Vampire lust

I want to go to Rio. Have some vampire sex.
My friend laughs. "I can see the eroticism start up in your eyes," she says. We are talking about my wanting to see Breaking Dawn, in which Edward n Bella consummate their wedding near Rio. Apparently, there's currently a surge in honeymooners booking packages to Rio. Bloodsucking honeymooner magnet.
Uhoh. Can friends actually see when my pupils dilate at the thought of entwined limbs n lips? That would be like a 1000 times a day this year. On aircraft, buses and trains; in embassies, clinics and parties...anything could trigger my pupils. (Which is why I'm getting responsive uber-creative home action on curvy, hollowed-out benches and stuff...Well, anything for better lurrvin'; no harm done!)
Six months ago, I took a two hour ride alone with a 24 yr old who had my ex's wiry curls and bone structure.
The driver was my uncle's friend's son. The father was my church sexton. (I' m sure you could call the father an altarboy or something, but in the context of this blog's mood, the word on top of my mind is sexton, so sexton he shall be).
So I was safe on that night ride thru lonely roads, yet insisted on enjoying the uncertainty of doubt. I sat next to the driver's seat, and kept him engaged, marvelling at how 17 years ago, I had met and loved a boy like this one, poor, ambitious and driven..but with connections which had brought him to a place where he now had time to study and go on speaking tours.
I had successfully recovered from a year in which my ex had helped me stay on in my marriage. We spoke for one month of that year, but I fought and prayed for the will to stay in my marriage all year, secure in knowing I had the support of someone who loved me enough to pray for me, and to let me go. My rational mind couldn't accept that his prayers were working, but by some metaphysical force, they had certainly taken effect.
In that heightened state of awareness of ex-memories, and alone for the first time in my life at airport check in, I hand over my passport and wait for the officer to return it, idly looking around me. I catch a glimpse of long slim legs in blue jeans, perhaps a white shirt, I think, but swiftly avert my eyes.
This was going to be a story about one day, today, but my preamble is so long, that I need a break. Till later,then.