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Authors: Kristen Marquette
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Eight
The Bloodman
She had scrubbed the floors, vacuumed the carpets, dusted every nook and cranny, and polished the good silverware to a high shine. The dining room table was set and awaiting the guests. The wet bar was furnished with chilled martini glasses. She had washed and redressed the human making him presentable. The hearts were impatiently waiting to be devoured. The sweet, dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra filled the background. Valerie herself was well manicured in her peach gown that accented her thin frame and delicate shoulder blades. Her makeup was impeccable. Harry was soaking in the tub at this exact moment, washing off the grime all eleven year old boys accumulate in a day and fiercely protesting the argyle sweater she had laid out for him. She had spent over an hour curling Amelia’s hair into perfect ringlets and applying her makeup. All that was left was picking out the perfect first date outfit and waiting for the bloodman to deliver her special order of a case of fresh blood for the night’s entertainment.
“At least try it on, Aims,” Valerie begged. “The pink will look pretty on you.”
“It’s too tight. It belongs to you. I’m bigger than you.”
“Only in the chest, darling, and that’s a blessing. Please, just try it on, for me, and then if you don’t like it, we’ll find something else, okay?”
“Fine.”
There was a knock on the front door. Finally. “Change, and I’ll be right back. That’s the bloodman.”
She hurried from her daughter’s bedroom and answered the door.
“Your delivery, ma’am.”
She was all ready to give him a good talking to for his tardiness. She knew he was new, but he had been on this blood route for a month. He should know his job by now. But lying eyes on him, a warm smile spread across her face. She almost felt like a teenager again, butterflies in the stomach, nervous and excited at the same time. The bloodman may not be punctual, but he was gorgeous. Young, early twenties, strong and tall—strapping. His black hair was slicked back from his handsome face with its dimples and clean shaved chin. He had small, sparkling dark eyes, and a smile with white teeth. In his crisp white bloodman uniform with Eddie embroidered in red on the chest, he was a fantasy come true.
It was a horrible cliché, she knew that, the housewife and the bloodman. And the daydreams that she had about him . . . Why, she should confess them to Reverend Louis to cleanse her sinful soul! Surely they would condemn her to Hell. She never had such thoughts about Charlie, not even in the beginning. Of course, in the beginning her imagination had no experience, not even a real understanding of what the actual act of sex entailed. Charlie was an attractive man, but she had never been attracted to him, not even at eighteen when he was her savoir. Especially not then, actually. Progressively that part of their relationship developed. Or maybe her attraction had been more to sex than sex with Charlie per se. It was unfair to compare. She knew that. She shouldn’t even allow these thoughts in her head. She was a married woman with children.
“It’s a disaster! I’m a disaster. I’m going to cancel.” Amelia stomped down the hall in the halter top dress, tears bubbling in her eyes threatening to ruin her makeup. It was so out of character for her to be so upset over her appearance. Other than the tantrum she threw to get the conical bra like the rest of her female classmates wore, she showed little interest in her physical appearance. She was so sure of herself academically. Valerie wished she could have the same confidence in her appearance.
Despite her declarations, Amelia was far from a disaster. She was nothing short of stunning. Yes, the dress hugged her ample breasts and flowering hips, but the dress didn’t look too small, instead her hourglass figure
The Bloodman
She had scrubbed the floors, vacuumed the carpets, dusted every nook and cranny, and polished the good silverware to a high shine. The dining room table was set and awaiting the guests. The wet bar was furnished with chilled martini glasses. She had washed and redressed the human making him presentable. The hearts were impatiently waiting to be devoured. The sweet, dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra filled the background. Valerie herself was well manicured in her peach gown that accented her thin frame and delicate shoulder blades. Her makeup was impeccable. Harry was soaking in the tub at this exact moment, washing off the grime all eleven year old boys accumulate in a day and fiercely protesting the argyle sweater she had laid out for him. She had spent over an hour curling Amelia’s hair into perfect ringlets and applying her makeup. All that was left was picking out the perfect first date outfit and waiting for the bloodman to deliver her special order of a case of fresh blood for the night’s entertainment.
“At least try it on, Aims,” Valerie begged. “The pink will look pretty on you.”
“It’s too tight. It belongs to you. I’m bigger than you.”
“Only in the chest, darling, and that’s a blessing. Please, just try it on, for me, and then if you don’t like it, we’ll find something else, okay?”
“Fine.”
There was a knock on the front door. Finally. “Change, and I’ll be right back. That’s the bloodman.”
She hurried from her daughter’s bedroom and answered the door.
“Your delivery, ma’am.”
She was all ready to give him a good talking to for his tardiness. She knew he was new, but he had been on this blood route for a month. He should know his job by now. But lying eyes on him, a warm smile spread across her face. She almost felt like a teenager again, butterflies in the stomach, nervous and excited at the same time. The bloodman may not be punctual, but he was gorgeous. Young, early twenties, strong and tall—strapping. His black hair was slicked back from his handsome face with its dimples and clean shaved chin. He had small, sparkling dark eyes, and a smile with white teeth. In his crisp white bloodman uniform with Eddie embroidered in red on the chest, he was a fantasy come true.
It was a horrible cliché, she knew that, the housewife and the bloodman. And the daydreams that she had about him . . . Why, she should confess them to Reverend Louis to cleanse her sinful soul! Surely they would condemn her to Hell. She never had such thoughts about Charlie, not even in the beginning. Of course, in the beginning her imagination had no experience, not even a real understanding of what the actual act of sex entailed. Charlie was an attractive man, but she had never been attracted to him, not even at eighteen when he was her savoir. Especially not then, actually. Progressively that part of their relationship developed. Or maybe her attraction had been more to sex than sex with Charlie per se. It was unfair to compare. She knew that. She shouldn’t even allow these thoughts in her head. She was a married woman with children.
“It’s a disaster! I’m a disaster. I’m going to cancel.” Amelia stomped down the hall in the halter top dress, tears bubbling in her eyes threatening to ruin her makeup. It was so out of character for her to be so upset over her appearance. Other than the tantrum she threw to get the conical bra like the rest of her female classmates wore, she showed little interest in her physical appearance. She was so sure of herself academically. Valerie wished she could have the same confidence in her appearance.
Despite her declarations, Amelia was far from a disaster. She was nothing short of stunning. Yes, the dress hugged her ample breasts and flowering hips, but the dress didn’t look too small, instead her hourglass figure
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