It was at the party in the high rise apartment complex that night where the mysterious "Countess" Mihaela Vladislav appeared. She entered with the doors swung wide open in advance of her presence, the wind seeming to whip into existence purely to herald her passage. She mingled with the wealthy and the powerful of the city, their young, attractive sons and daughters, and made herself seem like a fixture of the locale. The windows, drawn tight and covered by curtains, showing only the faintest hint of the moonlight seeping in - the full moon beyond bathing the city in an uncanny, cloying glow.
It most likely helped that Mihaela was a gorgeous woman. She stood about five foot eight inches tall, wrapped in thick, luxurious fabrics that hugged to her trim, shapely and voluptuous form. Her breasts only just covered by arms of blackest fiber, clinging to her back as they wrapped their way around her milky form. Her black hair trailed to her shoulders, wavy and thick. Her amber eyes were that shade of brown that almost seemed alight, like fire. Her fingernails were painted black, and extended just long enough to give the slightest mental indication toward claws. She was an almost timeless beauty - her features mature and vivacious, but not entirely given to the ravages of time that can begin to claw at an older woman.
Those who saw her immediately took notice of her, and couldn't help but find themselves thinking as they looked upon her that she was definitively among the most beautiful women they had seen that night. She had come alone. No hint of a man she might or might not have felt any obligation to stay with. In this party, with so many, many men loitering around, the woman they saw immediately grabbed their attention as if they were teenage boys again - gawking at one of their teachers.
And in some aspects, she might very well have that age disparity.
Those who spoke to her referred in the course of conversation to how she very readily owned her own appeal and moved with purpose. She wove together coy, deliberate flirtation with honest, open discussion about the day's events and the business world's movements. She was not a slow woman, nor was she by any means empty minded by dint of her beauty. She carried herself expertly well, and maneuvered about the social occasion like a spider dancing about her web.
Spinning webs with unsuspecting flies flitting about near the fringes of the indomitable fabric.
Young Jonathan Harrison was standing with his friends Lucas Blythe and Rupert Harding II, the three of them talking both about their recent investments, social goings on, as well as their romantic prospects - or lack thereof. They had long been fixtures of these upper class goings on - having more or less been born into this sort of circuit. Each was themselves a born modern day aristocrat, a blueblood of the big city that walked in these high rises while the world below came increasingly apart.
Jonathan Harrison was a 22 year old heir of his father's oil empire, a boyish and smooth featured young man that had rosy cheeks and thick, curly brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a light tan. Jonathan was lean, young, and impeccable - he naturally didn't grow much body hair, a contrast to his friend Rupert. Jonathan was a naive, sheltered boy - a regular case of spoiled sweet. While he did enjoy going out with women and dating, he was nothing if not a caring lover, and a rather sappy romantic at heart. While not opposed to sex, he typically enjoyed a nice, romantic movie to set the mood.
Rupert Harding II on the other hand was a 24 year old brash investor, his father's son in the regard of being a venture some would say vulture capitalist. He would hand down a certain amount of money, and then make it back - or just seize corporate assets in case things went, shall we say, tits up. Rupert was larger and bulkier than Jonathan, having a slightly darker tan, wavy black hair and brown eyes. Rupert's muscled form was the envy of his friends and the lust of his girlfriends, and he doubled as Jonathan and Lucas' personal trainer. Rupert had a rather hirsute form, except for his face - the end result of laser hair removal done purely on his facial hair.
Lucas Blythe was old East Coast money, and a 21 year old, soft and round faced boy who always looked a bit younger than he actually was. Supposedly, his family came over among the first colonizers. And Lucas' dad oh so loved to brag about that. Lucas, meanwhile, was a quieter boy - not a wallflower, but he preferred to just enjoy these parties purely with his friend group rather than make a big scene and brag about ancestry.
Those three heirs were impeccably dressed, but even as the Countess approached them, you could see their unsightly reaction. Lucas almost blanched with an immediate crush, while Rupert bit his lip and tilted his head, and Jonathan just tried to smile and present himself well. As she approached the three upperclass boys, Countess Mihaela obviously indulged in the sights of them. Scoping out each one in turn, "My, they make the heirs around here about as well as they make the patriarchs."
"I can't say I've ever seen you around here before," Rupert led, looking at the others as if reserving his chance, "I think I'd remember someone as lovely as you around here. Can I ask---?"
"For my name? I am Mihaela Vladislav, I'm from the east...and I've come here to live deliciously, and abide no law but mine need," And that sex suffused eastern European accent left it remarkably clear what she meant. She cradled a blood red drink in her hand, and swirled it around as she leaned against the table she now shared with the heirs. "Have I come to the right place?"
Introductions were exchanged, and the seeds of interest were at once planted. Jonathan found himself scarcely able to concentrate on anything else except for what was going on between him, his friends, and this stunning woman. Even if he tried to think of his father, presently off talking to some other executives and TV personalities, he just...couldn't for very long. His attention was upon her.
