Despite the jealous gossip, you are not fired or even reprimanded. You celebrate in the huge booth in the very back of your bar on Montgomery and Carlisle. You drink Corona longnecks and gaze into each other’s eyes, grinning like idiots. Grinning like you’ve gotten away with something. Kissing. Talking sexy. His cock is throbbing. Your pussy is dripping. You could fuck each other right here. Teasing and prolonging is much more fun. You love his sharp little vampire teeth. There will be a full moon soon. You’ll be on your period. You’re at your horniest and most insatiable on your period. You asked him the other day if he goes down on women while they’re menstruating. He said yes. He enjoys it. You can’t wait to see your menstrual blood smeared all over his mouth and chin. You love him and want him so much you’d even kiss your own menstrual blood off his face. You’re crazy in love with this kooky Leo vampire. You want to make horror films with this man. You want to be his horror whore. His bride in black. You want to ride him into the sunset, howl at the moon as you swing from his balls. You crawl to him as a dying woman crawls toward an oasis in the desert. You drink deep and beg for more. Your yoni has never been more spastic. Your yoni has been up for five days on speed. Your yoni is braving a Manhattan audience on open mic night at the new comedy club across from the sushi bar. Your yoni is bouncing off the walls from too much orange soda and Everlasting Gobstoppers. You are completely fucked. You are coming home to much fanfare.

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