Andrew Fox - Fat White Vampire Blues

“Sure-sure thing!” Jules groaned, rubbing his side where he’d slammed into the bed frame.I’ll have me a bruise worse than Mikhail Gorbachev’s birthmark, he told himself.Good luck explaining thatto Maureen.

“I bet I know how to get you in the mood,” she said, her eyes sparkling. She stood up from the bed and danced to the middle of the room, her hips gyrating to a mambo only she could hear. She slipped off her shoes, then sensuously slithered out of her jacket. The white flesh of her arms was toned and flawless, but that wasn’t what stunned Jules. Her black silk T-shirt clung to her Amazonian form like a good coat of paint. Embroidered just above her left breast was the stylized slogan: I (HEART) VAMPIRES. The picture of the heart was pierced by a pair of cartoonish fangs and dripped droplets of Day-Glo blood.

Veronika noticed Jules’s wide-eyed expression. “Isn’t this shirt justdarling? I picked it up a few days ago at Agatha Longrain’s boutique in the Garden District. She had so much wonderful stuff there. I’ve been one of her biggest fans almost as far back as I can remember.”

“Er, yeah, it’s beautiful, baby. You got good taste.”

“Thanks.” She grinned slyly. “Ithink I’ve got good taste, too. Especially inmen.” She continued her striptease. The shirt came off next. Her bra was massive but exquisitely stylish. Expensive lace hid an underwire apparatus on a par with da Vinci’s marvels of engineering.

She leaned against an antique bureau and gracefully removed her pants. Jules expected to see a girdle of Victorian severity heave into view. Surely her hourglass figure required one-no hips on earth could be so gargantuan and yet so classically and smoothly curved all on their own. But all she wore beneath her pants was a pair of lace panties, which were nearly hidden by the tummy rolls that cascaded down her upper thighs like ripples in a lake of pure cream.

The sight hit Jules like a thunderclap-those photos inBig Cheeks Pictorial hadn’t been airbrushed one bit-!

She grinned salaciously at him, turned on the spigot, then pressed a button on the wall next to the Jacuzzi. The big tub’s waters poured forth and bubbled into life. Veronika eased herself slowly and carefully into the hot froth, a Venus returning to her birthplace in the surf. “Oh God, this feelsheavenly!” She settled herself onto a submerged seat molded into the tub’s steps and leaned back, spreading her legs wide. Her painted toenails peeked above the bubbles. “Okay, handsome. I’m not the only one who gets wet here. Your turn.”

“Uh, maybe you’ll give me just a minute to, eh, get naked in private?”

Her full lips formed an exaggerated pout. “Oh, now what fun isthat? Don’t I get a striptease, too?”

Jules turned red all over. He couldn’t remember the last woman (aside from Maureen) he’d stripped in front of. The notion of taking off his clothes in a well-lit room in front of a strange woman made him feel eight years old again, the little boy who didn’t want to take a naked shower in the St. Ignatius locker room.

“Eh, this, well, this is gonna sound realstupid… but I’d be a helluva lot more comfortable takin‘ off these clothes in the bathroom. And you think, maybe, we could turn these lights down some?”

Her toes sank out of sight as she sat up straighter in the Jacuzzi. “Will that make you feel more in the mood?”

“Yeah. Actually, it would.”

“Okay.” She pointed to her dresser. “Look in that top left-hand drawer there. You’ll find some scented candles and a box of matches. Light some of those and you can turn off the overhead light.”

He did as she instructed. Then he hung his trench coat on the coatrack by the door before slinking into the bathroom.

Good thing this was a luxury condominium-given the size of the typical hotel/motel bathroom, Jules expected to barely have room enough to turn around, but there was ample space here. He examined the harlequin suit after he managed to wiggle out of it. He’d definitely have to get it dry-cleaned; the sides beneath the sleeves were already yellowish with drying perspiration.

He leaned against the sink as he stepped out of his underwear. So he was actually going to do this. He was actually going to get laid. Jules stared down at his stomach. He couldn’t see his privates, but his belly’s white folds were sturdily propped up in the middle.

Maybe his pecker was happy, but for some reason his eyes were beginning to water like hell. What the devil could be causingthat? He checked behind the shower curtain. He saw nothing but a bar of soap, a bottle of conditioning shampoo, and a Lady Bic razor. He examined the sink a little closer. The stinging in his eyes got worse. He knelt down and opened up the cabinet beneath the sink.Whew! What a stink! When his vision cleared, he saw a canvas duffel bag sitting beneath the drainpipe. He pulled it toward the edge of the cabinet and opened it. The contents nearly knocked him against the opposite wall.

What the fuck? Garlic cloves! Enough to cook a feast for the entire Mafia! And crucifixes?What was she doing with all this crap (and in the bathroom, yet)?

“Jules? What’s taking you so long in there, handsome? I’m getting lonely.”

He shut the cabinet and quickly dabbed his eyes with some toilet paper. When he left the bathroom, his fleshy tent was already beginning to sag. Should he ask her about the weird crap under the sink? Or should he just climb in the tub and pork her while it was still an option?

“Thereyou are,” she said brightly. “I was afraid I’d turn into a prune before you got here. Come on in! The water’sdelicious!”

His big head (the one atop his neck) told him to leave. His little head (the one below his stomach) told him to get the hell in the hot tub already. Little head overruled big head. Jules grabbed hold of the side of the tub and climbed in. It was a big Jacuzzi, true, maybe big enough for four or five normal-sized folks, but with Veronika already ensconced, he felt like the proverbial sardine squeezing into a sardine can.

The upside of this situation was that his naked flesh was jammed tightly against her naked flesh. “Mmmm, c’mere, lover,” she whispered. “This time, you aren’t goinganywhere.”

She kissed him more expertly this time. He felt lost in her glorious body. Lost, and he never wanted to be found again. And then she stopped kissing him.

“Huh?” He opened his eyes. “Whassa matter? You were doin‘great, baby-”

“Hold your horses, handsome.” She removed the cork from a small bottle of clear liquid. “This bath oil is my absolutefavorite. It’ll make us smell all flowery fresh for when we climb into bed.”

She poured the contents of the bottle into the tub. The water’s bubbling immediately tripled in intensity. Jules felt the stings of a thousand fire ants over every submerged inch of his body.

“Aahhh!Holyfuck! What’d you do?”

Agonized, Jules struggled to pull himself out of the cramped Jacuzzi. The water boiled fiercely, but Veronika was unaffected-far from being in pain, she tightened her legs’ vise-grip around Jules’s torso, forcing him back into the violent froth.

“Lover, what’s the matter?” Her strong hands pressed down on his shoulders. “Stay in the tub with me, darling-”

“Leggo, you crazy broad! Letgo!” He plunged his hands into the burning bubbles and dug his jagged fingernails into her imprisoning thighs. She yelped. Her grip on him loosened, just enough for him to propel his bulk onto the top step and scramble over the Jacuzzi’s edge. Veronika screamed in dismay and made a last-ditch grab for his privates, but her fingers slid off the slippery, reddened folds of his belly as he flung himself over the side.

His foot whacked her head as he tumbled onto the floor below, hurling her back into the water. He landed on his left shoulder. A sudden sharp pain told him he might’ve dislocated it, but that hurt was nothing compared to the burning he felt from the neck down. He crawled across the floor to the bed, grabbed the bedpost, and pulled himself to his feet.