"Well," Jonathan said, smiling broadly, "You're at a dinner hosted by my father, among others, commemorating another year of success and growth for the big apple. This...can pretty regularly be a really hot party." He then awkwardly laughed.
"Mm, yes, I see that so many people here live off of their own desires." Mihaela looked around at the numerous figures of greed and consumption she had mingled with. But only these boys would satisfy her...desires. "Not that I'm unfamiliar with that. I do come from the old nobility, after all. My family traces itself back to Voivodes and Counts."
"Count me interested," Rupert said, leaning forward, "I dig the East Euro accent." Jonathan blushed a little, worrying that his best friend would be coming off a little too strong there. After all, she barely knew them, and here he was basically propositioning her. Sure she seemed a little wanton, but as far as Jonathan was concerned, she still deserved to be asked out to dinner first!
Lucas just sighed as he realized yet again that Rupert was faster on the draw than him. Perks of being the shy boy.
If Jonathan had been worried all that much about how Mihaela might have taken it, he need not be. She immediately laughed, and then looked Rupert over, blatantly checking him out. Though perhaps he should have noted how hungrily she did so. "My, you do like to cut right to the chase when you know what you want, mm? I respect that in a man. Not beating around the bushes."
Jonathan then gasped as he watched her pull up close to Rupert, the grinning muscle man eagerly accepting her under his arm.
"So, you wanna make this an early night out?" Rupert asked, excitedly looking at her nestled up against his pectoral and shoulder. The bulge in his pants was utterly obvious, and made his intentions quite clear. And it seemed that yet again, Mihaela matched his energy immediately and utterly.
The noblewoman clutched the back of Rupert's head lightly as she moved in front of him, and planted a hungry kiss upon his lips. Drawing him into a very public, very heated make out session in front of his two friends. And despite how this might've come off, both Lucas and Jonathan found themselves drawn in. Lucas moaned and grunted, his own cock painfully erect at the show, and even Jonathan - as prim and proper as he was - was nursing a stiffy at the sight of his best friend and personal trainer just having such an intense make out with her. It made both boys fantasize about their own turn. About getting to do more with her.
About burying something long, thick and hard within her. And they found themselves unable to avoid thinking about that. It was as if there was some sort of immediate sexual effect to her. That when she wanted to, she could pull men in like that. Exert a sort of dominating sexual aura that grabbed the attention and the libido of the men around her. Regardless if she was interacting with them in such a context or not.
But then, as soon as it started, it ended.
She pulled off of Rupert, and left him standing there. An immense bulge at the front of his dress pants, and his button up shirt stained a bit from sweat. "I'm afraid I must finish enjoying the sights and smells and delicious tastes of this party before I return with you to your humble home, and enjoy your surely quite potent seed, young Rupert." She then reached down, groped his cock in his pants, and pulled off of him, waving, and vanishing into the crowd.
Rupert stood there, drooling a little from the kiss, but then he realized she wasn't just going to go home with him yet. And that frustrated him - not in the least because he now was suffering from a case of blue balls. He looked at Lucas and Jonathan, and grumbled, "I'm fucking her. I'm fucking her tonight, and if you two wanna join in, that's fine. But---"
Lucas awkwardly shifted in place, trying to make his own "problem" less obvious.
While Jonathan grunted, "In...my humble opinion...I believe she is all yours..." He just knew he would either need a date tonight, or he would need to spend a long time in the shower with a bit of lotion and his right hand.
But as the young men watched the flitting form of the woman, this strange visiting descendant of nobility, mixing and vanishing off and on between the crowds of people in the party, they began to contemplate to a degree. Rupert simply thought about what he wanted, Lucas on how little he really got these days, and Jonathan on who exactly this lady was.
Of course, if you had asked anyone outside of that room, you might have gotten a very different answer.
-------
Far outside that far flung, almost floating high rise party, down on the streets of New York City, the scene of a brutal crime played out. Detectives pulled up in cars with rain stained windows and sirens. The area was quickly cordoned off by police efforts, and the slow dripping of water matched the pace of the quick little drip drop drip drop of blood upon the air. A prematurely aged figure, naked from head to feet, rested on the sidewalk. Strewn out as if thrown from some sort of vehicle. His features those of a 95 year old man, spindly and ancient - and not a single hint of ID.
His hips were viciously dislocated, however, and there were abundant signs someone had given the old man quite a ride leading up to some injuries sustained by his brittle form. Not to mention his state due to being thrown up on the dismal wet concrete. His eyes were open, wide, and dilated. Fear was written across his form, and there were two small puncture marks located roughly near his neck. A more suspicious detective might look at those puncture marks and see the mark of a very specific sort of hunter of mortal men.
Yet as the crime scene was closed off, and the body was examined and ultimately carted off, they could not have known how accurate that was. And yet, how distinct this specific kindred of the night was. For the vampire did not feed upon blood purely...but it fed upon the youth of her target. And that poor man, a lascivious lover from a local bar, had merely satisfied her needs. Now, the vampire looked for...desserts.