Night Ride: A short story

This story is from a prompt, but for the life of my I cant remember if it was a first sentence starter or a three word. Well, enjoy!

The Ferrari stopped and the tinted window opened to reveal a well-manicured and coifed young woman. She looked over at the biker next to her at the red light, revving her engine a little.

The weathered looking man on the bike seemed to take the bait, revving his own engine with a wolfish grin on his lips.

When the light turned green, off they went. Tired screeched, smoked billowed and the two propelled to great speeds down the straight stretch of street until the next light. The Ferrari won of course.

The young woman stopped and got out of her sports car, leaning against it as the biker came to a stop, dismounting his machine. That same wolfish grin was on his face. He knew his bike couldn’t take a car like that. What did a dame like this want with someone like him though?

The young blonde pushed away from her car, walking next to the grizzled biker, a finger running over the bikes leather seat. She batted her lashes at him. “Wanna have a good time? I really like the whole biker and smell of leather thing…turns me on…” She purred to him.

He wasn’t actually kind of shocked. He wasn’t that great looking and he knew it. But, females were funny creatures. Everyone had their fetishes as well. “Sure baby, lead the way…” He said, nodding toward her car. “I’ll try to keep up.” He chuckled.

She shook her head, running a hand over the leather vest he wore over an old denim shirt. “Naw…here. Now.” She said, pulling on his vest. She pulled him toward a darkened alley. “Make me feel dirty…” She said softly, seductively.

He hesitated for a moment, but the bulge in his pants was getting bigger the more she cooed at him.

In the safety of the shadowed alley, he took control, pressing her against the concrete wall, his hands on her hips, and his mouth on hers. Damn, she tasted good.

The young woman responded with fervor. It was all part of the deal. Bring him up, bring him up.

When his hand slid over her breast, she knew it was time.

She fisted her hands in his vest, her mouth clamping over his a bit more firm. The façade of a helpless little uptown blonde melted away, her skin turning grey, her eyes red. Her tongue, which was in his mouth at the moment, forked.

She allowed the ritual to start. She began drawing his life essence from him. That energy, spirit, whatever people want to call it.

Of course he could feel it, it was painful. He dropped to his knee and pushed her away, taking in her changed appearance. She smiled. As he opened his mouth to scream, she was upon him, mouth clamped over his to draw out that precious essence.

The man literally withered in her hold. His flesh aged, his hair greyed. Eyes rolled up into their sockets. He looked near mummified when she finally released him.

She looked down at the corpse feeling rejuvenated for now. She would be okay for another couple of days.

Taking her human guise once again, she strolled out of the alley, looking for anyone who may pose as threat or witness. When satisfied, she stepped back to her car and settled in, heading back home to the upper side of the city.
She’d be back to this side of town again. A new car. A new look. A new meal.

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