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Writer's pictureHarley Bee

Vampire Banquet

A thematic erotic exploration of my cheating fetish


Like a vampire thirsting for blood, I cannot help the urges that take me over when I least expect it. A wave of debauchery crashes over me and I lose all sane and logical thought, I am in hunting mode.


I crave committed men in a way I could never eloquently form a sentence that would do my insatiable hunger justice.

No matter how much I consume from the feast of men that belong to nobody, I will always give in to the relish of having somebody that isn’t mine; coaxing the spice out of them and leading them into a shadowy lair painted with the blood of self destruction.


I have no selection process, I can smell a wedding ring and an unhappy husband from a thousand miles away. There are more and more men being shoved into my arms every day; and once they find me, and I lock my eyes on my prey, I lure them into a blissful abyss, sucking the joy and love from their marriage. I awaken the soul of the matrimonially damned, another woman staying hungry while my appetite is never satisfied. Call it collateral damage.


The more love I take the more joy I want, I can’t help it; you are as irresistible to me as I am to you, we’re a match made in Transylvania. There is a magnetic pull between you and me that simply can’t be ignored.


While she is unaware that resources are being depleted, you’re close to giving me every single part of yourself right under her nose. I see the darkest parts of you and I would take those alone on a silver platter, and that’s why you find me so inescapable. I want you to be bad more than you want to be bad and that excites you.


I feed on your darkness and you thrive on obliging me, the longer you’re under my shadow blessing the more your dark side begins to take precedence. You give more and more of yourself to me as she has less and less to keep her healthy, and the more she is malnourished the emptier your relationship gets.


I take not because I feel I’m entitled, only because I know that I can. I seduced you because you were an easy target, because I knew I could have you; my appearance was merely the cherry on top of a semantic sundae sensation. I played on my own unattainable nature, dangled myself right in front of your face and made it your decision to have me.


You men will always want what you can’t have, and I will tease you with every single inch of me that you can’t have until you eventually give in. And then I will devour your relationship, I want to lose myself in a food coma of my own creation. Lie in selfish ecstasy as you start to panic next to me, laze in a hazy euphoria as you stumble around the room gathering your belongings.


I revel in her suspicion, and I bathe in your paranoia; I crave her jealousy, and I covet your spite. I sleep in a coffin lined with the fibres of the marriages I have claimed, and I do it soundly.

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