she spoke.

"So, stay a few extra days. Stay as long as you like."

"Oh, God. I wish I could."

"You can."

"I'm not a woman of leisure," was her stern reply. "God, I envy you."

"How so?"

"You are so carefree." She looked straight at me. "I've known that I wanted to be a doctor since I was ten years old. And I always knew I wanted to marry and have children."

"So ....?"

"So, I .... I never really thought." A look of weariness came upon my sweet friend, and when she spoke it was with a great sadness. "I have everything. But I'm an adjunct to everything, an accessory, a part of everyone else's lives except my own. I'm a part of my kids, and a part of my husband, and part of the hospital and my practice. I'm a part of a dozen different professional and civic organizations. I raise money for my old alma mater, I ...." Her voice then became thick with emotion. "There isn't any me. I'm just a loaf of bread that's been cut into fifty different slices. And everybody has a slice except for me."

I took Freya's legs and slid her close, and all thoughts of murdering her husband abandoned me. "Your family is very lucky to have you," I whispered.

Tears leapt to her eyes, no doubt as my words reminded her of her infidelity. "Are you trying to make me feel bad?"

"I am not," I said. "You are a wonderful person. But we all need to be selfish sometimes. If you give and give and give until there is nothing left of you to give, then nobody gets anything." I kissed her lips. "Be kind to yourself. Adore your husband, cherish your kids, honor your professional commitments, and do everything that's expected of you. But when you want something for yourself, and just for you, don't be too afraid or too ashamed to reach out and take it."

She returned my kiss. "You're awfully wise for a twenty-something," she said, making another stab at my age.

"I'm the least wise person in the world," was my reply. I leaned back, pulling her with me when I did, so that she now lay atop me.

"Nonsense."

"No," I said. And it was true. I had failed every single test of wisdom and growth that the universe had ever hurled at me. I had bumbled my way through the ages, lying, cheating, stealing, and killing, taking what I wanted when I wanted it. And I had ruined and spoiled everything to which I'd ever laid my hand. I had not a friend in the world who I hadn't wronged or chased away. But I resolved not to ruin anything for Freya. I whispered, "You can have a slice of me if you want."

"Oof ... I want more than a slice." She picked up her phone and regarded the screen for a moment. "This is going to take some selling."

"What?" I asked. "Just tell the truth."

"That I'm staying in Florida because I met a hot vampire with nice tits?"

"No, that you're exhausted. And that you met a nice woman who invited you down to relax in Key West for a few days."

"I don't ...."

"Sweetheart, trust me. Men are only suspicious of other men."

She keyed a message into her phone, fiddled with it several times, and, after a long minute's meditation, entered send. She lay the device on the table.

"Now he's so going to bitch because he'll have to look after the kids for three extra days."

"I thought you said your kids are in high school?"

"They are."

"Freya, darling, you need this so, so badly."