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which he kept winking at her and guffawing between sentences.

 

She soon discovered that he was every bit the lounge lizard and seducer of maidens she had taken him for. One thing Deborah had been quite wrong about though: back in George's Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost she discovered that there was certainly more in the lounge lizard's pockets than betting slips or receipts from pawnbrokers. While George's Honourable lips were exploring her lower neckline, Deborah's nimble fingers fished around in his jacket, clamping her digits around his gold cigarette case in an instant. George's hot breath on her cheek made her shudder with pleasure and she nestled more closely into his embrace, the whiteness of her neck now fully exposed to the steamy attack on her virtue. While George's hands explored whether or not the boyish cut of flapper dresses demanded girls to bind their boobs tightly, Deborah's mind worked feverishly.

 

She was three weeks behind with her rent and owed money to the butchers for at least two week's worth of black pudding and cheap cuts like offal. Her coal merchant would come knocking soon. There goes another few bob, she thought with irritation. The gold cigarette case would fetch a pretty bundle, but the emerald and diamond rings on George's hands would do even more, they'd set her up for a pretty long time...and not in some dump here in London. No, a pleasant sojourn at the French Rivera would do nicely round about now. Plenty of rich men to fleece. Warm nights where a girl could enjoy meals al fresco. No more of this London fog and rain for her!

 

She giggled, as George's lips nibbled her earlobe, then moved on to explore the exposed bit of skin between her shoulder and long white silk glove. It tickled. Oh, that wicked pencil moustache! George grunted with the effort of twisting her around to open the tiny buttons on the back of her dress. His head was somewhere near her elbow now, his shiny black hair gave off a mirror-like glare as the car passed under a bright streetlight and stopped within a few steps of the Torcadero. The driver stepped out of the car and held the car door open, waiting for Deborah to get out.

 

"Not now, fool! Drive us around the block, man, and keep that damn partition up, there's a good chap," snapped George, pulling the door shut again. The driver got back into the front seat and did as he was told.

 

She reached out with one hand and knocked gently against the pane of glass. "Soundproof, is it?"

 

By way of a reply, George groaned, sliding down on his part of the leather bench to explore what pale skinned treasures were hidden beneath two pairs of pink silk stockings. His hands slid down her breasts to her waist to land on her thighs, from where they wandered to her knees, then down to her feet, loosening the straps that held her pumps in place. "Care for some Champagne?" George asked huskily. She nodded.

 

He flicked a switch and a small drinks cabinet, built into the Silver Ghost's rear passenger compartment, appeared. George removed the cork from a bottle of bubbly, picked up Deborah's left shoe and poured Champagne into it. He drank deeply, then handed her the remainder. In the centre of the shoe lay a narrow diamond bracelet. She laughed. "You know how to dazzle a girl, don't you?"

 

"I know more than that, my dear. I know how to devour a girl in a way that will make her scream in agony and delight simultaneously," he gasped, ripping Deborah's embroidered frock from her shoulders and sinking his teeth into her white flesh.

 

"Those had better not be rhinestones!" Deborah gasped, dropping the bracelet and shoe to surrender to passion.

 

The next five minutes were a bit of a blur, for Deborah tried to get George's body into a position where she didn't end up with a crick in her neck or cramps in one of her legs, but without much success. George's idea of a blind date was to explore his date with every one of his fifty-six pairs of hands, while keeping his eyes firmly shut. A wrestling match at Madison Square Garden was nothing in comparison with those five minutes in the back of the Silver Ghost!

 

Finally, when George's bow-tie draped from the speaking tube, his shirt buttons littered the thick carpeted floor and his trouser's braces were about to come off, she bent her head over his neck and sunk her teeth into his hot and sweaty flesh.

 

He groaned with pleasure."You are a girl after my own heart! Harder, bite me harder!" He gripped her shoulders with both hands and shook her hard; her bobbed hair fell over her face and she sighed with contentment.

 

By way of an answer, Deborah ripped his starched collar off with her teeth and nuzzled his earlobe, then bit forcefully into it, this time drawing blood. "Hard enough for you, Georgie-porgie?" Deborah breathed into his ear.

 

"Not quite that hard, my dear, do leave me an ear or two, there's a good filly," George managed to spit out between clenched teeth. His hand shot up to his earlobe and rubbed it. His eyes were swimming, the sharp pain had brought tears to them.

 

Deborah didn't seem to have heard him or perhaps she just didn't care. She gripped him with vice-like strength, pulling him across her lap and twisting his torso into a very uncomfortable position. So uncomfortable, George was forced to open his eyes wider to see what was going on. His pale face told Deborah that he didn't like the unexpected turn this blind date was taking.

 

Rolling down one of her pink stockings, Deborah crumpled it into a ball and stuffed it unceremoniously into George's mouth. "No screaming now, I can't stand it, it's just so unmanly." She rolled down the other stocking and tied George's wrists firmly, looping the rest of the stocking behind and over the speaking tube apparatus. Unable to twist his body back into an upright and sitting position, George lay across her lap like a dog about to be checked for fleas.

 

George tried to hammer his heels against the glass partition to alert the driver, but failed because Deborah clamped one of her strong legs over both of his, a preying mantis ready to devour her prey. With a smile, she fished the glittering bracelet out of her soggy shoe, reached for the bottle of bubbly and drank deeply from it, cradling George like a child in her lap. She put the bottle back into the drinks cabinet with a belch, leaned over George and whispered: "Can you hear that down there? That's my stomach rumbling. Got to eat, a girl's got to eat. Even a blind date deserves a decent dinner, didn't anybody ever tell you that?"

 

To her own surprise, she began humming a tune, now what was it? Oh yes, I'm sorry I made your cry. "That's one of your favourites, isn't it, Georgie-porgie?" Deborah said, twisting George's neck into the perfect dinner position for her fangs.

 

Passing under the flashing neon signs of the Trocadero for the fourth time, the driver wondered briefly what he was expected to do when the Rolls-Royce ran out of petrol but he soon dismissed the thought. "His nibs will be too busy devouring that tasty little redhead to notice," he laughed. "Must be the...huh...fourth redhead he's having in as many days? Insatiable that man, insatiable!"

 

Imprint

Text: Maria Thermann
Images: Maria Thermann
Cover: Maria Thermann
Editing: Maria Thermann
Layout: Maria Thermann
Publication Date: 10-08-2015

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Dedicated to all vampire fans who've been on blind dates and have first-fang experience of that uncomfortable "will he-he won't he bite me" feeling...

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